“We need to look at any accepted behavior that seems to need secrecy and silence to thrive, and take it out of the shadows into the open”
Hans Montenegro, Sex abuse survivor
(Last of two parts)
It was a media circus, recounted Hans Montenegro of the time he figured in a video recording that showed his talent manager molesting him and other young men in his agency.
“It was definitely tough,” the former model said, recalling how movie scribes jostled for juicy sound bites while politicians were grandstanding for a piece of the action, as well.
Like most curious 13-year-olds, he had accepted an invitation to go to an audition for a possible role in a TV commercial. It was in one of those video tape recording sessions where his talent manager took advantage of the teenager’s naïveté.
In the guise of a screen test, the talent manager performed lewd acts on him and other male models in front of a camera that, contrary to what the young men were told, had been turned on all the time.
The salacious video made the rounds of several talk shows and news programs in 1996 — a far less enlightened time when it came to the rights of the sexually abused.
He was already a college graduate when the scandal broke out, Montenegro recalled.
Fortunately, his mother’s “protective instinct kicked in.” She was not about to allow her son to be used as a pawn in that circus and forthwith sent him to Australia, the former model said.
Montenegro had initially planned to pursue a postgraduate degree in psychology but he eventually moved to San Francisco where he finished his studies at the Santa Clara University.
Back in the news
Sadly, nothing came out of the controversy, although the following year, the molester again figured in the news, this time for attempting to pimp one of his wards, Angelica Jones, who was then 14 years old.
He had asked her to attend a fashion show, but had offered her instead to a Chinese national for P45,000. She refused and told her mother, who then filed a sexual harassment case against the manager.
Given the manager’s soiled reputation and Jones being a minor, the case reached the Senate and the courts in 1997. Jones won the case.
The molester, meanwhile, fled to his hometown in the Visayas, ran for councilor and won. He is reportedly back in the modeling scene, still using the same name that brought him notoriety.
Things had not been as easy for Montenegro, however, with the scandal hounding him still. “If you were not guilty, you shouldn’t have left,” some people still tell him.
“I was actually blamed for leaving,” he said, adding that he eventually realized that a victim’s silence was a molester’s most potent weapon. “Predators always count on the fact that their victims would be too embarrassed to tell the truth,” he explained. “The longer the victims wait, the more they start blaming themselves.”
That was exactly what he had experienced.
“I thought I was fairly intelligent … so why did I not stop that man from molesting me? The biggest lesson from this is to bring it out in the open immediately,” he volunteered.
He is fully aware, however, how challenging it is for those who experienced sexual abuse to speak up, considering how “cruel” society can be.
“Questions about the [sexual abuse survivor’s] character and motives become the main issue, instead of the abuse itself and the perpetrators,” he said.
Pepsi Paloma
The tragic fate of Pepsi Paloma was instructive. Paloma
(real name: Delia Smith) was barely 13 when her mother, Lydia Duenas, introduced her to talent manager Rey dela Cruz, who included her in his stable of “softdrink beauties,” among them bold starlets Coca Nicolas and Sarsi Emmanuelle.
About a year later, while promoting one of her movies, Paloma met three TV and movie comedians who allegedly invited her out, drugged her drinks and raped her.
YOUNG AND HELPLESS Pepsi Paloma —Photo from video48.blogspot.com
The three eventually apologized on TV but did not specify what acts they committed. Considering that Paloma was only 14 then, the alleged offenses could have drawn the death penalty.
Reports have it that Paloma was eventually coerced by a now prominent politician into withdrawing her case.
Said singer-songwriter Kat Alano, who was herself raped by a “dancer-comedian” when she was 19: “Everyone knows the story of Pepsi Paloma in the industry and how she never got justice.”
Three years later, in May 1985, Paloma was found dead in her apartment, a rope around her neck. Despite police pronouncing it a suicide, questions still surround the circumstances of her death.
Montenegro faced similar pressures when he returned to the country from the United States in 2001 and told his story in a talk show. “People found a way to criticize [my revelation]. They asked: ‘Why only now?’ Other people I know tried to come forward, but ended up being bullied by friends and supporters of the perpetrator.”
He can only hope that things have changed for the better since then. “I am sure a lot more talent managers and parents [have become] more particular about how TV networks or movie production houses interact with their talents, especially children. But there are a lot of other aspiring talents who do not have the benefit of having managers or parents who can accompany them everywhere.”
In 2001, Montenegro sought the help of a psychologist “to talk out the unresolved stuff and focus more on the ‘what now,’ and how to live with this going forward.”
It is quite fitting that Montenegro would eventually become an expert in human resources—a field where interpersonal relations are scrutinized and fine-tuned for the benefit of everyone in the workplace. He now works as an executive in a multinational company and was based in Hong Kong for some time, before returning to the country.
So how does his past inform his present?
‘Equality and diversity’
“As a person, it is part of my past that I keep there,” Montenegro said. “As an HR professional, I make sure to champion all the values of equality and diversity in whatever organization I work in. As a parent [to three kids], I make sure to educate my children on what situations to avoid and how they can protect themselves.”
He feels hopeful that the #MeToo and Time’s Up movements would also prosper in the Philippine context. “I totally agree that it’s about time [to stop the sex predators],” Montenegro said. “Sadly, it’s worse in Manila, based on what I know of the [entertainment] industry.”
The financial struggles of some show biz aspirants make them vulnerable to exploitation, he said. “They are either so desperate for their big break or ignorant of their personal rights that they would tolerate and accept abuse just to attain their dream. And the people who commit and perpetrate the abuse know it.”
He added: “Whenever you have people who see show business as a way out of poverty, you will also have a group of people willing to exploit that fact for their own personal gain or sick desires.”
The best way to combat this inequity, he said, is “to shine a spotlight on the ugly side of the business.”
But that, Montenegro said, “applies to any industry … We need to look at any process or accepted behavior that seems to need secrecy and silence to thrive, and take it out of the shadows into the open.”
Agreed Alano: “There needs to be a united front against rape and abuse in the industry. We cannot effectively deal with rape if there are people still willing to cover up for these crimes.”
But she remains upbeat, Alano said, adding that the #MeToo movement “needs to flourish” in the Philippines. “As a nation, we have shown time and time again that if we rally together we can do powerful things. We need to stop waiting for the rest of the world to lead the way on matters such as this and take it into our own hands.”
As her short video so plainly stated: “Oras Na.” (It’s about time.)