The Rise And Fall Of Imelda Marcos

She was back in her home country once again to pay homage to the death anniversary of her husband, Ferdinand Marcos, the hated dictator who declared a state of martial law for two decades before the whole corrupt regime crumbled in the face of people power.

Thousands of pairs of shoes , a golden bath and a golden tap. An endless parade of riches and jewelleries. Billions of dollars pilfered, meant as foreign aid for her poor countrymen. A woman who rose from poverty to become the First Lady who ruled with an iron hand. A woman loved and hated.

When I read her biography, I was moved to tears by her humble and impoverished past. From aristocracy to poverty, she lived out her childhood in squalid conditions. A family torn apart by bickering parents and an acrimonious separation. A mother dead when she was no younger than 12 years old.

Snubbed by her richer relatives living in the city, she left the village seeking her fortunes. She ran into her future husband-to-be, a senator who aspired to the highest office in the country. She crawled on hands and knees to get to little known campaign municipalities. With dogged determination and unflappable spirit, she saw to it that Ferdinand became president. And he did.

To keep up her appearances of aristocratic heritage, she renounced her poor past, turning away from the people who nurtured and kept her alive in her indigent days. Which included a nanny who sacrificed much for her sake. This was the water-shed. Her sudden new found wealth and fame screwed her into indulging in heinous crimes, lavish lifestyles and grandious haughtiness.

It was also the beginning of their eventual downfall. A country wasted away by frivolous and careless fritters, mismanagement and total abandonment. Fuelled by the high life and revelries. The peasants paying with their sweat and blood the interminable and elaborate banquets and feasts.

How can someone who should have been imbued with a better sense of herself, learning from her sordid past, turned into a Frankenstein monster that only Mary Shelley can rave and rant about in her novel?

Imelda you have moved me to tears but you have also made me ashamed of you. This can only be the dualism and the psychological denial we all live in in today's world. A world of the rich and famous, oblivious to the outside world.

Give me the free and natural economy anytime and I will show you my two-pence worth of soda.