A Champion Lays to Rest (A Francis Magalona Tribute)

I commute to get to work. I usually take a bus until halfway the journey, and then take a cab for the remaining miles. It is faster and cheaper that way.  

It is also good that the busses taking the Las Piñas-Lawton route are now much, much better than it used to be. I’m talking about new bus models, nicely furnished interiors, cool air conditioning, and mind you, LCD flat screens for television! It is on these TV’s only that I get to watch, well, TV! I leave at around 12:30 pm to 1:00 pm so I get to catch noontime shows on these busses, particularly Eat Bulaga, which keeps me updated with their gags and their whole dabarkads thing.

Sometime last year (I know now it was October), as I climbed up the bus stairs and looked for a seat, I saw a band performing on the show. It was Ely Buendia with his band, Pupil. I knew I was in for a treat. They were playing their new single, and they were rocking the house! Being an Ely fan, I chose the best seat in the bus to catch the show.

I was happy to catch it live and I sat back as they finished the song –so I thought. The band started to play a very familiar tune all of a sudden. Just a few notes and I knew what it was. I got excited! Just when I thought the show was over, it was just about to start!

There was a change of ambience in the screen, what was hip eventually turned into wild. People started clapping, standing up. Some of them probably identified the upcoming song as well and they were as excited as I was. Louder, more energetic cheers soon followed.

I waited for him. I knew he’d show up any minute now. The man is going to be there, back from his ordeal –triumphant by the looks of it.

“Pandemonium”, as Julia Clarete described it ensued, when a man, dressed in white shirt designed with a leukemia awareness ribbon came up the stage. Clearly, this man was well loved, missed.

He takes center stage. All eyes were on him, gathering everyone in the studio’s attention. Heck, probably a major part of the entire country’s population! He starts with his spiel, strong as ever.

Feel the chills crawl up your spine when he says: “I am back home, ladies and gentlemen. My NAME IS Francis M!”

Watch:

This is my last memory of him, and probably will stay the fondest. Too bad this fan didn’t get a chance to meet him in person and introduce myself. Manila is such a small place after all.

He was a music icon, one of those few who can truly claim the title —A patriot of this country, a champion to the Pinoy music scene, and an inspiration to all aspiring musicians, mostly of the hip-hop genre.

When others rapped about sex, violence and tasteless jokes, this true-blue artist rapped about Filipino values, national pride, hope, and the power of unity –things that we hardly hear about these days.

Francis Magalona was a voice, screaming his ideas to the top of his lungs, amidst the chattering crowd of the majority. Together with a select few others, they were voices that are often overpowered by the common notion of helplessness and lack of hope. They knew they were vastly outnumbered, but they kept trying.

They knew their voices were small and mostly unheard, but through their lives’ works, they pray that their little voices keep echoing throughout eternity.