George is dead.
George arrived later than the rest of the Cebu media at the Hilton Resort in Mactan. We were waiting for the arrival of President Arroyo when George approached me and started a conversation about writing for newspaper.
George had a personality that earned him many friends from the media, the government, police, and the public. He always joked around about just anything. He wore a happy face despite the problems he was facing. And most of all, he was always willing to help.
George wanted to write in the newspaper where I am currently working. He was a broadcaster at a local radio station and wrote column at a local newspaper. Most of his commentaries were directed to Customs officials who were allegedly involved in smuggling. His hard-hitting words earned him the ire of officials who are into illegal activities.
George had two luxury cars. A beautiful house in a posh subdivision. A beach resort in Southern Cebu. Several small business and various stores. Although a lot of people were also questioning how George, a mere reporter, managed to get all of the good things he had, George’s didn’t mind the criticisms.
George also confided about him wanting to marry his long time girlfriend next year. I should be invited, I said. George returned a smile and answered positively.
I never thought my conversation with George on that morning in Hilton would be my last.
Last night, a gunman waited for George in one of his stores in Talisay City. When George arrived at the area at past 9 p.m., the gunman suddenly approached him and poked a .45 caliber gun on his head. The gun jammed. George didn’t run. He grappled with the gun but the gunman overpowered him. When George fell to the ground, the gunman pounced three bullets into his body.
It was a common knowledge among his friends in the Cebu Media that George had two guns, a .45 caliber and an Ingram, but fate had it that George must left his weapons in the vehicle.
George, my friend who wanted to work with me in the same newspaper that I am currently working, died in the hospital. On the way to the hospital, George kept saying that he didn’t know the gunman. He was brave enough to keep saying that he will survive. But the operation to remove the bullets from his neck and shoulder proved to be fatal.
George’s effort to rid government offices, especially the Bureau of Customs, cost him his life. He had been receiving death threats before and, in fact, he survived an attempt to his life early this year. But George didn’t stop his commentaries. His columns even got more bitter for the officials concerned. And he was always not afraid to face death as he always told his friends.
George died with his cause. Another media man, a good man, is now added in the list of journalists killed in this country. Freedom of expression is once again shattered as people hit by George’s commentaries resort to holding justice in their hands instead of bringing the issue to the court in the form of a libel case.
This country is becoming a very dangerous place for journalists. Tell the truth and you will die. Do nothing and the public, those affected by corruption and illegal activities, will die of hunger and poverty. When you become a media man, you are burying one of your feet in the ground.
George Benaojan, who had a personality that earned him many friends from the media, the government, police, and the public, who always joked around about just anything, who wore a happy face despite the problems he was facing, who was always willing to help, is dead.
Another page in the book of Press Freedom is torn. Only a few leaves are left.
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