Iligan City

Iligan was then the envy of neighboring towns. It was a social laboratory where Muslims and Christians lived in harmony.

Last week, I hied off to Marawi City to lend moral support to the youngest of my brood who was due for a Caesarian section. Alhamdulillah or “Praise be to God,” Paramanis Api gave birth to a bouncing baby boy.

But before Marawi, one has to pass by the seaside city of Iligan. Jammed in traffic, I felt nostalgic reminiscing my juvenile years in Iligan. It was most memorable and helped in more ways than one in molding my personality and character.

The place now is far different from Iligan of yore. It has developed into an urbanized metropolis with characteristic traffic congestion, pollution, giant malls and throng of people of diverse ethnicity and religion. I smiled in silence recalling the time when traffic was more of the galloping horse drawing wooden two-wheeled cart which was the main transport. We called it tartanillas, the “king of the road.” Road traffic was not a serious concern as it is today. I thought, however, that the city government must upgrade its traffic management capability before it becomes as serious as Metro Manila’s Edsa.

The Iligan of yesterday looked to a bright future with the sprouting of a number of industries which provided employment and boosted local economy. It was then known and promoted as the “Industrial City of the South” or the local Detroit. But perhaps because of loss of viability or other reasons not clear to residents, some of these industries folded or were embroiled in corporate and legal problems like the giant National Steel Corporation, a big blow to local labor and economy.

But Iligan has not lost its beauty and charm. Its natural assets and attractions are magnets for tourists. The picturesque, iconic Maria Cristina Falls, source of hydro power that supplies about 70 percent of energy to Mindanao, has maintained her majestic, thundering and awe-inspiring beauty although it may be seen only on scheduled days.

Back when I was Undersecretary of Tourism, we marketed Iligan with the tagline, “City of Waterfalls.” There are dozens of waterfalls, springs and rivers cascading from its mountain ranges, with clear running waters more pristine than the commercially sold bottled water.

In 2011, tragedy struck when severe tropical typhoon “Sendong” wrought havoc on the city where hundreds died and were rendered homeless. The illegal loggers and carpet-baggers raped and bareheaded the forestland, triggering an onslaught of mudflow, even as the culprits laughed their way to the bank.

Iligan was then the envy of neighboring towns. It was a social laboratory where Muslims and Christians lived in harmony. I studied and graduated from the Iligan City High School and in my entire four-year study, there was not a single time I can remember when I was treated differently from the Christian majority. Growing up, I neither saw nor felt bias, discrimination and bigotry from anybody.

For a while, I was enrolled at the St. Michael’s College where, although theology was not a required subject, I learned the rudiments of Christianity. This became the seed of my understanding, tolerance and fraternal bond which prepared me for life amidst Christians.

At the height of the “Ilaga-Baracuda” fratricidal conflict which displaced and caused sufferings to residents in the province, Iligan was spared. Muslims were safely secured unmolested and freed from harassment.

Members of our family considered themselves Iliganons because of decades of domicile there (a street is named after my father). Moreover, native prominent Iliganons like the Adevas, Ramiros, Abragans, Cabilis et al, traced their roots to the great Tunko Bezar royal family of Wato, my birthplace. They once organized a visit to Wato to pay homage to the tomb of the Tungko. The colonizer Spaniards brought the Cross that drove a wedge in our socio-religious relationship.

Peace and order were not much of a problem. Petty street crimes like snatching occupied mainly the police. Illegal drug problems, violent extremism and suicide bombing were unheard of.

Residents could spree on bars or in fiesta of neighboring barrios without fear of being molested.

The war in Marawi unduly put a strain on Iligan because of the flow of evacuees. Human and transport traffic escalated. City Mayor Celso Regencia had to show a Duterte-like stern leadership to instill discipline on abusive evacuees and prevent sanitation and garbage disposal problems from spinning out of control.

I long for the Halcyon days of my youth in Iligan. I feel a whiff of cheer and respite from the everyday grind of life reminiscing about them.