Everyone knew that EDSA was not an enterprise of just one group. No. And it did not sprout as spontaneously as others were made to believe. The seeds of dissent were planted by those students in the sixties and seventies barricades, and rebelliousness resides in the Filipino DNA. Marcos just watered those seeds and allowed them to bloom like a thousand, even millions of flowers. (For hippies, those were poppy flowers, or so they believe)
Socialist-minded activists also took care of those seeds. Some who matured faster than the others, went on to work as propagandists in the factories, in those small shops while those sophisticated enough to wear Amerikanas, went the rounds of coffee shops, planting doubts and making dissent something of a fashion, a vogue.
Before Ninoy came home, the people were ripe for the picking. The armies of reason have reached critical mass. The Maoists camping in the hills and mountains near Manila were extremely ready to continue Bonifacio's struggle. More than 27,000 responded, all fully armed to the teeth and ready to wage battle against 100,000 of Marcos' troops.
And then it happened.
Ninoy got himself shot. He lies slumped on the airport grounds, bloodied. It was 1983. He went back home to finish what he started. He was the Filipino's Caudillo, a Knight in shining intellectual armor, re-born and determined to prove that the Filipino is worth dying for.
His blood became the precious water that fully germinated the seeds of those still young enough to accept the harsh realities of their time. Against the laws of nature, the maturity of those who saw Ninoy's sacrifice came faster than usual. From then on, everything went on a dizzy-ing pace, time warped, and everything happened quicker, faster, stronger, firmer.
Three years later, those thousand flowers, mostly roses and vermillions, populated the streets of EDSA. (to be continued...again. have to leave for a meeting)