A former Person Deprived of Liberty in Romblon receives a rent-to-own tricycle through the BJMP’s After Care Program, facilitated by Senior Jail Officer 1 Napoleon Mesana Jr. The assistance aims to help the former inmate rebuild his life and secure a dignified fresh start. PHOTOGRAPH COURTESY OF JO3 Joefrie Anglo, IO-BJMP MIMAROPA
NATION

Tricycle helps ex-convict start again

Jasper Dawang

Starting over after incarceration is never easy. The world outside moves on, while former Persons Deprived of Liberty (PDLs) return to a society that often meets them with doubt, stigma, and few real opportunities. For many, freedom comes with a heavy question: Where do I begin?

In Romblon, one former PDL found his answer in an unexpected but life-changing form — a humble tricycle.

Through the BJMP’s After Care Program, he didn’t just walk out of jail with a bag of belongings. He walked into a new beginning. Thanks to a rent-to-own tricycle facilitated by Senior Jail Officer 1 Napoleon Mesana Jr., he had a ready livelihood waiting for him the moment he stepped outside the facility.

It may look like just another tricycle on the road, but for someone rebuilding from the ground up, it’s far more than that. It’s daily income. It’s a way to support his family. It’s a symbol of trust — proof that someone believes he deserves another chance.

BJMP MIMAROPA spokesperson JO3 Joefrie Anglo says this is exactly what reintegration should look like.

“Our work does not end at release,” Anglo explains. “Supporting former PDLs with opportunities like this helps them return to society with dignity and a fair chance to rebuild their lives.”

For many who have been cut off from the world for years, livelihood is the biggest hurdle. Without it, the path forward is steep — and the temptation to slip back into old patterns grows. Programs like this, whether through skills training or livelihood support, give people something essential: a way to stand again.

For this former PDL, three wheels were enough to set his life back in motion.

The tricycle may be modest, but the hope it carries is anything but. It represents momentum, dignity, and a reminder that second chances work — especially when communities choose to help rather than judge.