From 'criminal' to doctor in criminal justice

I was once accused of a crime I did not commit. I was accused of murder for the death of an equally promising young man a few months prior to my graduation from the University of the Philippines in Diliman. I was arrested on May 24, 1995, prosecuted in the courts and put behind bars in Quezon City Jail until February 28, 2002. Then only 20 years old, I was naïve to the harsh realities of this world. Released at age 27 and losing the seven best years of my youth, I was a changed man.  Like any emotionally devastated human being, I was initially bitter about my incarceration. I could not fathom why a person as idealistic and as innocent as I should undergo such suffering. I cannot comprehend why I had to live in a cell which accommodated 30 inmates instead of the five that was humanely prescribed. I cannot understand why I was forced to live with a food subsistence of tuyo (dried fish) that barely sustained my flesh. I cannot grasp why I had to go out of jail with handcuffs with the media too willing to proclaim that I was "the person to be hanged.” In my myopic mind and shortsighted understanding, I questioned God: “Do I deserve this suffering?” But God works in mysterious ways. He sent people who could serve as floaters when I was about to sink in a sea of despair. He sent sister Auxi, a religious nun, who made me her assistant in her prison ministry. He sent Bobby and other brothers in the Christ Youth Action, who introduced me to the Bible. He strengthened my parents who steadfastly supported me without questioning my involvement in the crime. He strengthened my girlfriend whose advice to “be a good boy" continued to ring when the corrupting influences of the jail tempted me. And He gave me Dan, my fellow accused and who served time with me, whose character was a pillar of strength when we were emotionally drained.  Responding to the hook God gave me, I volunteered my services to the Jail Bureau. I taught in the literacy program where we introduced the basics of writing and reading to our fellow inmates. I worked as a paralegal coordinator where we monitored the cases of inmates who had long been overdue for release. I organized a bible study group called Kristo Okay sa Amin (KOSA) to generate brotherly love among the warring gangs. Eventually, on my fourth year of imprisonment, I became the Mayor the Mayores, the top position in the inmate political hierarchy, where I helped the warden in managing the affairs of the prison: of how to keep the jail surroundings clean, of how to prevent conflicts among the inmate gangs, of how to generate funds to keep the reformation programs going. Indeed, I saw firsthand the intricacies of managing a crowded, underfunded, undermanned prison institution.  Therefore, instead of being bitter about my prison experience, as Father Tony Ranada, the QC Jail chaplain would say, “I was embettered by it!” I learned that there was a reason why God sent me there: to tame my wild and insatiable soul. Prior to my incarceration, I was headed to the worldly and Machiavellian life of the legal profession where I envisioned myself to be a shrewd lawyer. “Nah!” God said, “I had better plans!”   

I realized I was in jail to discover His undying love for me. I realized His immense plan for me to prosper. Having found the reason: I claimed my freedom and clung on to His promise: I may be the maligned inmate, but I was spiritually free. I shall use my academic and intellectual skills for His greater glory. In the process, I was driven to document furiously what ailed the jail administration and to understand why and how my fellow inmates ended up in jail. I also endeavored to understand why gangs engaged in violence and drug distribution and how prison officers maintained their professional integrity despite the deficiency in salaries and personnel. I wrote letters to the media and to concerned politicians and administrators to provide a realistic analysis of why jail escapes happen, of why inmates engage in riots, and anything that will portray a true understanding of jail life. Indeed, right in the confines of Quezon City Jail, I was introduced to the academic field of Criminal Justice. Eventually, after six years, nine months and four days, I was proclaimed a free man. Of course, I was wrongly accused! Immediately, I wrote a book entitled “Freedom and Death Inside the City Jail” about my jail experience which was supported by the United Nations Development Program and published by the Philippine Supreme Court. In his message, then Chief Justice Hilario Davide described my book as an “eye opener.” He then used it as one of the bases for the wide-ranging Action Program for Judicial Reforms. In one unforgettable moment, I delivered a speech in front of the 15 justices of the Supreme Court sharing with them my story of incarceration and redemption. Almost in tears, one of the female justices approached me and whispered, “Our courts could only express our apology.” Apologies accepted! But more than apology, I wanted our leaders to act more in behalf of the inmates and other downtrodden people. I wanted them to develop a passion for the people they are serving. Using my extensive experience on how the inefficacy of prison records lengthen the stay of inmates in jail, and inspiring a group of computer programmers, we came up with a Simplified Inmates Records System (SIRS) that computerized the inmates’ carpeta. We also developed a Detainees Notebook, where inmates can self-monitor their own cases. These efforts to de-clog the jail were eventually noticed by the Quezon City government; which awarded me the Outstanding Citizen Award in 2005. Three years after treated a lowly inmate in Quezon City Jail, I was honored as Quezon City’s model citizen. God be the glory. But when it rains, it pours. My representation about the penal situation brought me everywhere. Eventually, I was chosen as one of the 10 Fulbright Scholars in August 2005. I was sent to Michigan State University for a Masters Degree in Criminal Justice. For my masters’ thesis, I studied the correlates of victimization among Filipino respondents. Impressed by my performance, the Department offered me another scholarship, this time for the Doctor in Philosophy.  The road to the Phd degree was a long and rigorous one. I had to burn the midnight oil to read theories about crime; I had to stay in the library for long periods to master the methods of collecting data; and I had to refresh my old mathematical skills in order to understand statistical analyses. There were times that I almost gave up, asking God if I had made the right decision to pursue a PhD. I had two kids by then and they were growing right in my eyes. But once again, I clung to God’s promise. I remembered: He sent me to prison, and He plucked me out. Then, there must be a reason why He sent me to a foreign shore just to be the “Filipino expert” in Criminal Justice. Indeed, He introduced me to a church family that nourished and deepened my understanding of His Word. In my spiritual growth, I realized that any efforts to improve a justice or social system must be based on the foundation of truth and love. And I used this biblical concept to guide my future efforts to improve my country’s justice system. Indeed, after seven years, the same length of time I spent in jail, I am done with my masters and PhD degrees.  I marched tall and proud. I marched to say thank you for all those who kept and continue to keep the faith. I will reiterate: Hang on and never give up. I marched to declare that everybody commits a mistake and it is important to learn and grow from it. I marched to be a testimony to the triumph of the human spirit in the face of seemingly unending odds. But most importantly, I marched as a proclamation of God’s love.  Raymund E. Narag East Lansing Michigan May 4, 2012 The author was in the UP fraternity Scintilla Juris when he was arrested as one of the accused in the death of Dennis Venturina of Sigma Rho fraternity, who was killed in a frat war in 1994. Raymund Narag was eventually acquitted and released from jail after seven years.