Roberto Jimenez, called Bodgie by his friends, was among the first generation of youth activists that threw themselves enthusiastically into the political and social movement that would soon develop into the First Quarter Storm of 1971.
They had realized the extent and depth of the problems besetting Philippine society, and that these problems were not merely personal in nature like laziness and lack of education. Political organizing had been reaching out to his community. Bodgie and his friends absorbed lessons and discussed the new ideas, more inspired by this education than they had ever been in school. And these were lessons that they put into practice. Soon Bodgie had become a member of the local chapter of Kabataang Makabayan; the chapter would later call itself Katipunan ng Kabataang Demokratiko or KKD.
Every time there was something going on, Bodgie was there – “laging laman ng rali at mass action.” The streets of Manila, Plaza Miranda. in front of the United States embassy, picket lines, the workers’ strike at US Tobacco – these became the schools where they listened to speeches and learned from each other. They made friends with jeepney drivers, factory workers, young people from other communities and schools. They spent their own money too, whatever was in their pocket, for food and transport.
Bodgie Jimenez began frequenting schools and urban poor communities in Balut, Gagalangin and Obrero, all in Tondo. There he tirelessly spread the message that solving the people’s problems meant understanding the root causes, and organizing for the defense of people’s rights.
What is said to be the first street play at the time – a Lenten drama called “Ang Kalbaryo ni Juan de la Cruz” staged as a long procession from Tondo to Plaza Miranda, where Inang Bayan is finally liberated – was mounted by theatre artists and KKD activists in 1970.
These were protest actions denouncing the “tatlong ismo” – imperialism, feudalism and bureaucrat capitalism – and calling for revolutionary change.
Bodgie was not a privileged kid. He was the youngest of seven brothers and sisters born into a family living in Balut, Tondo, traditionally the heart of working-class Manila. His father was engaged in “buy and sell,” sourcing and supplying products for a big drugstore chain. Following his death in 1965, his mother took over and worked hard too: earning by sewing, cooking food, doing buy-and-sell. The children did well in their studies, including Bodgie who wanted to become a lawyer/policeman someday. This was why he enrolled in a criminology course.
The teenage Bodgie had many friends. He was always joking around. He was good with children. He used to dress snappily in long-sleeved shirts and bell-bottom pants, in fashion then. And even when he got extra busy as an activist, he made sure to come home early enough so that his mother and siblings would not worry.
Bodgie had been a city boy all his life. But the time came when he became eager to apply his skills in organizing and education work to the impoverished peasant communities in the countryside. This was when the government of Ferdinand Marcos Sr. started cracking down hard on the protest movement. The privilege of the writ of habeas corpus was suspended on August 31, 1971, allowing arbitrary arrests and detention without the protection of legal processes. Bodgie went underground.
It was learned later that he had gone to the Bicol region, where the area around Tigaon, Camarines Sur, was already heavily militarized. There, Bodgie Jimenez was known as Karyo.
An armed encounter on December 18, 1971 happened between members of the Philippine Constabulary and the small guerrilla unit that Karyo belonged to. He suffered a gunshot wound in the arm, and the same bullet also entered his stomach, but he survived. Karyo was rescued by local residents and brought from one house to another. Bleeding heavily, he was brought to a hospital in Albay. Many sympathized with him and donated blood. It is said that the unusual stream of blood donors attracted the attention of the military, and they came to arrest him in early January of 1972.
The captive was brought to the V. Luna Medical Center in Quezon City. His family was not informed.
Bodgie’s mother looked for him everywhere, eventually learning that he had been seriously wounded. Told to go to PC headquarters in Camp Crame, she and one of her daughters rushed to see him, only to find him dead, in the morgue, with bruises and cigarette burns all over his body. Even his wounds were marked by cigarette burns.
Roberto Jimenez died at the age of 21. At his wake, crowds came to pay their respects and consoled his mother and sisters, saying that he had helped them and that he lived his life serving the people – “para sa bayan.”
