Sana (kub)ol

So the Bureau of Corrections is dismantling kubols in the New Bilibid Prison compound AGAIN. A kubol, for the uninitiated, is that peculiarly Filipino invention of a customized personal space in a prison that is supposed to have standardized living quarters for all prisoners.

This is strange because then Justice Secretary Leila de Lima (2010-2016) made a big to-do about demolishing kubols in her time — which was also the Golden Age of Kubols. It was in 2014 when I, as a lawyer for one NBP inmate (who eventually became part of the so-called  “Bilibid 19,” but more on that later) went to the prison for an initial conference with my client, who obviously couldn’t come to my office.

I was shocked — shocked! — when I arrived at the compound, and not only because I was ushered in through a side door by a warden who put me in a fancy golf cart to take me to my client. En route, I saw that there were buildings(!) inside the prison premises housing — okay, be ready for this — mini-groceries, beauty salons and barber shops, spas, restaurants and, I was to learn later, a high-tech recording studio and radio-television broadcast facility.

My client was waiting for me in a three-story(!) building. The first floor housed a fully-equipped office(!) and staff; the second floor was my client’s office with phones and a computer connected to the Internet, and a separate conference room for 12 people; the third floor housed his quarters (a bedroom with toilet, shower and bathtub). Responding to my quizzical look, he answered my unasked question: “Attorney, dito lahat puede basta ‘magpaangat’ ka kay secretary (Anything goes here, just ‘take it up’ with the secretary).”

Anyways (to use the favorite expression of my friend Arni Teves), back to my client. Later that year, he and 18 other prisoners had a falling out with Secretary De Lima over what he claimed to be drug dealing inside Bilibid, and they were transferred incommunicado to the National Bureau of Investigation compound. To the frantic cries of their families who feared that they would be liquidated, I filed for a writ of amparo before the Court of Appeals.

Their detention was ruled unconstitutional, and their families and I were allowed see them, albeit with very strict restrictions. The story that they told me of drug trafficking inside the NBP compound would later form the backbone of the indictments against De Lima once Aquino was out of power. I had cautioned them to keep things under wraps, as such disclosures then would definitely put them in grave danger.

Back to the kubols. De Lima invited the press to witness their destruction, and the mediamen’s jaws dropped — as mine did years before — at the sight of luxury houses complete with airconditioning, king-size beds and Jacuzzis; a state-of-the-art recording studio; a radio and television station with equipment to rival many commercial stations; among other things.

As De Lima smiled smugly for the cameras, claiming credit for “cleaning up Bilibid,” friends in media asked her the question, obliquely and sometimes directly, “How could such a thing happen under your watch and your very nose all these years?”

The answer was somehow provided in the probe by the House of Representatives in 2017, when an inmate testified that in a meeting with the late J.B. Sebastian (one of the privileged inmates who was said to have done De Lima’s bidding  in the Bilibid drug trade) inside his , De Lima held on to a pole (one provided for pole dancing) and, after preening, looked at Sebastian and said, “Okay ba, J.B.?” She knew, and tolerated — nay, encouraged — it.

The authorities can knock down the kubols every year, and they will keep springing back up again, unless drastic reforms in the correctional system are made. In this, we sincerely wish Secretary  Boying all the luck and success in the world. So when these kubols are removed, we can plausibly wish, SANA (KUB) ALL

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