BEFORE the rush of All Saints’ and All Souls’ days, when families flock to cemeteries with candles, flowers, and prayers, 58-year-old Fernando Bugna is already hard at work among the tombs of Tanza Cemetery in Iloilo City.
For the past 20 years, Fernando has made his living cleaning and repainting graves — a humble yet steady livelihood that has quietly sustained his family.
“I’ve been here for a long time,” Fernando said, pausing to lean on his paintbrush. “I met my wife here in Tanza, and it’s also how I managed to send my child to school. This place has really become a part of my life.”
Even before the Undas season begins, Fernando’s regular customers — many of whom he has served for years — leave instructions for him to clean or repaint their loved ones’ graves. “Almost everyone here is already my regular client,” he said with a proud smile. “People often ask me how much I charge, but I can’t really give one price. It depends on them. Some families pay extra out of generosity, especially if I’ve worked for them for a long time. But when someone’s short on budget, I adjust. We talk about it — I don’t want anyone to feel burdened.”
For Fernando, the job is not just about earning a living; it’s also about trust and respect. Many clients have come to know him personally, often referring him to relatives and friends who need help maintaining graves.
“A week before All Saints’ Day, things start getting busy,” he said. “My regulars start calling or dropping by to ask me to clean and paint. Some even refer new customers. It’s tiring, but I’m grateful. It means I’ll have a little extra income this season.”
As he wipes dust from tombstones, trims weeds, and repaints faded names, Fernando moves with familiarity and ease. The cemetery, to him, is not a place of fear, but of quiet routine. Asked whether he has ever experienced anything supernatural during his late-night work, he laughed heartily.
“I’ve never felt or seen anything strange here,” he said. “People always say they feel something — that spirits make themselves known. But maybe they just don’t dare to show up around me. Maybe the ghosts are the ones who are afraid of me!” he added with a grin.
For Fernando, laughter and lightheartedness keep him company through long days under the sun and occasional nights under flickering candlelight. He doesn’t see the cemetery as a haunting place but as a space of remembrance, livelihood, and quiet dignity.
“This is my work,” he said softly. “And I’m proud of it. I make sure every resting place looks cared for because even the dead deserve respect.”
This Undas 2025, families will come and go at Tanza Cemetery, bringing flowers, lighting candles, and saying prayers. Behind every cleaned tomb and freshly painted name is the steady hand of a man who has spent half his life tending to the resting places of others, ensuring that memory — and love — never fades./PN
