The people of Quirino remembered his service. I remembered the man who said yes when asked to help students. Their memories and mine met in a simple impression: Dax made room for people.
House Speaker Faustino "Bojie" Dy spoke during the necrological service of Quirino Governor Dax Cua at the House of Representatives on Monday, 21 September.
Office of House Speaker Faustino "Bojie" Dy
My father used to say that we should visit people while they are still present. But by all means, he would add, pay your respects.
His words returned to me when I went to pay mine to Governor Dakila “Dax” Cua.
I knew Dax personally, though not intimately. My friend Dingdong Dantes, a former commissioner of the National Youth Commission, brought us together through a foundation that sought to help deserving young Filipinos through college.
When invited to lend his support, Dax readily agreed. I remember how often he was the first to greet people, and how softly he spoke. Our encounters were brief, but they stayed with me.
When news of his passing spread, I read the many kind words offered about his years in office. Then I watched videos of his return to Quirino. People stood along the roads as the cortege carrying his remains passed. They had come to pay their respects to a governor they knew in ways I never could.
What I read and saw affirmed the estimate I had formed through my own encounters with him.
The people of Quirino remembered his service. I remembered the man who said yes when asked to help students. Their memories and mine met in a simple impression: Dax made room for people.
He served Quirino for 25 years as vice governor, representative and governor, while also taking on responsibilities beyond the province. Those offices showed the reach of his work. The recollections of people who lived alongside it tell us something about how he carried on that work.
We have become practiced at naming what public officials do wrong. We must keep doing so. Money lost to corruption is money taken from needs that cannot wait. The flood control controversy has shown why citizens must demand records, answers, and consequences long after a post had disappeared from their social media feeds.
Over the same weekend, I heard Edu Manzano say in an interview on a YouTube talk show that many men and women in government still serve quietly. Dax’s passing gave that thought personal weight. It also made me ask if we notice worthy service while those who give it are still among us.
That calls for care, too. We can examine an official’s decisions and results, listen to those affected, and tell that person when an act of service has mattered. Recognition does not suspend scrutiny. Offered honestly, it gives others a standard to meet and gives those doing difficult work a reason to persist.
My father’s advice goes beyond a wake. Visit while the person is present. Say what ought to be said while it can still be heard. I wish I had found another occasion to see Dax and tell him that his ready support for those young students had stayed with me.
To his wife and children, to his family, and most especially to the people of Quirino, I offer my deepest condolences. I mourn a man with whom I shared a cause, however briefly, and a leader whose example deserves our attention.
When Dax came home, people stood along the roads to pay their respects. I was grateful to pay mine. And I will carry my father’s reminder with me: When we see good being done, let us find a way to say so while there is still time.
