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It is
said that a ball—a soccer ball—can change the world and
that the pitch in which people play in are its field of
dreams.
It may
be verily so but if you ask Russel Jacinto, an
18-year-old lass from Mindanao, football is all about
finding herself as a person, knowing she is a human
being, and that there is some goodness left in this
world.
You see,
after her father passed away several years ago, Jacinto,
at the tender age of 14, was brought to Manila by a
relative to take on the new mantle of bread winner for
her family. The five-foot-three girl with long black
hair was sad to leave her old life behind but was
excited about coming to Manila, that shining beacon of
hope and opportunity for many a probinsyano. Prior to
that, she had never even set foot outside her hometown
of Gacub, La Purisima, Prosperidad, Agusan del Sur, so
Manila was a whole new world for her. Within a day of
her arrival in the nation’s capital, the wonder had
turned into a nightmare.
Russel,
along with 25 other minors worked in a garment factory
in San Francisco del Monte, Quezon City. They worked
long hours under inhumane conditions—all bunched up in a
room that would normally only be good for less than 10
people. They had as little as five hours of sleep and
were tasked to do domestic chores that were clearly
outside their job description. Their employers subjected
them to so much verbal abuse and difficulty that Russel
would cry herself to sleep night after night. She
stifled her sobs only to realize that everyone else was
doing the same. They were fed—scraps of food with the
rice sometimes borderline spoiled—once or twice a day
depending on how the owner felt. And when they were
given meals, they were not even issued any eating
utensils. By contrast, the pet dogs of the factory owner
were fed even better. To cap off the cruelty, they were
paid far less than minimum wage.
That all
changed when one of her colleagues escaped and reported
the slavery to the police. The factory was raided and
the kids liberated to various orphanages or child
centers where they met more children like them. “Tanong
ko nga, ‘bakit kami dinala sa mundo tapos ganito lang
ang mangyayari sa amin,’” recalled Jacinto with a
mixture of anger and sadness.
It was
while at the Nayon ng Kabataan in Mandaluyong City where
Russel first watched members of the National Team to the
Homeless World Cup (HWC) practice. “Nagustuhan ko
yung football at na-inspire ako kaya
nagpumilit ako sumali,” she said, unable to hide her
newfound excitement and second chance to life.
It is,
in essence, the point and story of the HWC. It’s an
annual celebration of lost souls looking for a shot at
redemption and to find their place in the world. The
competition is also used to draw attention to the issues
of poverty in society.
The
first tournament took place in Graz, Austria, with 17
nations taking part. In the five editions of the HWC,
the organization has reported a 73-percent success rate
of its participants bettering their positions in life
after this unique experience.
The
sixth tournament that will be held in Melbourne,
Australia, from December 1 to 8, will find 54 teams
including first-time participant, the Philippines, in
the four-a-side mixed competition of players at least 16
years of age. In the HWC, teams (with a roster of eight
players) compete in two seven-minute halves in a
small-sized court of 22x16 meters. It’s like futsal,
only in a faster and more exciting setting.
Bill
Shaw is from East Jordan, Michigan, but he found his
calling in the Philippines as the executive director for
Urban Opportunities for Change Foundation Inc. and the
organizer for the local HWC. It’s a massive and
difficult undertaking but Shaw believes that, “It’s all
about getting kids off the streets, getting them an
education, and looking for opportunities. It’s not just
for the homeless but also those recovering from
substance and alcohol abuse and the poor. The HWC is a
home for the homeless and the disenfranchised.”
Ed
Formoso, most recently the media relations officer of
the Philippine Football Federation, has been a long-time
champion of football as an agent of change. He pushed
for the Gawad Kalinga football program and now has
joined forces with Shaw in helping the HWC Philippine
team. “Sports, they say is like education—a great
equalizer. But in our case, it’s about finding people’s
dignity and self-worth.”
Coaching
the team is the former Women’s National Team head coach
Marlon Maro, who knows what it’s like to grow up poor. “Huwag
na natin isipin kung maganda ’yung sweldo dahil wala
naman pera sa football dito sa atin. Konting
sakripisyo at tulong na lang ‘to para sa mga batang ‘to,
sa bayan, at sa growth ng sport.”
Maro’s
assistant is Jeff Landagan, head gaffer for the Rizal
Technological University football varsity, who grew up
in an orphanage and this is his way of giving back. Also
helping out are two Cameroonians—Paul Kiyek and Alex
Obiang. The two were “recruited” to play in a pro
football league in the Philippines and when they arrived
they found out they were not only duped out of their
money but there was nothing for them here. Strangers in
a strange land and armed with only basic conversational
English, they looked for a way to connect with the local
football community and found themselves drawn to HWC,
where they help train the team every weekend.
During
one practice, Paul wore an Inter Milan jersey while Alex
sported the black-and-white stripes of Juventus. The HWC
team was in their national kits while a few others in
the training pool bore the red jerseys of the RP Men’s
National Team. “We’re all homeless,” beamed Obiang. “But
through the game and this team, we found a home for now.
It makes life worth living.”
“Part of
the task is helping them after the HWC,” said a
concerned Shaw. “It’s the start of the long road to
recovery. But at least we’re on the road and off the
streets.”
Jeff
Solis knows the streets of Manila so well. Abandoned by
his mother years ago, he had to fend for himself by
begging, working as a jeepney barker, and sniffing rugby
when he wanted all his problems to go away. Picked up in
the stratosphere half-naked by the Manila Police, he was
brought to the Tuloy sa Don Bosco Street Children
Village in Muntinlupa, where half the HWC team comes
from (the other half hails from the Nayon ng Kabataan of
the Department of Social Welfare and Development in
Mandaluyong City). There he found a home, religion, an
education and football.
Excited
about the prospect of going to Australia and
representing the country, he was informed that he needed
his parents’ signature for him to get his passport to
Australia. After much looking, his mother surfaced one
day. She said “hi” to her long-lost son, signed the
papers and disappeared again. Just when Jeff is on the
rebound, his old life sneaks in a sucker punch to the
gut that leaves him in tears.
Maricel
Quitoy not only is from Agusan like Jacinto but she was
also in that sweatshop. Since her rescue, she has
written several letters to her mother telling her about
her travails in Manila. To date, she has not received
any reply at all. “Dito ang tahanan ko. Heto na ang
pamilya ko,” she pointed to her teammates. “Football…
ang pag-asa namin lahat.”
(Author’s Notes: How you can help: theformosoway@yahoo.com
and bill@thejeepney.com. Read The Jeepney and help
street people earn a proper living.) |
