President Rodrigo Duterte is being attacked by a new kind of propaganda, one that uses children and minors allegedly killed during police’s drug operations.
Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD) Assistant Secretary and social media personality Lorraine Badoy said that Duterte is taking a lot of blows recently because of the brave undertakings he pursued that no other before him did.
As Duterte intensifies his war on illegal drugs, more and more politicians linked to the underground trade are threatened, thus, they do everything they can to malign the President.
By making him unfavorable to the people, anti-Dutertes hope it would stir a revolution that will impeach Duterte and put them in power.
Badoy draws an analogy of the father and his sick daughter with cancer. It is only reasonable that the father seeks the best solutions for his child no matter the lengths or hurt it would cause him.
Detached aunts living their posh lives would only criticize the father for doing it wrong, but they will not step in to help. Eventually, even if it would cause pain, if the best solution is sure to bring a smile back to his daughter, a father would do it.
Badoy concludes the story by saying, “And you will do all you can to make sure that that day will come when she can look back at this dark chapter in her life and be grateful she had such a Tatay who made those tough calls no one wanted to make and stood by and bore the pain of seeing you wither away—so now you step into the light.”
Just as the father would find ways to cure his daughter, so is Duterte going to great lengths just to salvage the country.
Read the full blog of Ms. Badoy below:
“It can’t be easy being Rodrigo Roa Duterte these days.
The slings and arrows trained on him by those who would like his Presidency to be nothing but an utter and abject failure are legion and they come from all sides. This is the price the President pays for taking on enemies no other president before him has had the gall to take on.
Why wouldn’t they want him to fail? He is what comes between them and the people they’ve held hostage all these decades. And they’ve lost BILLIONS and everyday that he sits there as President, they stand to lose billions even more.
Why wouldn’t they want him to fail when they were in cahoots with drug lords as they sat in office, these traitors to country, and they feel the noose ever-tightening around their necks?
There is outrage in that camp for the way Rodrigo Duterte has clamped down on their operations. So that these days, they just squeak by minus the impunity and the arrogance and the brazenness before their biggest nightmare, Rodrigo Duterte sat in office.
So they are hitting him where they know it’s going to hurt: with our children. Aided, on no small part by narco-financed rogue cops and too, by a prostituted press that tries to reframe the truth so it would seem like his hands are awash in blood.
And still, he stands firm. The way a father with a child with cancer stands firm by her bedside as needles sew into her and she cries in pain.
I cannot imagine a more lonely job than the presidency right now.
It can’t be easy being President right now.
You’re the father of a child with cancer (what else is this drug scourge but cancer?) and the buck stops with you. You—and no one else—will need to make decisions to make sure your child lives. And thrives.
And you will bear it as the toxic medicine takes effect and you will see her lose her hair, become skeletal because everything tastes like steel and the precious little she manages to take in gets puked a few seconds after she takes them in. And you will need to bear to see her in pain and to listen to her scream in pain and to beg you to please make the pain stop, daddy.
And as hard as all that can be, and as any parent in this whole wide world will agree—nothing could be harder than to be that parent who made those calls. And that whatever pain your child feels, you feel it a hundred times more.
Then you’ll have to bear listening to that ass of a relative in the US/Australia/Europe—the one who no longer lives here and has her fat butt comfortably jammed in a plush sofa of her 1st world existence while she jampacks Cheetos in her big mouth —tell you what it is you ought to do because she clearly knows far better than you the hell you are going through. Then judge you severely every step of the way.
MGA WALANG MODO!
You could idly sit by—the way past caregivers of this child did –and pretend that that cancer didn’t exist, eating away at your child.
And you could, like past caregivers did, instead just give fake juju placebo treatments that will make it seem like you are doing something. And you can go to that child and show her charts of just how great her health is so she could maybe forget the cancer eating at her insides and how, at that very moment, she was on the verge of a fulminant rot and the damage to her, close to irreversible.
But if you did that, you knew death would be inevitable.
So you look the enemy in the eye. And go for it, full throttle.
And then bear it, bear it, bear it—as the strong medicine takes effect and where it will seem like the cure is worst than the disease itself.
You hold your breath and you will only exhale when the worst is over. When each and ever mutant cell that has ransomed your child’s life has been deactivated and when the color creeps back into her cheeks and when she can finally smile the smile of a happy healthy child.
In the meantime, you hold your sick child in your arms –tight. No one will snatch her from you again for as long as you live.
And you will do all you can to make sure that that day will come when she can look back at this dark chapter in her life and be grateful she had such a Tatay who made those tough calls no one wanted to make and stood by and bore the pain of seeing you wither away—so now you step into the light.
And have become ever stronger, ready to be all you can be.