"Jobless ka nga ubing!"
On our way home, we were brought to a stop by the red light. It was as well a cue for an alarming exploit. Apparently their version of the Christmas rush, children come rushing towards halted cars wishing even for a few loose change in exchange for a Christmas carol. They weren’t playing nor experiencing normal childhood. Innocently, they were meagerly working. At that moment, I told my 6-year old daughter the importance of valuing her education… More than the likely stability of a compensating job, it was more of the related realization of the subsequent generations. Then, I remembered that one time I was ‘jobless’. Like normal children usually do, my cousins together with my brother and I used to play a lot during our youth. We ran in circles, scampered up and down the stairs, climbed and carved our names on the guava tree. Our Grandmother’s house was anything but serene. Getting to be bothersome was the least of our worries until we hear a familiar berating voice...