THE story of Tarik Hamayon Khan, 32, can put the plot of most telenovelas to shame.

The only son of an OFW from Bato, Catanduanes, who worked in London for many years, Tarik was born on December 4, 1976 in England and was baptized at the St. Thomas More Church in Swiss Cottage, London.

Before leaving for London, Tarik’s mother worked as a cook, household help, and later as hospital attendant. Among the big families in Manila she had worked for were the Velascos and Rochases of Forbes Park, and the Roceses who owned a publishing house.

It was in London that Tarik’s mother met his father, Tarik Hamayon Khan, a British national of Iranian descent. All those years she was in London, she sent money to her brothers and sisters in Catanduanes, with instructions to build a house for her and her son.

After many years in England, Tarik and his mother returned to Bicol, hoping to find a new house where they could retire. It didn’t happen. Instead of building the Khans’ dream house, their relatives diverted the money, which had been sent them regularly, also dividing the household items sent by ship among themselves.

Tarik’s mother had a hard time coping with this betrayal in the family. Mother and son had to move from one lodging house to another, and ended up in the town plaza and church patio when they ran out of money.

One time his mother gathered religious images and hurled them at the waves, while sobbing bitterly at her fate, Tarik recalled. Then 4, he embraced his mother and pleaded with her, ”Don’t take it so badly, Mommy. You still have me!” At about this time, the young boy realized that his mother had descended into madness.

Tarik was later adopted by a couturier, who took care of his early schooling. He was in good hands until he was run over by a Manila-bound bus while on his way home from school. The boy ended up in the Orthopedic Hospital where he stayed for several months until his guardian could no longer foot the hospital bills. He couldn’t even take the boy back as he had no legal adoption papers.

Tarik ended up in foster homes and found a German foster dad who sent him to a good school. But the past haunted the boy, turned him rebellious and restless, until the foster families tired of him and he wound up in a shelter for migrant children managed by Fr. Ben Villote.

But one family who never gave up on him was the family of Mrs. Carmencita Protacio Herman and Dr. Tony Protacio of the Protacio Hospital in Paranaque, who became his parent-figures.

Explained Tarik: “The Protacios, particularly Tita Baby, have been the most patient of all people in dealing with me. They just never gave up on me. I’ve been the worst a person could be, and yet they continued to shower me with love, always understanding, and always hoping that someday I would change for good. They somehow knew that the rage in me was caused by a wound that simply needed to heal. It was their love that saved me.”

One year before finishing his college studies, Tarik quit his part-time job, left Manila and went back to Albay. He found his first foster father—couturier William Urbano, known in the city as Willi de Legazpi—who gave him his birth documents. Tarik decided he would start all over again.

He intimated: “In the past, I was always in search of my life’s meaning. I had so many questions and found very few answers. Suddenly, it dawned on me that one way to fix my life is to be at peace with my past. So with only P500 in my pocket and nothing else, I took a bus bound for Bicol, which I consider my home. I discovered that my hatred for my past was not justified, and that my past was not to blame for everything that happened to me. In Bicol, I fell in love with the place, with the people, and with a girl. I soon got married.”

These days, Tarik has his hands full with several jobs that keep him busy. He spends three days in Manila and four days in Bicol, where he chairs an organization that provides research services to call centers, as well as human resource, training and consultancy services related to online and other e-business services. “We provide jobs for fellow Filipinos, allowing them to earn substantially without the need for them to go abroad,” he added.

What did he learn from his past that radically changed his life for the better?

Shared Tarik: “I learned that life is not perfect, nor is it fair. I realized that I could not go on forever hating my past and blaming it for the monster I’ve become. Instead, I could start embracing my wounds and learn to play the cards that I was dealt with. Life now has more meaning for me. I am now able to understand fully why ‘bad’ things in the past had to happen.”

(Author’s note: For personal reasons, I cannot divulge the name of Tarik’s mother, who makes it a point to watch classical concerts on the island. The first time I saw her, she was watching a voice recital in a civic hall in Catanduanes. She entered at the exact time soprano Luz Morete was singing “Awit Ng Gabi ni Sisa” by Felipe Padilla de Leon which was inspired by the madwoman in Rizal’s “Noli Me Tangere.”

She entered with flowers and vines in her hair and wearing clothes made of handkerchiefs she had found in the church after every mass. Tenor Gary del Rosario once paused in his rehearsal when he realized that Tarik’s mother—gawking at the concert hall windows—knew the melody of the German lieder he was singing. For all the sadness she went through—a missing son and a lost love—I now know why Tarik’s mother savors every poetic line of Schubert’s Serenade. But that’s another story.)