Original story at: http://www.mb.com.ph/a-fishermans-tale-my-job-is-to-make-my-kids-survive/
by Pinky Concha – Colmenares
When does despair come to a father of three, two of them with special needs, whose wife had left to look for a job five years ago and did not come back; whose house had been destroyed by deterioration and poverty; and whose motorized banca, donated by a foundation, had been immobilized by a falling coconut?
“Pas-an ko tanan,” Jonathan Buenafe, 47, said. The old Illongo saying means – I carry everything on my shoulder. It states the story of his life. Even despair is a feeling he cannot afford.
To this poor fisherman, his main role in life is to feed his children and survive the day.
“Tulo lang luha ko. Pero ang akon na lang subong kon paano ko mapabuhi ang mga bata (My tears fall when I think of my situation, but my focus now is how I can keep my children alive).
“My job is to make my kids survive,” he said
The sea is his source of food. He has been fishing since he was 10, he said. His father was a fisherman; his brothers are fishermen. They live beside the sea in Barangay Gargato, Hinigaran, where the serene beachfront has already inspired entrepreneurs to set up small resorts.
His banca “parks” in front of a resort and he has been asked to move it elsewhere, to clear the way for a more idyllic beach front panorama.
Since fishing is Jonathan’s only skill, he goes out to sea whenever he can – either alone in his boat or with a group in a bigger boat to catch more fish to feed his three children – Kenneth, 16, John Glen, 10, and Jonalyn, 7. John Glen and Jonalyn have been diagnosed as mentally challenged.
The catch – depending on the season – gives him the cash to buy rice and pay for fuel.
In April, 2013, he received a motorized banca from the Negrense Volunteers for Change (NVC), a foundation that has already given 4,600 bancas to fishermen’s helpers who wished to become fishermen.
It is the banca that sustains his family but when the fish are in season, he rides out with a brother in a bigger banca farther out to sea to catch more – and bring home more than the P100 a day he averages on his own.
On good summer days, the bigger banca hauls in about four boxes of galunggong. If they can sell that for P150 a box, they have P600, which the four fishermen divide among themselves, after expenses.
But a generous fish season also means that other fishermen are harvesting more.
Hence, prices in the market are lower, sometimes too low. Jonathan said they have to sell their catch no matter the low price or it will go to waste.
They have no facility to store the fish, and bringing it back home means paying for fare.
For the first time during our conversation, he verbalized a thought for the community.
“We should have an association to protect small fishermen like me. The associations are for those who can afford to process the fish into dried fish. They can dictate the prices of what we catch.”
He shrugs that off as part of life. He does not seem to worry too much about having nothing to feed his children. “In this community, people are generous with their food. If you have none, just go to a house and ask, and they will give you,” he said.
But before you get to that, there’s the sea for food, he said.
The sea is his workplace and he respects its mood. Before he goes out to sea every morning, he says a prayer – first, to ask for a good catch, and second, that he will come back to his children.
“Sometimes the sea is greedy, there is no fish, so I move somewhere else. Sometimes the weather changes suddenly, the sea becomes rough. Once, the waves overturned my boat and I had to cling to it until rescuers came,’’ he said.
When he is not fishing, Jonathan is a parent – and at such times, he loses the chance to earn. His time is taken by tasks involved in taking care of two children with special needs.
“Akon tanan, (I do everything),” he said. He spoon-feeds, bathes, and entertains his two children. When he has to go somewhere, he carries the youngest one like a baby. Neighbors only have good words about his parenting. “Jonathan cannot earn during the times he has to look after his children, but he does not complain,” a neighbor said.
This father’s loving care shows through the behavior of his children. They are well-groomed, charming, and well-behaved. He has taught them some manners; they behaved well during the time we were with them.
Like any children, they enthusiastically consumed the doughnuts and candies we brought, but ate them without making a mess. Unlike most kids who demand attention when there is a visitor, the children sat where they were and behaved quite well.
It was his children’s needs that led him to NVC Foundation. Since they were malnourished, they qualified for a feeding program organized by NVC. It was there where he met NVC Foundation President Millie Locsin Kilayko who later retold Jonathan’s story to this writer.
Ms. Kilayko said she was attracted to the well-groomed and charming children, who were pleasant at the gathering. It was also there where Jonathan had asked for a boat. On April 30, 2013, NVC donated a motorized banca to Jonathan.
He has no bitter feelings that his two kids are mentally challenged. “They are my children,” he said.
Sadness comes from his wife walking away from them. “That is what really makes me sad. It is so painful that she just left. She went to Manila to look for a job and then did not communicate with us. That was five years ago.”
When his house was destroyed by a heavy rain, Jonathan and his three children went to live on his parents’ house, a 12-foot x 14-foot bamboo structure that’s nicely ventilated by bamboo slots laid in a crossing pattern. With his parents out on vacation, he leaves his kids in that house when he goes out to sea at 3 a.m. He locks the bamboo door with a neat knot to keep the children inside until he comes back mid-morning.
His son Kenneth feeds the two younger ones before he leaves for school at six. Then he ties the knot to lock the door when he leaves. The breeze and the view outside keep the children occupied and out of trouble – perhaps until one of them learns how to untie the knot.
“Sometimes when someone cries, a neighbor checks on them,” he said. But that is not always possible because neighbors also have chores to do, like go out to sea and fish.
Does he think of the future? Yes, he said. The future is his son, Kenneth, who is now in fourth year high school. “I want him to finish school so he can help us and he can have a better life,” Jonathan said, allowing his gaze to fall on his good son who had sat quietly beside him all through the interview.
Kenneth walks about five kilometers to the highway where he catches a jeepney that would take him to Hinigaran National High School. He is back by lunch to join his family.
By then, his father is back from the sea and the family sits to have a meal. “All I need is enough money to buy rice. The fish comes from the sea,” he said.
Tomorrow, Jonathan will look for a way to give a meal to his children again. “That’s my job,” he said.