GOVERNANCE MATTERS Former Vice President Jejomar Binay This year, we will be celebrating Christmas under the most trying circumstances. The joyful exuberance that has characterized the Christmas season in our shores is now tempered by caution, if not fear of being infected by the COVID-19 virus. Christmas this year will be austere for millions of families whose breadwinners have lost their jobs. In most homes, there will be few holiday trimmings, less food on the table, and less reasons for cheer. There are those whose Christmas will be colored by the pain of loss. Some netizens have called this the worst Christmas season ever. That may be true for this generation. Very few can recall the first Christmas under Japanese occupation in 1942. Historians have described it the saddest Christmas in history. Written accounts paint a picture of an entire country in turmoil as occupation forces began their march to Manila during the early days of December. Cities were being abandoned en masse by fearful residents seeking refuge in the provinces. By December 24, the entire government leadership had abandoned the seat of power for Corregidor. Intramuros was bombed the next day. The city was in flames on Christmas Day. On the other hand, activists from my generation can recall what the first Christmas was like under martial law. When martial law was declared in September, 1972, I was detained along with thousands of lawyers, students, union leaders, journalists, and political personalities. I spent the next months being moved from one detention center to another, uncertain about the future. It was a daily struggle to keep one’s conviction and sanity intact. We drew strength from each other, and from our families. Ellen, who was then pregnant with our eldest daughter Nancy, visited me daily without fail. And we spent Christmas that year with me behind bars. It was our saddest Christmas. This year’s Christmas has given us more than enough reasons to be in a somber mood. We have lost family and friends to the virus. Senior citizens are suffering from the ordeal of being confined to homes. And able-bodied men and women are still uncertain if they can find employment in the coming year. There is also the frustration over the many missteps of the authorities. After more than nine months they still have not gotten their act together or found a sense of unity. The revelation made by no less than the foreign secretary that the health secretary “dropped the ball” on a deal to have vaccines available to us early next year, ahead of other ASEAN countries, is frustrating and infuriating. As expected, the authorities are sending conflicting guidelines on how we should conduct ourselves this season. Despite the absence of an extensive program for mass testing and contact tracing, we have been told to celebrate, to go on staycations in hotels and resorts. We have been told to shop, but at the same time, reminded sternly to avoid shopping in crowded places like Divisoria, which is prejudicial to the poor and to the small-scale sellers. We are encouraged to observe the traditions, but are discouraged from holding large gatherings of more than ten persons. Still, there are reasons to be grateful. Before the pandemic and the lockdown, we spent most of our time engrossed in work and other pursuits at the expense of time with family. In a bizarre way, we were made to interact with family members again. We bonded more. During the early stages of the lockdown, they served as our support system if not our lifeline. As I wrote before, Christmas gives us time to pause and reflect on the value of focusing on our family, of valuing our family first. This time, more than ever. Despite the adversities, this remains the season to be thankful for the blessings. Being alive is the biggest blessing of all. [email protected]