WHAT should a very important politician, who is serving a life sentence for plunder, do with his time throughout his incarceration? I threw this question at the folks at my favorite watering hole in Daly City, Calif.
According to them, the VIPs (Very Important Prisoners) should consult former Congressman Romeo Jalosjos. Jalosjos, a personal friend of mine going back to advertising and pre-politics days, made the mistake of messing with a minor and found himself sentenced to two life terms for statutory rape.
Folks in the media and ad industry knew Jalosjos to be the Ultimate Survivor, mounting a venture and soaring to the very top, then suddenly plunging to virtual bankruptcy, but always managing to get back on his feet and soar again. This saga of peak and valley and peak and valley happened more than once.
But what he reportedly did during his 13 years of incarceration (his sentence was commuted and he was subsequently pardoned by President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo) should provide some valuable lessons for Senators Bong Revilla, Jinggoy Estrada and Juan Ponce Enrile, as well as the other VIPs who will reportedly join them in jail.
In a blog posted on March 2012 by Ven J. Tesoro, a former prison superintendent at the National Penitentiary, he wrote: “Prisoner Jalosjos was just a statistic as far as the organization [was] concerned. What made him apart [was] not how the facility intended it to be, it [was] the inmates who were around him that made him exceptional.”
Tesoro went on to narrate Jalosjos’ arrival at the National Penitentiary, after spending time at the Makati City Jail (I’m quoting it verbatim):
“…when Romeo Jalosjos was brought from Makati Jail to the National Penitentiary, and was escorted to the prison overseers office for assignment of dormitory, he noticed several people, in tangerine uniform seated across the room where he was supposed to be processed.
“He humbly asked the prison officer, the one on the big table, if he will have to wait for the completion of those around before he can be taken up. The answer was curt. He will be processed immediately and those around him are gang leaders out to bid for his retention in their respective dormitories. Surprised at what he heard, he asked if the bidding involves money.
“There was silence and there were nods from the predatory glances of gang leaders. (At that time, not my time though, gang leaders were reckoned by prison administration since they hold the peace in the prison camp. Gangs were in control almost of everything, even in handling of keys to cell and dormitory padlock except for the gates.) Jalosjos ever the politician smiled at those around and asked for the winning bidder. Hearing nothing, he asked how much was at stake. Again, there was silence until a burly prison guard, his escort, whispered to him an amount. He had a wide grin and whispered back to the guard.
“The personnel slowly moved towards the direction of the gang leaders and thereafter approach the officer manning the imposing officer desk. What has been concluded in those whispering negotiation was a clear understanding of all parties in said office.
“Instead of a gang buying off an inmate as their winning chip, here is an inmate proposing to buy off a gang. And so, Jalosjos never went through the rigor of being initiated into the fold of a gang. He at that instance became an owner of one!”
Tesoro recalled how Jalosjos was quartered in the building occupied by the Batang City Jail (BCJ) gang, with members of the gang carrying his bags and other personal belongings for him. Despite the cell being jam-packed, the inmates made sure to provide a lot of elbow room for Jalosjos.
In the years that Jalosjos spent in prison, according to Tesoro, he was a virtual godfather for prisoners needing financial help and a benefactor for the penitentiary itself.
Because his fellow inmates had developed a habit of touching him for money, Jalosjos decided to set up a revenue-generating enterprise in the premises, a restaurant. He happened to know his way around restaurants, having owned and operated several of them in Makati and Quezon City before going into politics.
Recalled Tesoro, “Jalosjos would propose that instead of prisoners forming a bee line asking for assistance, he would just organize a food shop, assume its capital and tap expert chefs from outside. The consideration for said project was that the inmate project holders would take charge of those who would seek Jalosjos’ assistance. The revenue from the project will have to defray whatever it asked of him and through his referral should be acted upon.
“And so the project was born and it would be the most renowned eatery inside. It became a hamburger joint and for quite a time after it opened, it received a deluge of orders. I was one among those hooked.
“The secret of the recipe was also common knowledge among us, the customers. The top chef in five star hotels were invited by Jalosjos to train his inmate cooks. The joint became famous and it was even featured once again in media as Jalosjos’ hamburger stand.”
When media got wind of this, the prison officials were reprimanded and operations were suspended. But as soon as media attention was focused elsewhere, it was happy days all over again.
That wasn’t all that Jalosjos did, wrote Tesoro.
“Jalosjos perseverance to introduce infrastructure and renovation became common place until media never cared at all. Here was one prisoner, spending for the improvement of a penal facility. He would hire private contractors to cement the pathway leading to his dormitory. He would even redesign the shanty-looking accessories in front of the dormitory. He would build a sports auditorium and a tournament size tennis court. All these at his expense.”
Meantime, Romy Jalosjos ran for Congress behind bars and won! It should be obvious where Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo got her cue. Or Bong Revilla for that matter. He appears intent on running for president while serving a life sentence.
That’s a novel idea, come to think of it. Assuming he wins (which is a long shot, of course) he could grant himself full and unconditional pardon.
But in all seriousness, Ponce Enrile, Estrada and Revilla actually have an opportunity to counter balance the ugly portrait that their involvement in the pork barrel scam, a vengeful public and a mischievous media have painted of them.
Revilla can certainly make use of his bible. Many former rabble rousers who were thrown in jail reinvented themselves as evangelists. Why not him?
Between Revilla and Estrada, they could conceive and produce a full length movie, starring themselves, about the deplorable conditions suffered by non-VIP inmates. Proceeds from the movie could go to the needy families of prisoners who help in the production of the film.
Ponce Enrile, on the other hand, could introduce the inmates to the intricacies of the Philippine legal system and even, subsequently, conduct law classes, accredited by one of the Manila universities. Imagine rehabilitated prisoners being released from prison as members of the bar!
What about Janet Napoles? Well, the last thing she should consider doing is setting up a fake NGO. But nothing can stop her from setting up a genuine, bona fide non-government organization dedicated to uplifting the lives of the people she helped to impoverish.
