Congressman Manny Pacquiao and the A-Team

Lately, I’ve been playing the song “A-Team”. The first time I heard this song was a couple of days ago as I was fiddling through the dials of my satellite radio on my way to work. I heard bits and pieces of a hauntingly beautiful voice that tells of:  

“White lips, pale face Breathing in snowflakes Burnt lungs, sour taste Light's gone, day's end Struggling to pay rent Long nights, strange men   And they say She's in the Class A Team Stuck in her daydream Been this way since 18 But lately her face seems Slowly sinking, wasting Crumbling like pastries And they scream The worst things in life come free to us Cos we're just under the upperhand And go mad for a couple grams And she don't wanna go outside tonight And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland Or sells love to another man It's too cold outside For angels to fly Angels to fly…”

  But what caught my attention the most were the words: “And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland.”   Like a thought that gnaws at your conscience, I found myself choked up. For I can’t even begin to imagine the substance abuse and pain that she must have endured as she thinks of home.   I wanted to learn the rest of the lyrics.   I couldn’t hurry enough to get to my office because of the snarled traffic near my exit. But as soon as I arrived and sat in front of my computer, I googled the song and found out that it was written and composed by Edward Christopher "Ed" Sheeran, a 21-year-old English singer-songwriter, who in 2011 broke through commercially with this single that debuted third on the United Kingdom’s chart.   Now and then by happenstance, you find gems of songs such as this one that pushes the right buttons and touches you in a familiar and deep sense, and in a very emotional way at that.   Recently, I have been reflecting a lot about our country’s involvement in human trafficking. For a small country such as ours to be branded and ranked as one of the top five locations for human trafficking is not only difficult, but also, very painful to accept.   Many of our women in order to support themselves and their families go where the perceived economic opportunities of the moment are. It strikes me that the reality of abject poverty for millions of our people becomes the very source of how our country moves along, if not, how it financially survives. Today, that means an international market that grades the value of our women by services rendered and prices paid, legal or not.   Our role in human trafficking is too profane that I cannot scarcely recall a moment that both our local and OFW women have not been stereotypically marginalized in the public domain, sometimes celebrated on the dais as the new heroines, while at the same time, denigrated as sources of cheap sex and labor. Theirs is indeed a cold and cruel world “for angels to fly.”   And yet, I cannot think of a consistent and sustained effort on the part of our government to combat this social ill. While our politicians who seem to only care about money and power, do not really give a damn about this malignity, Congressman Manny Pacquiao stands out. He just committed himself to working against human trafficking.   I must confess that I had been critical of our Pambansang Kamao’s political persona. But if there is one thing that I admire about him, aside from being a gifted boxer, it is his commitment to this issue. I think he pledged himself to something special, and it is even nicer than winning a boxing match.   I am proud to tell him that he has my admiration and support with this issue.