Quick Reflections

1983 Philippines : Ninoy assassination & economic depression. 1983 Cheryl: broke.

That year was financially difficult for our family. We moved to a huge but unfinished house with no electricity. With two new siblings (a 2 yr-old Franz and a 1 month old Diana), there were now 4 small mouths to feed. My father had to leave for the States that following year so he can continue to support us.

My piano lessons stopped. Heidi’s ballet class halted. While nobody ever talked to me about the situation, I was smart enough to understand we were in deep sh*t.

As the first born, I needed to step up to the plate. Familia Martinez needed money.

I started selling goodies.

Here’s how it worked: everyday after school, I walked to the public market. I brought a P1.00 pack containing 12 pulborons. Each pulboron was then sold for 10 centavos each. Gross sales was P1.20, therefore, I was making 20 centavos per pack.

My 20-centavo profit can buy 8 pieces of writing paper, which was then sold 2 for 5 centavos. It was my first taste of sweet victory and felt so good not having to burden my parents with my basic school supplies.

So I kept selling: sampaloc, curly tops, monay, cheese curls, stationary.

Everyday of the week. Monday thru Friday. Grade V thru Grade VI.

Thank goodness for 1985. Days of panic-buying across the country stopped and our family finances improved. My Dad started sending money from the States. Plus, he was giving me an additional allowance of $5 month, which was about PhP100.00 at that time.

Yehey, mayaman na ulit kami! For a change, I now can afford to buy my favorite: the Magnolia pinipig crunch. Or go to Snowland, order a special halo-halo (with ube ice cream) and a side order of that soft chiffon cake. What a relief!

It was then I stopped the business. I was going to start high school anyway. Besides, I was having a terrible crush on one Aklan Collegian high school basketball star…forgot his name, dang!.  It was time to grow up at magdalaga. Bagets!

The summer before high school started, I happily trotted to the Balete Rural Bank to close my ‘business’ account. I withdrew the final total: PhP 43.30. Yes, two crisp orange paper bills + 3 big Carabao one peso coins and some change.

Ha! Ha! Ha! I worked for TWO YEARS and made ONE DOLLAR!?

Ay, I shouldn’t laugh. In fact, I should be proud of myself.

At 10 years old, I was already a businesswoman. I gained a steady client base, which in this case, my dear special class Daffodil classmates. I had a system that worked. I gained working knowledge of the wholesale/retail concepts. And yes, I made money, tax free, during the Marcos Regime pa.

Most importantly, I did not make my family’s financial crisis an excuse to feel sorry for myself. I never begged for food or money. I didn’t remember whining about my empty stomach. No complaints about my two-inch pencil (with the other end kinakagat ko para lumitaw ang eraser). I held my head high while selling precious small yellow mamon’s, again, for 10 centavos a piece.

And I still made it 4^th Honors of the 1985 Kalibo Pilot Elementary School graduating class *grin* … La-la-la ….You don’t need analyzing, It is not so-surprising, That you feel very strange at night… La-la-la-la-la

He he he. Funny and sad. Ako na-awa at natuwa — sa sarili ko he he he.

Sharing-sharing lamang po about my humble entrepreneurial beginnings!