සිවුමංසල කොලූගැටයා #97: ‘ආසියාවේ ටයිටැනික්’ ඛේදවාචකයට වසර 25යි

This week’s Ravaya column (in Sinhala) is dedicated to the memory of the world’s worst peace-time maritime disaster in terms of lives lost.

No, it wasn’t the sinking of the Titanic. It’s a disaster that happened 75 later, on the other side of the planet – in Asia.

It is the sinking of the MV Doña Paz, off the coast of Dumali Point, Mindoro, in the Philippines on 20 December 1987. That night, the 2,215-ton passenger ferry sailed into infamy with a loss of over 4,000 lives – many of them burnt alive in an inferno at sea.

Nobody is certain exactly how many lives were lost — because many of them were not supposed to be on that overcrowded passenger ferry, sailing in clear tropical weather on an overnight journey.

For an English version of this info, see: Remembering Asia’s Titanic: The Doña Paz tragedy that killed over 4,000 in Dec 1987

Dona Paz tragedy - image from the survivor website

ටයිටැනික්! ගිලෙන්නට බැරි යයි එහි නිපැයුම්කරුවන් කියූ. එහෙත් මංගල චාරිකාවේදී ම පාවෙන මහ අයිස් කුට්ටියක ගැටී ගිලී ගිය සුඛෝපභෝගී මගී නෞකාව ගැන අප දන්නවා. මුළු ලෝකය ම කම්පා කළ ඒ ඛේදවාචකය සිදු වී සියවසක් පිරුණේ මේ වසරේ.

1912 අපේ‍්‍රල් 14/15 රාත‍්‍රියේ අනතුරට ලක් වන විට ටයිටැනික් නැවේ මඟීන් හා කාර්ය මණ්ඩලය 2,224ක් සිටියා. එහෙත් ජීවිතාරක්ෂක බෝට්ටු තිබුණේ එයින් අඩකට පමණයි. ඒ නිසාත්, ගිලෙන නැවේ ආපදා රේඩියෝ සංඥ අවට ගමන් කරමින් සිටි වෙනත් නැව් හරිහැටි ග‍්‍රහණය කර නොගත් නිසාත් ජීවිත 1,514ක් විනාශ වුණා.

මේ අනතුරෙන් පසු මගී ප‍්‍රවාහනය කරන සියලූ ම නෞකා හා බෝට්ටු සඳහා ජීවිතාරක්ෂක උපක‍්‍රම රැසක් හඳුන්වා දෙනු ලැබුවා. ලොව කොතැනක කුමන ආකාරයේ නැවක් වුවත් මේ ආරක්ෂිත පියවර ගනිමින් සේවක මණ්ඩලයේ හා මගීන්ගේ ආරක්ෂාව තහවුරු කළ යුතුයි. බොහෝ රටවල මේ සඳහා දේශීය නීති හා රෙගුලාසි තිබෙනවා. එමෙන්ම ජාත්‍යන්තර නාවුක නීති යටතේ ද පැහැදිලි නිර්දේශ හා දණ්ඩන තිබෙනවා. ඒ සියල්ල තිබියදීත් දියුණු වෙමින් පවතින රටවල කලින් කලට මහ මුහුදේ නාවුක අනතුරු ඇති වෙනවා.

ටයිටැනික් අනතුරටත් වඩා බිහිසුණු හා එමෙන් දෙගුණයකටත් වඩා ජීවිත හානි කළ, ඉතිහාසයේ මහා ම නෞකා අනතුර සිදු වී මේ මාසයට වසර 25ක් පිරෙනවා. ‘ආසියාවේ ටයිටැනික්’ ලෙස හඳුන්වන මේ අනතුර ගැන බහුතරයක් ආසියානුවන් පවා දන්නේ නැහැ. එයට හේතුවක් නම් ජාත්‍යන්තර මාධ්‍ය හා ජනප‍්‍රිය සංස්කෘතිය හරහා මේ අනතුර මහා ප‍්‍රවෘත්තියක් බවට පත් නොවීම.

මේ අනතුර සිදු වූයේ 1987 දෙසැම්බර් 20 වනදා පිලිපීනයේ. දුපත් 7,000කට අධික සංඛ්‍යාවක් ඇති කොදෙව් පෙළකින් සමන්විත පිලිපීනයේ ප‍්‍රධාන පෙළේ මගී ප‍්‍රවාහන ක‍්‍රමය වන්නේ දුපත් අතර ධාවනය වන මගී නෞකායි. මේවා හරියට අපේ දුර ධාවන බස් සේවා වගෙයි. නියමිත කාල සටහනට ගමන් කරන, මූලික පහසුකම් පමණක් ඇති මෙබඳු මගී නෞකා ඉංග‍්‍රීසියෙන් Passenger Ferries ලෙස හඳුන්වනවා. එරට විශාලත්වය නිසා සමහර විට දිනක් දෙකක් ගත වන නැව් ගමන් තිබෙනවා.

සියයට 90ක් කතෝලික ජනගහණයක් සිටින පිලිපීනයේ ලොකු ම උත්සවය නත්තලයි. 1987 නත්තලට දින පහකට පෙර ලෙයිට් (Leyte) දුපතේ සිට මැනිලා අගනුවරට එන්නට සිය ගණනක් සාමාන්‍ය පිලිපීනුවෝ දොඤ්ඤ පාස් (Doña Paz, DP) නම් ටොන් 2,215ක් බර මගී නැවට ගොඩ වුණා. හෙමින් යන මේ ගමනට පැය 24ක් ගත වනවා.

ළඟ එන නත්තල නිසා නැවේ ධාරිතාවට වඩා වැඩි ඉල්ලූමක් තිබුණා. අපේ බස් වගේ ම මේ රටේ නැව්වලත් දරා ගත හැකි සංඛ්‍යාවට වඩා මගීන් නංවා ගන්නවා. පවතින ආරක්ෂණ නීති බිඳ හෙළමින්, ටිකට් නොමැතිව අත යට මුදලට සිය ගණනක් මගීන් DP නැවට නංවා ගනු ලැබුවා. නිල මගී ලැයිස්තුවේ සිටියේ මගීන් 1,493ක් හා කාර්ය මණ්ඩලය 59ක් පමණයි. එහෙත් එදින නැව තුළ 4,000ක් පමණ සිටින්නට ඇතැයි අනුමාන කැරෙනවා. එයින් දහසක් පමණ ළාබාල දරුවන්.

MV Doña Paz in 1984, three years before its tragic end - Photo courtesy Wikimedia Commons - lindsaybridge

පැය විසි හතරේ ගමන රැය තිස්සේ දිවෙන නිසා නැවේ මගීන් හැකි පමණින් රැය පහන් කරන්නට සූදානම් වුණා. මුහුද තරමක් රළු වූවත් කාලගුණය යහපත්ව තිබුණා. නැව මද වේගයෙන් ගමන් කරමින් සිටියා.

රාත‍්‍රී 10.30ට පමණ කිසිදු අනතුරු ඇඟවීමකින් තොරව එක් වර ම මේ මගී නෞකාව තවත් නැවක හැපුණා. විවෘත මුහුදේ නැව් දෙකක් ගැටීමට ඇති ඉඩ ඉතා අඩුයි. තම ගමන් මඟ ගැන නැවියන් අවට නැව්වලට රේඩියෝ මඟින් නිතිපතා දැනුවත් කළ යුතුයි.

DP නැවේ මහා අවාසනාවට එය ගැටුනේ MT Vector වෙක්ටර් නමැති තෙල් ප‍්‍රවාහනය කරන නැවක. එය කැල්ටෙක්ස් පිලිපීන සමාගමට අයත් පෙට‍්‍රල්, ඞීසල් හා භූමිතෙල් බැරල් 8,800ක් රැගෙන බටාන් සිට මස්බාතේ දක්වා යමින් සිටියා.

නැව් දෙක ගැටීමත් සමඟ ම වෙක්ටර් නැවේ තෙල් තොගයට ගිනි ඇවිළුණා. විනාඩි කිහිපයක් ඇතුළත ගින්න මගී නෞකාවටත් පැතිරුණා. ගැටුමෙන්, පිපිරීමෙන් හා ගින්නෙන් වික්ෂිප්ත වූ මගීන් මේ අත දුවන්නට ගත්තා.

මර බියෙන් ඇතැමුන් මුහුදට පැන්නත් ඔවුන්ට අත් වූයේ බියකරු ඉරණමක්. ඒ වන විට තෙල් කාන්දු වී මුහුද මත ඉසිරී ගොස් ගින්න ඒ මතුපිට ද පැතිර තිබුණා. මේ නිසා මුහුදත් ගිනි ජාලාවක්. මුහුදට පැන්න අයට දිගින් දිගට ම කිමිදෙමින් සිටිනු හැර හුස්මක් ගන්නටවත් මතුපිටට එන්නට නොහැකි වුණා.

ඉතා අවාසනාවන්ත ලෙසින් නැවේ සිටි අය හා නැවෙන් මුහුදට පැන්න බොහෝ දෙනා පිලිස්සී හෝ ගිලී මිය ගියා. හාර දහසකට අධික යැයි අනුමාන කෙරෙන මගී සංඛ්‍යාවෙන් අමාරුවෙන් පණ බේරා ගත්තේ 26 දෙනෙතු පමණයි. මේ මහා ඛේදවාචකය ගැන අප දන්නා සියල්ලට පදනම ඒ අයගේ සාක්ෂියි.

මේ අනතුර සිදු වන විට DP මගී නැව ගමන් කරමින් සිටියේ මින්දෝරා හා පනායි දුපත් දෙක අතර පිහිටි ටබ්ලාසි සමුද්‍ර සන්ධියේ. ඒ ප‍්‍රදේශයේ මුහුදේ ගැඹුර මීටර් 545ක් (අඩි 1,790) පමණ වනවා. ගැටුමෙන් පැය දෙකකට පමණ පසු DP නැවත් පැය හතරකට පසුව වෙක්ටර් තෙල් නැවත් මුළුමනින් මුහුදේ ගිලී ගියා.

දිවි ගලවා ගත් ටික දෙනා බේරා ගනු ලැබුවේ ගැටුම සිදු වී පැය එක හමාරකට පමණ පසු එතැනට අහම්බෙන් ආ තවත් නැවක් මගින්. ගිනිගත් මහ මුහුදේ දැවී ගිය මළ සිරුරු අතර මහත් ආයාසයෙන් පිහිනමින් සිටි ටික දෙනා මේ නැව විසින් බේරා ගත්තා. වෙරළාරක්ෂක සේනාව (Coastguard) මේ අනතුර ගැන දැන ගන්නා විට පසුවදාට එළි වී තිබුණා. ඒ වන විට සියල්ල සිදු වී හමාරයි!

නත්තලට අභිමුඛව සිදු වු මේ මහා අනතුරෙන් සමස්ත පිලිපීනය කම්පා වී ගියත් ඛේදවාචකයේ තවත් අදියර ගණනක් ඉතිරි වී තිබුණා. ඒවා දිග හැරුණේ අනතුර ගැන රාජ්‍ය පරීක්ෂණයක් හා අධිකරණ නඩු විභාගයක් ඇරඹුණු පසුවයි.

DP නැවේ අයිතිකරු සුල්පිචියෝ ලයින්ස් නැව් සමාගම තරයේ කියා සිටියේ නිල මගී ලේඛනයේ සිටි 1,493 දෙනා හැරෙන්නට කිසිවෙකු අනතුර අවස්ථාවේ ඒ නැවේ සිටි බවට “සාක්ෂි” නැති බවයි. එසේ ම නැව අධික ලෙස මගීන් පටවා ගත් බවට කෙරෙන ප‍්‍රකාශ ඔවුන් ප‍්‍රතික්ෂේප කළා. (බොහෝ මගීන් මුළුමනින් ම දැවී අළු වී ගිය නිසා අනතුර සිදු වූ අවට මුහුදෙන් සොයා ගත හැකි වූයේ මළසිරුරු 108ක් පමණයි. තවත් මළ සිරුරු ගණනාවක් අවට දුපත්වල වෙරළට ගසා ගෙන ගොස් හමු වුණා. බහුතරයක් මගීන් කිසිදු හෝඩුවාවක් ඉතිරි නොකර අතුරුදහන් වූවා.)

DP නැවේ සමස්ත කාර්ය මණ්ඩලය ම අනතුරෙන් මිය ගියා. මේ පසුබිම තුළ ඇත්තට ම සිදු වූයේ කුමක් ද යන්න ගැන නැව් සමාගම් දෙකේත්, පණ බේරා ගත් අයගේත් නීතිඥයන් වසර ගණනාවක් තිස්සේ තර්ක විතර්ක කළා.

අනතුර සිදු වන විට නැව් දෙක ම මඳ වේගයෙන් ගමන් කරමින් සිටි බවත්, කාලගුණය යහපත් වූ නිසා දුර පෙනීම හොඳින් තිබූ බවත් තහවුරු වුණා. වෙනත් නැව් හෝ බෝට්ටු නොතිබූ විවෘත මුහුදේ මෙතරම් ඉඩ තිබිය දී මේ නැව් දෙක ගැටුණේ නැවියන්ගේ දැඩි නොසැලකිල්ල නිසා බවට දිවි ගලවා ගත්තවුන්ගේ නීතිඥයන් අවධාරණය කළා.

එසේ ම තම ගමන් මාර්ගය ගැන හැම නැවක් ම ඪ්‍යත්‍ රේඩියෝ මඟින් අවට නැව්වලට දැනුම් දිය යුතුයි. DP නැවේ රේඩියෝ බලපත‍්‍රය හොර එකක් බවත්, වෙක්ටර් නැවේ රේඩියෝ බලපත‍්‍රය කල් ඉක්ම වූ එකක් බවත් හෙළි වුණා. අයථා මාර්ගයෙන් අනුමැතිය ලබා ගෙන ක‍්‍රියාත්මක වූ මේ නැව් දෙකේ හරිහැටි රේඩියෝ භාවිතයක් තිබී නැහැ.

අනතුර සිදු වූ සැන්දෑවේ DP නැවේ කාර්ය මණ්ඩලය සාදයක් පවත්වමින් සිටි බවට දිවි ගලවා ගත්තවුන් කියා සිටියා. මේ නිසා නැවේ සුක්කානම හැසිරවීම අත්දැකීම් අඩු කනිෂ්ඨ නාවුකයකුට පවරන්නට ඇත්දැයි සැකයක් මතු වුණා. එහෙත් එය තහවුරු කර ගන්නට කිසිවකු ඉතිරිව සිටියේ නැහැ.

වසර ගණනක් ගත වූ අධිකරණ විභාගයේ අවසන් නිගමනය වූයේ මේ අනතුරට සාධක ගණනාවක් හේතු වූ බවයි. දුෂණය හා වංචාව හරහා නීතිය හරිහැටි ක‍්‍රියාත්මක නොවීම, අඩු පුහුණුවක් ලද නැවියන් අධික ලෙස වෙහෙසී සිටීම, දුරස්ථ සන්නිවේදනය නොකිරීම හා අනතුරින් පසු උදව්වට පැමිණීමේ බරපතළ ප‍්‍රමාදයන් නිසා ජීවිත හානිය ඉතා වැඩි වූවා.

මියගිය අයගේ පවුල්වලට හා දිවි ගලවා ගත් අයට වන්දි ගෙවීම වසර 25ක් ගතවීත් තවම හරිහැටි සිදු වී නැහැ. නැව් හිමිකාර සමාගම් මෙන් ම තෙල් හිමි කැල්ටෙක්ස් සමාගමටත් එරෙහිව පිලිපීනයේත්, අමෙරිකාවේත් නඩු පවරනු ලැබුවා. එහෙත් නීතිඥ තර්ක විතර්කවලට ලක් වෙමින් මෙය තවමත් දික් ගැස්සෙනවා.

Asia's Titanic - NatGeo poster for 2009 film

2009දී මේ අනතුර ගැන http://natgeotv.com/asia/asias-titanic නම් ගවේෂණාත්මක වාර්තා චිත‍්‍රපටයක් නැෂනල් ජියෝග‍්‍රැෆික් නාලිකාව සඳහා නිපදවනු ලැබුවා. පිලිපීන ජාතික යෑම් ලරානාස් (Yam Laranas) අධ්‍යක්ෂණය කළ මේ චිත‍්‍රපටය් තොරතුරු ගවේෂණය හා සහාය නිෂ්පාදනය කළේ මගේ පිලිපීන මිතුරියක් වන බේබි රූත් විලරාමා (Baby Ruth Villarama).

ඇය මාස ගණනක් පුරා ඇය දිවි ගලවා ටික දෙනා මෙන් ම මියගිය අයගේ පවුල්වල ඥතීන් හමුවෙමින් සංවේදී ලෙසින් කථාබහ කරමින් තොරතුරු රැස් කළා. එය තම වෘත්තීය ජීවිතයේ ඉතා දුක්මුසු හා අභියෝගාත්මක අත්දැකීමක් බව ඇය කියනවා.

‘‘දශක දෙකකට වැඩි කාලයක් ගතවීත් මේ අයට ප‍්‍රීතිමත් නත්තලක් නම් යළි උදාවන්නේ නැහැ. හැම නත්තල් සමයක ම ඔවුන්ට ඒ අනතුරේ මතකයන් අළුත් වනවා. අනතුරෙන් පසු සිදු වූ අසාධාරණකම් හා එයින් මතු වූ අසරණකම ගැන ඔවුන් යළි යළිත් කම්පා වනවා,’’ ඇය කියනවා.

වාර්තා චිත‍්‍රපටය නිම කරන්නට වසර 3ක් ගත වුණා. එහි සියලූ කරුණු යළි යළිත් තහවුරු කරන්නට නිෂ්පාදන කණ්ඩායමට සිදු වුණේ නැව් හා තෙල් සමාගම්වල නීතිඥයන් මේ වාර්තාකරණය දැඩි විමසිල්ලෙන් බලා සිටි නිසයි.

‘‘වාර්තා චිත‍්‍රපටයක් සඳහා මොවුන්ගේ දුක හා කම්පනය රූගත කළ යුතු ද යන සදාචාරමය ප‍්‍රශ්නයට අප මුහුණ දුන්නා. එහෙත් මේ ආසියාවේ ටයිටැනික් ඛේදවාචකය ගැන හරි කථාව ලෝකයට කියන්නටත්, විපතට පත් වූවන්ට හා පවුල්වලට කවදා හෝ සාධාරණයක් ඉටු කිරීමට ගෙන යන අරගලයට දායක වන්නටත් අපට මහත් සේ ඕනෑ වුණා,’’ යැයි බේබි රූත් කියනවා.

ඇගේ අවසන් තක්සේරුව: ‘‘ටයිටැනික් නැවේ මඟීන් බහුතරයක් ධනවත් හා බලවත් උදවිය. එහෙත් දොඤ්ඤ පාස් නැවේ ගිය සියලූ දෙනා ම දුප්පත් අසරණ මිනිසුන්, ගැහැනුන් හා ළමයින්. ඔවුන් ගැන අපේ රටේ මාධ්‍ය හා බලධාරීන් පවා එතරම් උනන්දුවක් නැහැ. මේ ඓතිහාසික විසමතාව යම් තරමකට හෝ සමතුලිත කරන්නට Asia’s Titanic චිත‍්‍රපටය උපකාර වනු ඇතැයි අප පතනවා.’’

Watch the NatGeo film in full on Doña Paz survivors’ website

Baby Ruth Villarama on researching and filming “Asia’s Titanic” for National Geographic

Asia's Titanic - NatGeo poster for 2009 film

How and where do you begin to tell the story of the biggest peace-time disaster at sea in modern times — where only 24 people survived and more than 4,000 perished within an hour or two?

That was the challenge that my Filipino filmmaker friend Baby Ruth Villarama and her colleagues faced, when they made an hour-long documentary, Asia’s Titanic, which National Geographic TV broadcast in mid 2009.

They came together to tell the world an under-reported and relatively less known story from their country: the tragic mid-sea accident that sank MV Dona Paz on the night of 20 December 1987.

Former television journalist and now an independent TV producer, Baby Ruth Villarama specialises in story research and documentary producing. Runs her own production company, Voyage Film, based in Manila but active across Asia.

Ruth was the researcher and assistant producer of Asia’s Titanic, directed by award-winning Filipino director Yam Laranas.

A few days ago, I asked Ruth for her own memories and reflections. This is what she shared with me, in her own words — the moving story behind the moving images creation:

With the Doña Paz story, sharing their memories was the most difficult part of covering it as the tragedy is something they’d rather not talk about – and, if possible, forget.

I spent a year ‘off-the-record’ understanding the holes in their memories. I felt I had to retrace the steps of these 4,000 souls and learn the relationship of man and the sea.

They’ve lost their children, parents and comrades on Christmas eve over a sea mishap – drowning and burning in the quiet water. We can only imagine the pain they went through.

The tragedy is the peak of memory they have left of their loved ones too, so every Christmas, some relatives of the dead gather together to live the lives their loved ones would have wanted to continue.

I joined that gathering for about three Christmases in between my research efforts. It was then that I began to understand the rabbit holes in each one of them — and the rabbit hole I had in me for not knowing my mother personally.

We started sharing pains and the “what-could-have-beens” of those lost memories. That was the connection they were looking for: to be able to speak of the pain to a stranger, or worst, to a group of filmmakers who would broadcast their story to millions of households around the globe.

This documentary was initiated not just to tell their story but to attempt to fill a hole of justice to the many casualties and their families.

It was through them that we were able to speak to the remaining living survivors. We became part of that annual gathering. Despite the requirements of the studio and my director to deliver deadlines, we tried my best to balance their readiness to speak. Good thing NatGeo was willing to wait 3 – 5 years in the timeline…

I remember visiting a survivor in his sleepy town in the province of Samar sometime in 2005. He owns a small sari-sari (convenient) store then. He said that it took him a year to speak again after the tragedy — and another year before he could eat properly because he couldn’t swallow soups and liquids right.

He never really set foot outside his island again – always fearing for fire and water, including the air as he vividly remembers how it added fume to the fire on that fateful night at sea.

After a while, he started talking about the details of that trip. He stopped, wept and couldn’t carry on anymore. He couldn’t breathe and seemingly battled against the air.

A huge part of me personally felt wrong seeing him again but I know that if we do not tell this story, no one will — and the world will just forget about this huge ‘mistake’ in navigational history.

I’d like to think that the impact of the story outside the Philippines is to remind the world fact that Titanic is not the worst maritime disaster — that somewhere in South East Asia, there was a small ship that killed more than 4,000 lives. It created maritime talks in international forums and the fact that accidents in this magnitude didn’t occur anymore — I think people are more careful now.

It’s a shame that Doña Paz was not as celebrated as the Titanic. One big difference between the Titanic and Doña Paz, aside from its route and technical specifications, is the status of passengers.

The Titanic carried a large number of wealthy westerners. Those who boarded the Doña Paz were mostly average Filipinos — no names, no status in society, even in their own country.


Related post: Remembering Asia’s Titanic: The Doña Paz tragedy that killed over 4,000 in Dec 1987

Remembering Asia’s Titanic: The Doña Paz tragedy that killed over 4,000 in Dec 1987

Dona Paz tragedy - image from the survivor website


What is the world’s worst peace-time maritime disaster?

No, it’s not the sinking of the Titanic. It’s a disaster that happened 75 later, on the other side of the planet – in Asia.

It is the sinking of the MV Doña Paz, off the coast of Dumali Point, Mindoro, in the Philippines on 20 December 1987. That night, the 2,215-ton passenger ferry sailed into infamy with a loss of over 4,000 lives – many of them burnt alive in an inferno at sea.

Nobody is certain exactly how many lives were lost — because many of them were not supposed to be on that overcrowded passenger ferry, sailing in clear tropical weather on an overnight journey.

Passenger ferries like the Doña Paz are widely used in the Philippines, an archipelago in Southeast Asia comprising over 7,000 islands. They are among the cheapest and most popular ways to travel.

Just 5 days before Christmas of 1987, hundreds of ordinary people boarded the Doña Paz for a 24-hour voyage from the Leyte island to Manila, the capital.

The Doña Paz – originally built and used in Japan in 1963 and bought by a Filipino ferry company in 1975 — was authorized to carry a maximum load of 1,518 passengers.

But the on the night of the accident, survivors say there may have been more than 4,000 people on board – a gross violation of safety procedures.

Only 24 of them survived the journey — and only just. The entire crew and most of its passengers perished in an accident happened due to negligence, recklessness and callous disregard for safety.

For a glimpse of what happened, watch these first few minutes from 2009 National Geographic documentary,Asia’s Titanic:

For a summary compiled from several journalistic and activist sources, read on…

The Doña Paz had an official passenger list of 1,493 with a crew of 59 on board. But later media investigations showed that the list did not include as many as 1,000 children below the age of four — and many passengers who paid their fare after boarding.

The ship was going at a steady pace. The passengers were settling in for the night. The Doña Paz was scheduled to arrive in Manila by morning. A survivor later said that the weather that night was clear, but the sea was choppy.

Around 10.30 pm local time, without any warning, the Doña Paz collided with another vessel. It was no ordinary ship: the MT Vector was en route from Bataan to Masbate, carrying 8,800 barrels of gasoline, diesel and kerosene owned by Caltex Philippines.

Immediately upon collision, the tanker’s cargo ignited, setting off a massive fire that soon engulfed both ships. Thousands of passengers were trapped inside the burning ferry.

Dozens of passengers leaped into the sea without realizing that the petroleum products had also set the surrounding seas ablaze. Those in the water had to keep diving to avoid the flames spreading on the surface.

Of all the passengers and crew on board, only 24 survived. Everything known about this maritime disaster is based largely on their accounts – and investigative work done by a handful of journalists.

MV Doña Paz in 1984, three years before its tragic end - Photo courtesy Wikimedia Commons - lindsaybridge

One survivor claimed that the lights onboard went out soon after the collision: there had been no life vests on the Doña Paz, and that none of the crew was giving any orders. It was later said that the life jackets were locked up beyond emergency reach.

The few survivors were later rescued swimming among many charred bodies in the shark-infested Tablas Strait that separates Mindoro and Panay islands.

The first help arrived at the scene around one and a half hours after the collision – it was another passing ship. By this time, most passengers of the ferry were dead.

The Doña Paz sank within two hours of the collision, while the Vector sank in four hours. The sea is about 545 meters deep in the collision site.

The Philippines Coast Guard did not learn about the disaster until eight hours after it happened. An official search and rescue mission took more hours to get started.

In the days that followed, the full scale of the horrible tragedy became clear. The ferry’s owner company, Sulpicio Lines, argued that the ferry was not overcrowded. It also refused to acknowledge anyone other than those officially listed on its passenger manifest.

Manifests on Philippine inter-island vessels are notoriously inaccurate. They often record children as “half-passengers” or disregard them entirely. Corrupt officials frequently accept bribes to allow overloading.

Many victims were probably incinerated when the vessels exploded and will never be accounted for. Rescuers found only 108 bodies, many of them charred and mutilated beyond recognition. More bodies were later washed ashore to nearby islands where the local people buried them after religious rituals.

All officers on board the Doña Paz were killed in the disaster, and the two from the Vector who survived had both been asleep at the time. This left the field entirely to lawyers from all sides to endlessly argue over what went wrong, how – and who was responsible.

It was later found that, at the time of the collision, both ships had been moving slowly: the Doña Paz at 26 km per hour, and Vector at 8 km per hour. They were surrounded by 37 square km of wide open sea – plenty of time and space to avoid crashing into each other!

Experts also wondered why the two ships had not communicated with each other before the crash. It is internationally required that all ships carry VHF radio. The Vector was found to have an expired radio license. The radio license for the Doña Paz was a fake.

Survivors told investigators that the crew of the Doña Paz were having a party on board minutes before it collided with the oil tanker. Some reports suggested that the captain himself had been among the revelers.

Being ordinary people, the passenger didn’t know details of maritime rank or procedure. It is likely that a mate or apprentice was steering the Doña Paz. Not a single crew member survived to tell their version of the incident.

After a long and contentious inquiry, the investigators placed the blame on the Vector.

Independent analyses have identified multiple factors that contributed to this tragedy: lack of law enforcement arising from corruption and connivance; under-qualified and overworked crew; telecommunications failures; and inadequate search and rescue efforts in the event of accidents.

Asia's Titanic - NatGeo poster for 2009 film

In August 2009, National Geographic Channel broadcast an investigative documentary titled Asia’s Titanic that tried to piece together the evidence and understand what happened.

Directed by award-winning Filipino director Yam Laranas, it was the first for any Filipino filmmaker to direct a full-length documentary for the global channel noted for its factual films.

Through dramatic first hand accounts from survivors and rescuers, transcripts from the Philippine congressional inquiry into the tragedy, archival footage and photos and a re-enactment of the collision, dissect the unfolding tragedy of Doña Paz.

The 10-million Filipino peso project took more than 3 years to make, but even its makers could not find all the answers.

“The truth may never be known. In the years after the Doña Paz tragedy, shipping disasters continue to plague the Philippines,” says the documentary as it ends.

Watch the NatGeo film in full on Doña Paz survivors’ website

Meanwhile, nearly 25 years on, the struggle for justice for the victims and survivors is still on.

Related post: Baby Ruth Villarama on researching and filming “Asia’s Titanic” for National Geographic

Imelda Abano: Asia’s Development Journalist of the Year 2009

Imelda Abano receives her award in Tokyo, Oct 23

Imelda Abano receives her award in Tokyo, Oct 23

I was delighted to hear the news that Filipino science and environmental journalist Imelda Abano has just won the Developing Asia Journalism Awards (DAJA) for 2009.

“We are all winners,” said Imelda at the Awards ceremony organized by the Asian Development Bank Institute (ADBI) at the Foreign Correspondents’ Club of Japan. “We should continue writing compelling stories to make a difference.”

Imelda Abano, whom I have known and admired for several years, won one of two special awards for her story titled “Scorched Earth”, published on 19 May 2009, in the Business Mirror newspaper in the Philippines.

“Among all the articles, the judges were very impressed with the way Abaño’s article presented the
complex issues on climate change. It was a comprehensive and extra-ordinary piece that was made simple for the readers to understand,” said Monzurul Huq, one of the four judges and the president of the Foreign Correspondents’ Club of Japan.

“We judges were each very impressed by the overall high quality of entries for this year. The awards were meant to recognize the efforts made by Asian and Pacific journalists who provide high-quality coverage of issues affecting growth and development in developing countries,” said Anthony Rowley, presiding judge of the 2009 ADBI awards.

Imelda Abano was honored last year by the United Nations as the Gold Prize Winner for excellence in reporting on humanitarian and development affairs. She was also this year’s recipient of the 10 Young Leaders Award in the Philippines given out by the Philippines Graphic magazine for her reporting on development and environmental issues. In 2002, she won the Asian category of the Global Awards on Environmental Reporting organized by Reuters and IUCN.

The Developing Asia Journalism Awards (DAJA) scheme was launched in 2004 by the Asian Development Bank Institute in Tokyo, for journalists covering development issues in the Asia Pacific. It received around 200 entries this year, of which 22 journalists from 17 ADB developing nations were selected as finalists.

Supriya Khandekar from India won Young Development Journalist of the Year Award. Other winners are Sithav An from Cambodia for the Poverty Impact of the Global Financial Crisis category, Raknish Wijewardene from Sri Lanka for the Government Responses to the Global Financial Crisis category, Zhu Yan from China for the Infrastructure Development category and Moffat Ghala Mamu from the Solomon Islands for the Climate Change Adaptation category. Full list of winners

DAJA 2009 winners

DAJA 2009 winners

Rising from the Ashes: The Ayta’s struggle to preserve their heritage

Rising from the Ashes, teh Ayta struggle to keep their traditions alive

Rising from the Ashes, the Ayta struggle to keep their traditions alive

This weekend, Tropical Storm Ketsana triggered the worst flooding in decades in the Philippine capital Manila and nearby provinces.

The Philippines, an archipelago nation comprising some 7,000 islands, is one of the world’s most disaster-prone countries. It leads a World Bank list of nations most in danger of facing frequent and more intense storms because of climate change. In 2008, it was one of three countries that experienced the most disasters, according to the Brussels-based Centre for Research on the Epidemiology of Disasters.

Apart from the typhoons that blow in from the Pacific Ocean, the Philippines also sits on the Pacific Rim of Fire where periodic earthquakes occur, and active volcanoes are found.

Disasters not only kill or injure people and cause property damage; they also disrupt livelihoods and cultural practices. That’s what happened when the volcanic Mount Pinatubo erupted in 1991, its lava and ashes destroyed many surrounding villages – including the traditional homeland of the Ayta, indigenous people descending from the first inhabitants of the Philippines. They had fled to the hills from the lowlands during the protracted Spanish conquest of the Philippines which first commenced in 1565.

Today, resettled elsewhere on Luzon island, the Ayta are trying to preserve their traditional culture and community integrity through education and theatre. These efforts are supported by the Ayta organisation PBAZ, part of the Education for Life Foundation. Going back to the abandoned village is one way of keeping memories alive.

This is the story of Rising from the Ashes, one film in Saving the Planet, TVE Asia Pacific’s new regional TV series showcasing Asian communities thinking globally and acting locally.

RSF: Who will protect journalists fighting for a better planet?

RSF: We must defend journalists who fight for the planet

RSF: We must defend journalists who fight for the planet

In November 2007, I wrote a blog post calling for greater protection for local journalists who cover social and environmental justice issues risking their life and limbs.

I quoted the Filipino academic and social activist Professor Walden Bello, as saying: “Things are pretty savage at the grassroots level in some of our countries. Journalists who investigate and uncover the truth take enormous personal risks – the vested interests hire killers to eliminate such journalists.”

Bello, executive director of the Focus on the Global South, further said: “Journalists living in the provinces and reporting from the grassroots are more vulnerable than those based in the cities. This is precisely why local journalists need greater support and protection to continue their good work.”

Last week, Reporters Without Borders echoed this call, saying: “We must defend journalists who expose attacks on the environment”.

The press freedom activist group released a new report titled “The dangers for journalists who expose environmental issues.” It highlights the indifference – and even complicity – of some governments and local authorities that make little attempt to protect journalists who take risks to investigate attacks on the environment.

The report looks at 13 cases of journalists and bloggers who have been killed, physically attacked, jailed, threatened or censored for reporting on the environment, and highlights the need for a free press to tackle ecological challenges.

In countries such as Russia, Cambodia, Brazil or even Bulgaria, in Europe, journalists run considerable risks when they try to alert the world about the misdeeds of those who prey on the environment.

Read the full report online

Read my June 2007 tribute to Joey Lozano, a courageous Filipino journalist who risked his life to fight for environmental and social justice issues

‘Saving the Planet’ new Asian TV series is ready for release!

It's planet saving time...and everybody is invited!

It's planet saving time...and everybody is invited!

Can ordinary people help save our planet?

What does it take to change their attitudes and lifestyles to consume and waste less?

For over two years, my team at TVE Asia Pacific and I have been working on a new TV series, modestly called Saving the Planet. It will be released at a regional conference in Tokyo, Japan, on 22 August 2009.

In this Asian series, produced in partnership with Asia Pacific Cultural Centre for UNESCO (ACCU), we profile successful initiatives that combine knowledge, skills and passion to create cleaner and healthier environments.

It was filmed in six countries in South and Southeast Asia: Cambodia, India, Laos, Nepal, the Philippines and Thailand.

The groups profiled in Saving the Planet often work without external funding and beyond the media spotlight. They have persisted with clarity of vision, sincerity of purpose and sheer determination. Their stories inspire many others to pursue grassroots action for a cleaner and safer planet.

Watch the series trailer here:

The dedicated website has just been revamped for the launch.

Watch out for more updates!

Cory Aquino (1933 – 2009): Unleashed People Power, still haunting tyrants worldwide

The remains of former Philippine president Corazon Aquino passes through the historical EDSA road with some 300,000 supporters waving to pay their last respect. The road is remembered in 1986 as then anonymous Cory and some 2 million people rallied out the streets to fight a 20-year government dictatorship through peaceful people power revolution. Photo by Arwin Doloricon/ Voyage Film

The remains of former Philippine president Corazon Aquino passes through the historical EDSA road with some 300,000 supporters waving to pay their last respect. The road is remembered in 1986 as then anonymous Cory and some 2 million people rallied out the streets to fight a 20-year government dictatorship through peaceful people power revolution. Photo by Arwin Doloricon/ Voyage Film

I know this post appears rather late, but I couldn’t let Cory Aquino’s death on 1 August 2009 pass without comment. The original inspiration for People Power that toppled one of the worst tyrants of the 20th Century, she would now turn the Patron Saint of peaceful democratic struggles everywhere.

Last week, I was reduced to tears reading two links that my Filipino friend Ruth Villarama, who runs Voyage Films in Manila, sent me of new comments posted on their website.

In the first post, A housewife, a leader, an angel in yellow (3 August 2009), Joan Rae Ramirez wrote: “Her death at 3 AM on August 1 has stopped a nation from its apathetic works to once again remember what was once fought by this ordinary housewife. It is on these rarest moments where the oligarchs came down from their kingdoms to pay their respect and mingle with the people who truly represent the real state of the Philippine nation.”

Karen Lim, who works with Voyage Films as a producer and project coordinator, wrote a more personalised piece titled The Famous Anonymous.

It opened with these words: “I see her on TV. In some instances I even covered her for a story. Our relationship did not go deeper than the reporter-subject, or the audience and the watched. Yet I feel a certain affinity to the most revered President. And when she died I got sad, a strange feeling of sadness where the source is unknown.”

Karen was too young to have remembered much of those heady days of the People Power Revolution of February 1986 — a series of nonviolent and prayerful mass street demonstrations in the Philippines that eventually toppled the 20-year autocracy of Ferdinand Marcos. Indeed, a whole generation of Filipinos has been born since. But that doesn’t stop them from relating to the monumental events that unfolded at at Epifanio de los Santos Avenue, known more commonly by its acronym EDSA, in Quezon City, Metropolitan Manila and involved over 2 million ordinary Filipinos as well as several political, military and religious figures.

As Karen wrote in her tribute: “Cory’s life became ours too. We watched her, sometimes we joined her. We experienced her highs and lows. We are her “Mga minamahal kong kababayan”(my beloved fellowman). She did what no stranger did in my family – unite us in prayer for the country, unite us in laughter amidst the uncertainties of those times. I had no personal connection to this lady, but I have now every reason to mourn her passing.”

Woman of the Year 1986

Woman of the Year 1986

I can only echo her Karen’s words. As a politically curious 19-year-old, I had followed with much interest the daring gamble and eventual triumph of People Power unfolding thousands of kilometres away from my Colombo home. In the pre-Internet era, and before satellite TV channels provided 24/7 coverage across Asia, my sources were daily newspapers, evening news bulletins on local TV and, once every few weeks, the second-hand copies of Time magazine passed on to me by an uncle. The housewife in yellow ended up becoming Time Woman of the Year for 1986, with Pico Iyer writing a suitably reflective piece.

In the years since the return of democracy – with all its imperfections and idiosyncrasies – I have stood at EDSA more than once, and wondered what it must have been like to mobilise millions of ordinary, concerned people in the days before email, Internet and mobile phones — communication tools that today’s political activists, and indeed everyone else, take for granted. There is a thin line between a non-violent struggle and a passionate yet violent mob that, ultimately, works against their own interests. I am amazed that Cory and her activists didn’t cross the line, despite provocations and 20 years of repression.

Of course, it wasn’t just the human numbers that turned the tide in EDSA. Cory Aquino’s charismatic leadership and moral authority persuaded other centres of power – including the Catholic church and sections of the military – to align with the struggle to restore democracy. It was this combination, and the sudden change of mind by the Americans who had backed Marcos all along, that enabled People Power to triumph.

Elsewhere in Asia, where these elements didn’t align as forcefully and resolutely in the years that followed, the outcome was not as dramatic or positive. We’ve seen that, for example, in places as diverse as Tiananmen Square in China (1989), Burma (2007) and most recently, in the streets of Tehran, Iran. In contrast, it did indeed work and ushered in regime change in places like Nepal, even though it entailed more protracted struggles.

What interests me, in particular, is the role played by information and communication technologies (ICTs) in such People Power movements. Alex Magno, a political analyst and professor of sociology in Manila, sees clear links between new communications technologies and political agitation. Interviewed on the Canadian documentary Seeing Is Believing: Handicams, Human Rights and the News (2002), he said: “In the last two decades or so, most of the political upheavals had some distinct link to communications technology. The (1979) Iranian Revolution was closely linked to the audio cassette. The first EDSA uprising in the Philippines was very closely linked to the photocopying machine and so we called it the ‘Xerox Revolution’. Tiananmen, the uprising that failed in China, was called the ‘Fax Revolution’, because the rest of the world was better informed than the rest of the neighbourhood because of the fax machine. The January (2002) uprising in the Philippines represents a convergence between electronic mail and text messaging. And that gave that uprising its specific characteristics.”

Mobile phones' role in People Power II acknowledged in a Manila mural

Mobile phones' role in People Power II acknowledged in a Manila mural

But it was People Power II in the Philippines that is perhaps the best known example of ICTs fuelling and sustaining a revolution. The ability to send short text messages on cell phones helped spawn that political revolution in early 2001, a full decade and a half after the original wave that swept Cory Aquino into office.

President Estrada was on trial facing charges of bribery, corruption and breach of the public trust. Despite mounting evidence against him, the President was let off the hook. That was the turning point. According to Ramon Isberto, a vice-president at Smart Telecom in the Philippines: “People saw it on television, and a lot of people were revolted. They started text messaging each other, sending each other messages over the Internet, and that thing created a combustion.”

Because of texting and email, within two hours over 200,000 people converged in the main street of Manila demanding the president’s resignation. The vigil lasted for four days and four nights, until President Estrada finally got the message and stepped down. It ended with Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo taking her oath of office in the presence of the crowd at EDSA, becoming the 14th president of the Philippines.

Those events have been documented, analysed and interpreted by many people from various angles. The Cold War had ended and the geopolitical map of the world had been redrawn. By this time, 24/7 satellite television was commonplace in Asia and the mobile phone was already within ordinary people’s reach. Gloria was no Cory, and Estrada wasn’t Marcos. But the forces and elements once again aligned on EDSA, and with history-making results. The role that the humble mobile phone played is acknowledged, among other places, in a mural in Manila.

Encounter with Anpanman: A superman made of bread!

Anpanman is one of the most popular anime cartoon series in Japan

Anpanman is one of the most popular anime cartoon series in Japan

Last month, on my way to the Tokyo headquarters of NHK, Japan’s public broadcaster, I stopped at the Tokyo Tower for a bit of sight-seeing.

A communications tower located in Shiba Park, Minato, Tokyo, the Tokyo Tower is 332.6 meters (1,091 ft) tall – which makes it the tallest self-supporting steel structure in the world. Built in 1958, this Eiffel Tower-like structure supports an antenna that broadcasts television and radio signals for important Japanese media outlets including NHK, TBS and Fuji TV.

At the base of the tower, I had an unexpected encounter with an old friend. I know him as Gnana Katha Malliya, the name given to him in the Sinhalese adaptation that I watch on Sri Lankan television.

But everyone in Japan knows him by his original name: Anpanman. He is one of the most popular anime cartoon series (manga) in Japan. It is produced by Nippon Television Network Corporation.

Anpanman is the creation of Takashi Yanase, a Japanese writer of children’s stories. Each animated cartoon is approximately 24 minutes long, split into 2 episodes of approximately 12 minutes each.

Yanase has been writing Anpanman since 1968. He became inspired by the idea of Anpanman while struggling to survive as a soldier in World War II. He had frequently faced the prospect of starvation which made him dream about eating a bean-jam filled pastry called Anpan.

Anpanma is indeed a superman made by a baker. His head is a bun made by Jam Ojisan, a kind-hearted baker. He was created when a shooting star landed in Jam Ojisan’s oven while he was baking.

Anpanma’s name comes from the fact that he is a man with a head made of bread that is filled with bean jam called an anpan. His weakness is water or anything that makes his head dirty. He regains his health and strength when Jam Ojisan bakes him a new head and it is placed on his shoulders. Anpanman’s damaged head, with Xs in his eyes, flies off his shoulders once a new baked head lands.

The most endearing attribute of Anpanman is his sense of sacrifice. When he comes across a starving creature or person, he lets the unfortunate creature or person eat part of his head. Jam Ojisan has to keep baking an endless supply of heads for our hero.

And it gives a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘eat my head off’.

Baikinman is the villain in the stories. He comes from the “Germ World” and is the leader of the viruses. His name means “Germ Man”, and his ambition is to destroy Anpanman and turn the planet into another “Germ World”.

Read about other characters in Anpanma

Anpanman (R) and Baikinman at the Tokyo Tower

Anpanman (R) and Baikinman at the Tokyo Tower

According to the Wikipedia, as of September 2006, Anpanman’s books had collectively sold over 50 million copies in Japan.

The Anpanman television series is called Soreike! Anpanman (meaning ‘Go! Anpanman’) – it has been on the air in Japan since 1988. More than 800 episodes have been made to date. There are also 18 cinematic films featuring the characters.

According to the Japanese toy company Bandai, Anpanma is the most popular fictional character from age 0 to 12 years in Japan.

As I found out, Anpanman is such a cultural icon in Japan that his images adorn railway carriages, and there is an Anpanman museum opened in Yokohama in 2007.

Anpanman is also popular in many countries across Asia. He has a large following in China and Korea, where the comics and TV series have been a popular Japanese cultural export for years.

And, as it turns out, I’d been enjoying his exploits on Sri Lankan television for years without even knowing his original Japanese name! This reinforces the point I made in Feb 2008, writing about another favourite character Madeline – originally French, but whom I encountered on a visit to Manila and Los Banos in January this year.

I wrote: “It’s becoming impossible to discern or define what is ‘local’ anymore in this rapidly globalising and integrating world. Sociologists and communication researchers who split hairs about preserving ‘local content’ have a romanticised notion that is hard to find in the real world.”


Read my Feb 2008 blog: What’s local in our mixed up, globalised world?


Watch a sample story: Anpanman to Hamigakiman

Why do Development Rip Van Winkles prefer ‘Aunties’ without eye-balls?

When I was growing up in suburban Colombo in the 1980s, we had a family friend who worked at the Sri Lanka Broadcasting Corporation (SLBC). When anyone asked him where he worked, he would simply reply: “I’m in broadcasting.”

That answer was perfectly adequate at the time, when the fully state-owned and government-controlled SLBC was the only domestic broadcaster. The FM radio band was eerily silent, and only die-hard enthusiasts would persist with shortwave crackle to listen to foreign broadcasts like BBC, Voice of America or Radio Veritas from thousands of kilometres away. We also had two state TV channels still learning the ropes.

Today, that kind of answer would mean nothing. Two dozen FM radio channels crowd the airwaves. In the western province, there are 15 free-to-air terrestrial TV channels – and counting.

Most of these are privately owned and commercially operated channels, all started after broadcasting was (partially) liberalised in 1992. They compete fiercely for a share of audience – and advertising revenue. While that can sometimes be a race to the bottom, it’s infinitely better than the bad old days when we had no choice but to tune into ruling party propaganda masquerading as public broadcasting.

The situation is broadly the same in many other countries in the Asia Pacific region. With a few exceptions, the state-owned, government-controlled broadcasters have seen their monopolies end – and as their long-suffering audiences might confirm, not a moment too soon. They now have to compete with younger, more dynamic and decidedly more interesting private channels.

And in every market, former monopolists have seen their audience share shrink, in some cases dramatically. The one-time lords of the airwaves have been reduced to minority players. Many are struggling to make ends meet, and some are kept alive only because governments keep pumping in large volumes of tax-payer funds.

Meanwhile, the eye-balls and advertising revenues have migrated to the privately owned, commercially operated TV stations. They entertain, amuse and sometimes titillate. But they also inform and occasionally educate their audiences.

And yes, many are making money too – and that’s neither illegal nor immoral in market economies.

Alas, the former monopolists haven’t yet stopped crying foul. They allege that the commercial stations are playing by a different set of rules, allowing the latter to play the market and maximise returns. In contrast, the government channels claim to have a ‘public service mandate’ that’s harder to fulfill and not always popular or populist.

Note that I have not used the term ‘public broadcaster’ to describe the government channels – because, whatever their founding documents might say, most of them are not serving the public interest. In developing Asia, which lacks sufficient checks and balances to ensure independence of state broadcasters, the only thing public about such channels is that they are often a drain on public money collected through taxes. Their service and loyalties are entirely to whichever political party, coalition or military dictator in government.

When the divide between governments and the public interest is growing, most ‘public’ channels find themselves on the wrong side. No wonder, then, that discerning views have abandoned them.

Interestingly, old habits and brand loyalty might explain why at least a minority audience still remains for state broadcasters. The state channels have been around for longer, and for years, they were the only show in town. Some of them occupy large swaths of the UHF and VHF spectrum, making their signals easier to catch.

But these advantages would diminish over time. For one thing, young people far outnumber older persons in most parts of developing Asia (almost 62 per cent of the world’s youth – aged between 15 and 24 – are in Asia: that was 716 million in 2005). For another thing, the more dynamic private competition is finding new pathways to reach youthful audiences.

State broadcasters may be venerable to some, but no one thinks of them as ‘cool’. Even the BBC – which is far better shielded from governmental manipulation than its Asian counterparts – has yet to shed its old nickname and image of “Auntie”, originating from its old-fashioned “Auntie knows best” attitude.

In Asia, now home to the world’s largest combined television audience, it’s more a case of grandma knows best. The other day, I asked a young Filipino film-maker and TV journalist about who watches her country’s National Broadcasting Network. “In my family, only grandma watches it,” she replied, adding that the only time others tune in to that channel is to watch lottery results.

This is not an isolated insight. Across Asia, FM radio and commercial TV have captured the markets of the young and young-at-heart.

Nobody grudges grandmas and grandpas being served by their favourite channels. But we have to ask how and why decades of public investments in broadcast infrastructure and institutions are not serving a wider spectrum of the population. Dishing out lottery results and pandering to Narcissistic politicians cannot quite pass as serving the public interest.

Meanwhile, in a welcome trend, the market-leading commercial broadcasters are increasingly turning their massive outreach and influence to serve the public interest. It goes against the conventional wisdom of ivory tower researchers and media activists who cry themselves hoarse accusing commercial broadcasters of reaping profits without returning something to the community. But it’s real.

In market after market, country after country all over the Asia Pacific, privately owned, commercially successful radio and TV channels are championing the public interest. They may not have a UNESCO-articulated grand agenda, but they see it as serving the needs and wants of their loyal audiences.

The services are as diverse as the needs themselves. Some channels are dispensing practical information and advice on all sorts of everyday matters from traffic congestion and vaccination to school admissions and crime prevention. Others have gone further, for example launching national campaigns against narcotic drugs or corruption, and advocating better care for persons living with HIV.

In covering these and other public interest or development issues, commercial channels bring in a healthy dose of creativity, dynamism and innovation. They don’t preach or pontificate. Instead they make it fun, hop and cool to do what we should be doing anyway in our self interest.

See, for example, my Sep 2007 blog post on MTV Exit: Entertainment TV takes on human trafficking

And I don’t mind if some of them laugh all the way to their banks at the end of each financial year. (In reality, many operate on thin margins and few make significant profits.)

A few commercial broadcasters go even further. On a visit to Manila last week, I heard how ABS-CBN – the country’s privately owned, market-leading broadcast group – is doing much for science popularisation and public education. These are done through charitable foundations that deliver public goods through private means.

While all this is happening, the development community seems trapped in a time warp – clinging on to an outdated notion that state broadcasters alone can serve the public interest (if you ask me, they never did). Perhaps out of habit, they keep turning to such channels with their ever-shrinking audiences.

A few weeks ago, a senior official at Sri Lanka’s largest development organisation Sarvodaya told me how hard it was for them to have their development films broadcast. The two state broadcasters had both demanded money for air time.

Strangely, he had not even considered engaging a commercial broadcaster. “After all, we want to be seen our national channels,” he explained.

This Rip Van Winkle attitude doesn’t help anyone, and least of all those communities that development agencies are trying to reach through media-based communication.

As I asked at a recent UNEP-convened meeting in Bangkok: “If in our technical work we are evidence-based, why can’t we be evidence-based in our communication strategies and decisions as well? We must define the priority audiences we want to reach, and find out their media preferences. We need to use independent audience ratings, and not personal perceptions or biases in choosing which stations we work with.”

Thus, if the development community is serious about engaging the broadcast media, they must first awake from their long slumber and quickly update themselves on current realities in Asian broadcasting.

It’s not who owns that decides the public spirited character of a radio or TV station. In today’s complex and nuanced media landscape, it’s the performance and delivery that count.

Aunties without eyeballs can trudge along on government’s crutches. The rest of us have miles to go before we can rest.

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