There was a time when politics wasn’t about personal gain—it was about serving the people. A time when it was shameful for a politician to flaunt wealth while so many suffered in poverty. Back then, decent individuals entered government not to enrich themselves, but to help build a nation.

And then, there was Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino—a man born into wealth and privilege who rose to the highest ranks of national politics. But unlike many, Ninoy discovered that true service is guided by a higher power, by God, and without this divine guidance, no real change could ever occur.

I was just a wide-eyed elementary student when the news of Senator Benigno S. Aquino Jr.’s assassination flashed across our black-and-white TV screen. I didn’t know him personally, but the reactions of my family told me this was no ordinary death. This wasn’t just another headline about an extrajudicial killing; it was something much deeper, much more significant.

I vividly recall the image of a man with glasses, tears streaming down his face as he learned of his brother’s death. The airport was filled with grief-stricken people, many holding banners demanding justice. The government tried to spin a tale, suggesting that Communist rebels were behind the assassination, but many believed it was the handiwork of the Marcos regime. My mother explained that the man who was killed was the most vocal critic of the Marcos family, the leader of the opposition.

As a child, I had no reason to think ill of Ferdinand Marcos. In fact, like many others, I admired his oratory skills and often watched him on TV. So, it was hard for me to understand why this bespectacled man, bloodied and lifeless, would oppose the government. I learned that he had led a rally in our community, a rally that most people watched from their windows, too afraid to join, fearing for their lives under a regime that silenced dissent.

Images of Ninoy’s bloodied body in a simple casket were broadcast across the nation, and thousands, if not millions, saw them. I remember the widow in a yellow dress, and the brother, speaking of the yellow ribbons they had prepared for Ninoy’s homecoming, only to learn he had been shot dead on the airport tarmac, surrounded by security guards.

As news of Ninoy’s death spread, it became the talk of our community. My uncles and aunts were among those who joined the massive funeral procession, where people from all walks of life marched together. Half a million Filipinos came together to mourn the loss of a man who, even in death, united a nation.

But who was this man whose murder remains shrouded in mystery? Why do millions of Filipinos regard him as a hero?

Ninoy was born into a wealthy political family in Tarlac, with a father who had been accused of collaborating with the Japanese during World War II. But Ninoy charted his own path. As a young war correspondent, he quickly made a name for himself, eventually becoming the youngest mayor of Tarlac, and later, one of the most distinguished senators in the country, even surpassing the great nationalist Claro M. Recto in some eyes.

Ninoy became a thorn in the side of the Marcoses, relentlessly criticizing their policies. When martial law was declared, he was among its fiercest opponents, and for that, he was imprisoned. But even when faced with death in jail, he held firm to his beliefs. When his health deteriorated, he was allowed to seek treatment in Boston, where he underwent a successful bypass operation. But Ninoy’s fight didn’t end there. From the U.S., he continued his crusade against the Marcos regime, driven not by political ambition, but by a deep-seated love for his country and a desire to save it from further ruin.

In the early 1980s, as the Philippine economy plummeted, Ninoy felt it was his duty to return home and confront the Marcoses. Unlike Marcos, who had also started as a young, idealistic leader, Ninoy never wavered in his principles. Marcos might have been a brilliant legal mind, but it was Ninoy who reached out to the Hukbalahaps, convincing them to work with the government, while Marcos focused on consolidating his power.

Ninoy’s marriage to Corazon Cojuangco, another member of a prominent Tarlac family, solidified his political influence in Central Luzon. Meanwhile, Marcos married into the Romualdez family from Leyte, further entrenching his political dynasty. But while Marcos ascended to the presidency, Ninoy remained close to the people, a true servant of the nation.

Whatever we may say about Ferdinand Marcos, one thing is clear—he and Ninoy shared a sense of decency. Despite their bitter rivalry, Marcos did not order Ninoy’s immediate execution. And even though he had every reason to do so, Ninoy never took up arms against Marcos. He believed there was still good in Marcos and remained steadfast in that belief until his dying breath.

As a senator, Ninoy never saw public funds as his personal treasury. He fought against Marcos because he believed that treating public money as a personal bank account was a cardinal sin. Ninoy was meticulous with his spending, respecting the people and their hard-earned taxes.

So how did we end up in this deplorable situation, where leaders treat public funds as their own? Where the sacred trust placed in them by the people is violated time and again? Ninoy and the politicians of his time respected themselves and the people they served. They never saw themselves as gods, but as humble servants of the nation.

My fellow Filipinos, it is time to reject these parasitic politicians who have infested our government. Let us remember Ninoy Aquino as the standard by which all public servants should be measured. Let us elect leaders who fear God, who love their country more than themselves, and who are committed to building a better future for all Filipino families. It is time to reclaim our nation and our dignity.