Have you ever stepped out of the house then hear the fierce, crackle of thunder? You rush back in to get an umbrella and your rain gear. After rummaging through your closet and finding out that the only good umbrella left is a pink, foldable pocket umbrella, you step out again.
You don your rain gear and begin to unfold the pink umbrella, anticipating a downpour.
Ten minutes pass. You're standing just outside the door of your house. People stare at you and walk to the other side of the street. You look up and there're nothing but clouds the color of heavy, swirly inkwash. You sniff and smell the smell of water when it hits dry earth.
The first drops of rain fall with sudden ferocity and then just as suddenly, stop.
You begin to wonder what all the sudden commotion was about as you stand and stare in the warm, humid silence. Pretty much like a ball of dough still waiting to rise.
This is the Ever and Echeverri debacle told through a metaphor.
It is funny how some of us find a sense of morality (or even some semblance of it) in adverse situations. Suddenly, we're a victim of some evil and we're wailing to all to come to our aid. The thing is, some people are happy living with evil as long as they can get their way.
It's a dirty world my friend, especially after a five minute downpour. The filth that was homogenous dust have now turned into sticky, muddy pools that tend to cling to the soles of your feet.
When is the Philippines going to change?
It won't. Money changes hands, three weeks pass, and all is forgotten.
Or will it?