T0 THEIR misfortune, those who tried to falsify Kimelody's papers had left a trail. The logbook, the file of documents received by the office of the Deputy Administrator and the Administrator, showed that a provisional authority dated December 13, 1995 — the day of the Kimelody tragedy — was routed to the office for the officials to sign. But realizing their mistake, a clerk was asked to alter the validity date. The deed was done sloppily, with a liquid eraser, and a superimposed "November" on top of the original date.

Out of that tragedy I met Tatang, whose daughter and granddaughter were among those who lost their lives in the Kimelody disaster. He would tirelessly follow up his papers, sleeping at the Luneta because he did not have the money for decent lodgings. He asked me so many times to explain the procedure, the legalities, and I did so, patiently, again and again. But when he asked me why his daughter and granddaughter had to die, I had no answer to give him. I often shared my money with him and treated him to lunch in our canteen. That made me feel good, but it did not ease my guilt. I knew that there was much more I could do — with God's help.

It was I who provided the data and documents, initially to a senator, then to the Senate Blue Ribbon Committee and the Committee on Public Services, which jointly launched an investigation into the maritime tragedies. It took a lot of convincing for the senator to finally agree to file a resolution to conduct an inquiry into the matter. I was even the one who drafted the resolution.

I sat through each and every Senate hearing, briefed the senators on what issues to focus on, and led them to where the accountability lay I realized that giving them the information was not enough. Most often, some of the senators and their legislative staff attended hearings without preparing for them. The staff were either too lazy or too busy to study an issue thoroughly I had to do their work for them.

I prepared some of the questions to be asked and explained painstakingly the technicalities of shipping and policies. I stayed up late in the agency to photocopy official documents and give them to the senators. I knew exactly how to catch these officials in a lie and coached the lawmakers how to trap them.

The Senate committees eventually saw cause to hold some officials criminally and administratively liable in the Kimelody Cristy case. They recommended the filing of charges before the Ombudsman. I could have stopped there. But I pushed on, asking a senator to file a complaint before the Ombudsman without waiting for the joint findings of the Committee on Public Services and the Senate Blue Ribbon Committee. I also coordinated closely with the Office of the Ombudsman and the Senate, so that the latter's findings could easily be forwarded to the Ombudsman.

I used my own money for transportation and photocopying expenses. I succeeded in getting the case filed and prosecuted. One director and two division chiefs are now being criminally prosecuted before the Regional Trial Court of Manila, Branch 50. The same director and a division chief have been clinging to their posts by virtue of a Temporary Restraining Order. They continue to receive their salaries and benefits.

The deputy got away scot-free. In one meeting in the agency just recently, insiders have told me that he boasted about paying off two investigators of the Ombudsman a whopping P300,000 each to get him off the hook. But my friends at my former agency say he immediately retracted this in another meeting, saying that he merely went to their residences to inform them that he has no money to pay them. As for the head of the agency, the President removed him from his post immediately after the Senate investigation.

I helped the new administrator in the strict enforcement of regulatory policies in the shipping industry. This was from 1996 to 1998. If you recall, not a single maritime accident occurred during this time. We enforced the rules and did not tolerate graft and corruption.

But by then I was already among the most unpopular people in the agency. My detractors circulated an anonymous poison letter labeling me the jilted mistress of the former agency head. They accused me of offering sexual favors in exchange for power. They even dragged the name of my late mother in their campaign against me, saying she had failed to teach me the proper values. But my detractors realized I meant business when I pursued my crusade even after the death of my former boss. Slander is the revenge of a coward and a dissimulation of his defense.

In 1996, while the Ombudsman's investigation was going on, two of the officials implicated in the case confronted me in my office during office hours. They had guns, which they pointed at me, cocked. I filed a complaint against them for grave misconduct before the Ombudsman.

The two officials filed an Oath of Undertaking confessing to their misconduct and apologizing to me. They filed a motion to withdraw the complaint, which was denied by the Ombudsman.

In February, the Ombudsman found the two officials guilty of the offense but their penalty was only one month's suspension from office. Was the Ombudsman waiting for these two scalawags to pull the trigger and kill me before meting out a heavier penalty?

WHEN THE agency's leadership changed hands again in 1998, some sympathetic officials recommended me for the post of chief of staff of the head of the agency. But this was denied by the new agency chief, who happened to be a close friend of the beleaguered deputy. He said, "Your name precedes you." He also implied I was not qualified for the position because I was "under" bar. But that was never a secret. And the irony of it was that it was the "under bar" who exposed the shenanigans of the lawyers and having them prosecuted.

Then came a time when I was supposed to go to Cebu and investigate a shipping company involved in another maritime tragedy. But the new administrator stopped me and said he would just talk it out with the lawyers. I knew then it was pointless to stay in the agency because violations are addressed by "talking it out." I resigned. True dignity is never gained by position and never lost when honors are withdrawn.

Immediately thereafter, Sulpicio Lines's Princess of the Orient capsized. Again, I coordinated with the Senate in the new investigation and in the drafting of a proposed maritime code. But only the shipping company was held liable. No one from the agency was punished. During the investigation, a columnist lambasted me, calling me the "mystery woman" executive who used to lord it over the agency's previous administrators but who got fired because I was unqualified for my position. The columnist also accused me of being a Sulpicio Lines lackey, an accusation as laughable as the rest of what he said.

In the meantime, I contacted various government officials who I thought could help me bring out the issue of corruption in that agency I would have wanted an audience with President Estrada and approached Press Secretary Rod Reyes and Executive Secretary Ronnie Zamora. I also went to the Civil Service Commission to inform Chairman Corazon Alma de Leon of what was happening in the agency I still have lot of documents, a paper trail. I prepared a "white paper" and delivered it personally to Malacañang. The officials of the agency think that I am far away and cannot possibly do anything. They are wrong.

Despite having left the agency, I have kept myself informed of the goings-on inside. I know exactly all the deals the agency officials made, the transactions they have entered into. I still have a lot of good friends there. And I get a lot of help from my friends outside the agency as well.

I admit it has not been easy for me. When I was still at the agency, at the height of my exposes, I would take my lunch all by myself and go home alone because my friends feared that they too would be harassed. I did not take this against them. I understood the risks and the consequences and I took them all.

But I did use to cry to my father almost every night because of the poison letter. My father has since passed away, but I can't forget what he told me every time: Why weep? You are not what they say you are. God knows your heart is pure, should anything else matter?