Sef Cagoco travels to the beautiful island province of Romlon Province to meet the Governor fondly known as ‘Jojo’.

Governor Natalio F. Beltran III sits on the lower bunk of a double-decker bed in a small ferry waiting to cross the Sibuyan Sea, his legs stretched out, his hand popping nuts into his mouth. He looks at ease with people who come up to him to make small talk or bring up official business, and positively relaxed playing with a handheld video console to pass time.

It is a scene the first-time governor of Romblon, the island-province in the center of the Philippine archipelago, relives over and over – untiringly.

Gray mist dulls the periwinkle horizon as the ferry docks at the provincial capital’s port. Gov. Beltran heads out to the town plaza immediately outside the port, passing a small park he recently spiffed up, and goes straight to a row of eateries. He orders an assortment of viands to share with his small entourage and afterwards sits himself down on a plastic chair. He eats the Filipino way – heaping a serving of each dish in the small feast on his plate and consuming everything heartily.

He is the chief of this fiefdom – minus the pomp and spectacle. He rules in a shirt and a pair of jeans, driving himself around in a car or a motorcycle whenever he feels like it, which is often.

Gov. Beltran’s father was an esteemed political leader of the province who taught him, above anything else, that ruling justly need not come with superfluous trappings.

“My father brought us up to be human,” Gov. Beltran said simply, “Not feeling superior, never acting arrogantly.”

The elder Natalio Beltran, once an assemblyman, undersecretary for public works and congressman, was raised by a priest and took odd jobs to finish college. To look down on the less fortunate was to look down on his own beginnings, he told the governor and his sisters.

Gov. Beltran said: “My father was a good man. He really loved our province,” a love borne of indebtedness then, in turn, instilled and nourished among the children.

Their eyes were opened to politics because of their father, Jun Beltran, who was mostly away because while they stayed in Manila, he was shuttling between his home and his hometown.

“We don’t spend Christmas with him because he spends it in the province,” Gov. Beltran shared.

He would still involve them in his activities such as make them wrap up presents which he would take to Romblon and give away as if he were Santa Claus.

“He would make the rounds of all the schools he could reach. Then he’d make the children fall in line and give them gifts.”

Recognizing the role it played on his own life, Jun Beltran also introduced free education at the elementary and high school levels.

“It became his pledge,” Gov. Beltran remarked, “to give back the prosperity he earned.”

Needless to say Gov. Beltran proved to be the sole male heir of his father.

“I have experienced how dad’s life was when we were apart from him.” Then his voice nearly cracked when he continued, “It is hardest to be away from your family.”

Being his father’s heir may be his birthright but Gov. Beltran proved that he earned his successes – he worked hard for them – though things happened quite accidentally.

“I also don’t know how my political career began,” he said with a solemn smile as the cacophony of mid-afternoon traffic served as background music as we talked in his office in Manila.

Gov. Beltran was managing the family’s security agency business at 26 years old when he first forayed into politics. His mother objected to upsetting a harmonious life for politics, in her mind a crazy idea. “She told me not to enter politics because it was an expensive and unproductive undertaking.”

His father, on the other hand, was neither a sceptic nor supporter.

In 1997 he ran to become captain of his barangay – the smallest political unit in the Philippines – in Sampaloc, Manila, and became at 26 the youngest to have pulled a victory.

Somebody told him to gun for the presidency of the league of barangay captains in Manila, all 897 of them. Feeling beginner’s luck on his side, Gov. Beltran decided to take a crack at it. But he went back to seek his parents approval again. His mother, once more, discouraged him. Meanwhile, his father impressed on him what would become the standard by which he would be judged.

“My father told me that the world I wanted to enter is messy and noisy, a world where there are no real friends. It is a world that requires resilience and courage otherwise it would bring you to your knees in tears. He said I had to be different if the ordinary people were to love me.

“But his most important reminder was: ‘Don’t bother running if you will just destroy the name I have worked all my life to build.’”

It was something Gov. Beltran has painstakingly avoided from happening.

“I carry out my responsibilities, from the time I served in Manila, always with our name in mind – my father’s name. I take care of the name and reputation that my father built and which I inherited.”

This good name was his tower of strength so to speak, his recourse when politics dealt him his first nasty blow.

With his father’s support and guidance, Gov. Beltran became the president of the league and the youngest ever to win – by a landslide at that. Five years later he ran again as chairman of his barangay, this time his entire lineup was unopposed. He became the league’s president once more to the dismay of the city’s ruling mayor.

“The mayor was asking his people who would run against me. They told him, ‘Jojo is a tough rival, he knows how to get along with people.’”

Perhaps wanting to prove that his influence was more weighty than Gov. Beltran’s record, the mayor sought to unseat him by proposing new rules of election that he believed run counter to the law that established the local government system. Gov. Beltran fought it with all the patience he could muster, after all, the mayor was a godfather at his wedding.

“I received the first pain in the world of politics which my dad said would hurt extremely,” he noted.

It became an ugly political war – his office at the city hall was padlocked and the salaries of his staff were not released.

The battle reached the country’s highest court which in 2006 ruled in favour of Gov. Beltran. “I wanted to stand by the law because the law is for all,” he declared. “I vowed to protect our name so I would not get involved in anything that would taint it.”

Gov. Beltran was also careful not to hurl stones back at his opponent. “I could not fight back because I knew the day would come when I would have to kiss his hand again because he was our godfather. If I bickered with him we would never regain good relations. I will never allow that.”

With his political battle in Manila over and won, Gov. Beltran felt it was time to go home.
Gov. Beltran’s father never pressured him to follow his footsteps but he made certain to impress on him the desire to serve his home province.

“He used to ask me, ‘Why do you serve here in Manila, why not at our hometown?’

“I believed that once you become a public servant in Manila you’d be almost made of steel because all the battles are here.”

For all his keenness as a political observer, Gov. Beltran would ponder on his own career and come up with quite a simplistic, self-effacing conclusion.

“Maybe it was destiny or the Lord’s will for me to serve in Manila first.”

In any case, he recognized his obligation to his province and desired to fulfil it.

During his father’s last days, he would often tell Gov. Beltran not to neglect his province. “I didn’t respond, I kept quiet.”

Again the elder Beltran, in the gargle of his voice, repeated the plea: “Son, do not neglect our province.”

“I finally replied, dad we shall go home to Romblon, I will go with you as soon as you are better.”

Gov. Beltran would make that trip without his father who passed away in June 2008. But he would make it with his every teaching planted firmly in his heart and mind. He became Romblon’s youngest governor in 2006 at 36 years.

“I don’t know how I won,” he wondered in a half-smile. “What I know is I put my father’s name [in my campaign materials] and the people recognized it. Even I was terrified of the trust they gave me.”

The hardest thing to adjust to was journeying through Romblon’s 20 islands and islets.

“It’s tough to get from one island to another. If only Romblon were one big island. I’ve rode through the biggest waves in the smallest boats. I have to walk up rough terrains. I constantly deal with sleeplessness and fatigue.”

But they do not get him down if only for his desire to protect his father’s name, also to prove he is worthy of bearing it.

“I am overawed with my father’s achievements. I know I have to match, if not exceed, them. I’m getting there.”

Romblon, he feels, is a province lacking in attention from the national government. He credits his partnership with the province’s congressman, Budoy Madrona, for the stream of projects and funding that have been flowing to Romblon since his term began.

“This is about hard work. I have to regularly be here in Manila to follow up our requests at the budget department, to talk with secretaries and regional directors. Thankfully these help release our projects.”

In his first term, Gov. Beltran set an agenda encompassing economic and social issues embodied in the catch phrase, “Romblon, Bayan nating Mahal” – Romblon, our beloved home.

“They say it’s too deep and profound. I disagree. It’s quite simple. If you love your province, your town, your barangay, you should show it, not only say it.”

Romblon is admittedly a poor province, hence Gov. Beltran prioritized livelihood enhancement and poverty alleviation in his agenda.

He supports seed growers by providing them additional tractors. He has boosted rice and vegetable production. He distributes seedlings, creates farm reservoirs, fish and turtle sanctuaries, helps farmers in crop production and builds water-impounding dams to support the province’s agriculture and fisheries-based economy.

Romblon is teeming with natural resource but he is constrained for these to be exploited without the explicit approval of the people. The island of Sibuyan, for one, is home to the virgin forest of Mt. Guiting-guiting and rich in nickel and gold deposits. Yet he has not given the green light to any major mining operation because the locals object to it.

“There have been big-time applicants but I told them they cannot do anything unless they convince the people. I am convinced that they can generate jobs and income for the government plus they will carry out corporate social responsibility. But they have to convince my constituents, not me, that they will do things right, that they will observe the law,” Gov. Beltran explained.

He is taking a similar stand in the capital town of Romblon where marble mining used to be a prosperous industry. Romblon’s marble is often compared to Italy’s Carrara marble but the industry has been on a slump for years.

Gov. Beltran’s father, during his service, wanted to create a special economic zone to encourage more investment to pour into the industry and encourage small local players to work together as a single, bigger entity. But the locals disliked the idea and his father did not push it. Neither does Beltram, though he realizes its wisdom and potential to protect the industry.

“They would be stronger if they were one – but I leave it that way. It’s up to them.”

Meanwhile, Gov. Beltran is also planning for a 200-bed modern hospital that would also serve as a training ground for medical students. He is also actively promoting tourism by improving access and transportation, repairing public infrastructure, and beautifying each town with parks and small landmarks.

After all there is not a want of sites to see and places to visit in Romblon. Its three major islands and dozen islets burst with magnificent beaches, grand falls, concealed caves, sunken treasures and historic landmarks that make for the most charming palette of blues, greens, browns and reds. It is also a province of warm, shy smiles, helpful strangers and hospitable homes that make it more than easy to feel at ease and be assimilated into the tranquil land and seascape.

Education was his father’s priority and so is his. He has built classrooms, rehabilitated schools and distributed school supplies to schoolchildren across the province. But the legacy he wants to begin sowing now is one his beloved father left him – to love his roots and cherish it for always.

“Our culture is slowly eroding. Romblomanons were raised in a culture of love and solidarity. But self-interest has been eating into that tradition,” Gov. Beltran lamented.

So he is replanting the seeds among the young and calling on the older generation to set a good example. He encourages locals who have moved elsewhere to come back and, instead of seeing it as underdeveloped, take pride in their hometown for its inherent bucolic charm and dignity.

“I want Romblon, my province, to be a home for every Romblomanon. I cannot convince Cebuano, Pampangeño, Manileño, Batangeño to love Romblon. The only ones who will love Romblon is we Romblomanons.”

Politics seems not to have affected Gov. Beltran at all. Rather, he does not let it get in the way of the life he has been used to living. His appearance is always laid-back and casual, none of the artificial formality and detachment acquired so quickly by most politicians. He speaks fluent Filipino by choice and with pride.

He did not have security until late in 2008 when Congressman Madrona assigned some officers to him. “I don’t like having security in tow. When I want to go out, I can drive myself or ride a motorcycle.”

His staff recounts that often the governor would disappear from his office or home and then come back with a huge pot of local porridge from a nearby eatery to share with everyone.

“I love lugaw,” he laughed.

He also loves fishballs, another street food sold in a mobile cart. “I don’t like fishballs brought to me. I like seeing it cooked in front of me and eating it on the spot,” he said so firmly it almost sounded like he was fighting for his life.

And perhaps he is. “Politics did not change my life and never will I let it change me. If I changed myself I would begin to doubt myself.

His wisdom is made wiser by its simplicity. “When I step down from office, I only have my life to go back to. My life would be the same, nothing has to change.”