A few weeks ago, my husband and I were at a conference at the kids’ school and our older girl’s teacher-in-charge jokingly made some remarks about a public school building in Antipolo. He had passed by the school a few days earlier and had noticed the Superman logos on the school’s gates.

You didn’t misread that. I did write Superman. You know, the logo on his shirt? The inverted triangle with the eye-catching yellow and red colors and the big S? That is the logo on the school’s gates. Of course, here in Antipolo, the S stands for Sumulong, the surname of the incumbent mayor. The subliminal effect, of course, is to associate Mr. Sumulong with the strength and prowess of Superman. Some illusion, eh?

The obvious question is why the mayor’s initials are on the gate of a public school. A public school is built and maintained with taxpayers’ money. A public school is not owned by any public official, incumbent or otherwise, even if it was erected through his initiative and during his incumbency. That’s the job of local officials—build schools, hospitals and other infrastructures meant for public service. That’s the job they signed up for and that’s the job they are obliged to perform.

In the case of the Superman logo, the intent has a rather complicated angle. See, it is obviously meant to balance out the rest of the proprietary emblems on that school. Back when the school was being built, we already noticed that the façade was all covered with letter Gs. G stood for Gatlabayan, the former mayor and now member of the House of Representatives. The building was designed like most other school buildings—with a hallway connecting the classrooms. In some schools, the other side of the hallway was a solid wall. In the case of this particular school, there was an open veranda-like structure and every section, each as wide as a classroom, had a letter G that was very much noticeable from the road.

Right, a letter G as wide as a classroom. Or was it two Gs for the width of every classroom? In any case, driving along the street where the school is located, you wouldn’t miss the Gs. In fact, the Gs would still be noticeable from a distance. They were THAT large. As though that weren’t enough, on one side of the building with a solid wall, presumably where the staircase is located, there was a bold announcement that the school was, a project of (then) Mayor Angelito Gatlabayan.

I am sure that such a sight has become so ordinary around the country that people don’t even ask anymore why they are there. Every incumbent scatters his identity all over the area where he lords it over to the point that even government-owned vehicles, including ambulances, bear the name of the incumbent mayor and/or governor.

And, as if taking the cue from the highest official of the locality, it is a practice observed even on the barangay level. Street-lighting projects, the construction of deep wells and even the asphalting of roads are accompanied by billboards or tarpaulins on the background with the name of the congressman, the mayor and the barangay captain. If the project is on a provincial or national level, the names and photos of the governor and the President of the Philippines would be there too.

In the case of former Mayor Gatlabayan, well, the plant boxes that line the major thoroughfares of the city have his initials as well. In fact, since it is almost May and a lot of people will be traveling to Antipolo for the annual pilgrimage, I invite you to walk along M.L. Quezon Avenue at the center of the town and notice the tiles used on the sidewalks. They have Gatlabayan’s initials too. No kidding. If that’s not screwed enough, every waiting shed bears the letter Y—Y for Ynares, the surname of the governor of Rizal where Antipolo is located.

Meanwhile, on the street where we live, there are no light posts. When Manila Water was laying out its pipes, you would have fallen into the diggings at night if you didn’t know where they were. We’ve been here for almost seven years, throughout the second and third terms of former Mayor Gatlabayan and now the first term of returning Mayor Vic Sumulong, and still nada. The owners of Loreland Resort farther down the road had light posts installed spanning several meters of the road a few years ago and they paid out of their own pockets. Of course, they couldn’t keep it up. Lighting the street is not their responsibility, is it? Goodness, and Antipolo is supposed to be a resort town. Where’s the support of the local government, eh? Let’s see Superman do something about that. I should mention that the mayor lives one street away and that street is peppered with light posts.

I used to think that there were shining exceptions to the crappy politico mentality. I used to think that Bayani Fernando was one of them. I used to believe in him so much, as a man with a true vision and a man of principle, that had he run for public office in 2004, I would have gone out and voted. More than that, I would have campaigned for him actively without pay and without expecting favors if he had won.

But today I look at his face on oversized tarpaulins all over Metro Manila and I can only shake my head. He might have accomplished so much as mayor of Marikina but he is no exception when it comes to the practice of treating public projects as personal projects over which he has proprietary rights.

The attitude is maddening—this mentality as though they own the cities and the municipalities and the provinces so that every street and every public building should pay homage to them and we should all bear witness to their greatness. They forget that they are merely there in representation of their constituents and if anyone deserves glory for all those projects, it is the people who pay for them. Government for, of and by the people, after all, is the benchmark of a democratic country.

If you think there’s nothing wrong with such practice, if you think it is natural and within the rights of every government official, then you’re hopeless. And if the rest of the population thinks the way you do, then this country has a very dim future indeed.