Life of kerima polotan tuvera short

In high school, four decades before I became a senior citizen, I turned to three writers as models of good writing: Kerima Polotan, Gilda Cordero Fernando and Carmen Guerrero Nakpil.

Of the three, Nakpil was the eldest (born 1922), followed by Polotan (born 1925) and Fernando (born 1930).

I was extra close to Nakpil and Fernando for many years before their demise.

Nakpil gave me a deep sense of history even as we shared a common love for music.

Fernando referred to me as Mr. Taray (she reads all my music reviews) but we shared laughter like we had been friends for ages (I was born in 1948 and she was born in 1930).

I could share raucous laughter with Nakpil and Fernando but I did not dare cultivate extra familiarity with Polotan.

With Polotan, I kept the strict editor-writer relationship. In my mind, she was a goddess of writing and I regard her high up there on her literary pedestal.

I was drawn to her writings as I was later drawn to goddesses of music. (Polotan’s daughter Mariam was a Cecile Licad fan. In one concert at the Philamlife Theater, I introduced her to Licad and how happy she looked. I was still looking at her for a long time and realized she looked exactly like a younger version of her mother.)

In my short stint with Kit Tatad’s Department of Public Information (DPI) shortly after my first job with Graphic Magazine ended with martial law, our DPI Bicol office sponsored a journalism workshop and invited an array of speakers.

First in my list of speakers was Kerima Polotan even as I knew of her earlier unsavory encounter with then DPI secretary, Kit Tatad.

I am in awe of Polotan as a short story writer but I am an equally fanatic follower of her journalistic output in the Philippines Free Press in the early 60s.

I agree with what Armando Manalo said of Polotan as a journalist. He declared once: “Our own view is that as fine a short story writer as Miss Polotan is, she is ten times a better

In 1952, “The Virgin,” written by Kerima Polotan, won first prize in the Philippines Free Press Literary Contest and in the Carlos Palanca Awards.

He went to where Miss Mijares sat, a tall, big man, walking with an economy of movement, graceful and light, a man who knew his body and used it well. He sat in the low chair worn decrepit by countless other interviewers and laid all ten fingerprints carefully on the edge of her desk. She pushed a sheet towards him, rolling a pencil along with it. While he read the question and wrote down his answers, she glanced at her watch and saw that it was ten. “I shall be coming back quickly,” she said, speaking distinctly in the dialect (you were never sure about these people on their first visit, if they could speak English, or even write at all, the poor were always proud and to use the dialect with them was an act of charity), “you will wait for me.”

As she walked to the cafeteria, Miss Mijares thought how she could easily have said, Please wait for me, or will you wait for me? But years of working for the placement section had dulled the edges of her instinct for courtesy. She spoke now peremptorily, with an abruptness she knew annoyed the people about her.

When she talked with the jobless across her desk, asking them the damning questions that completed their humiliation, watching pale tongues run over dry lips, dirt crusted handkerchiefs flutter in trembling hands, she was filled with an impatience she could not understand. Sign here, she had said thousands of times, pushing the familiar form across, her finger held to a line, feeling the impatience grow at sight of the man or woman tracing a wavering “x” or laying the impress of a thumb. Invariably, Miss Mijares would turn away to touch the delicate edge of the handkerchief she wore on her breast.

Where she sat alone at one of the cafeteria tables, Miss Mijares did not look 34. She was slight, almost bony, but she had learned early how to dr

Filipino fiction writer, essayist and journalist

Kerima Polotan-Tuvera (December 16, 1925 – August 19, 2011) was a Filipino fiction writer, essayist, and journalist. Some of her stories were published under the pseudonym "Patricia S. Torres".

Personal life

Born in Jolo, Sulu, she was christened Putli Kerima. Her father was an army colonel, and her mother taught home economics. Due to her father's frequent transfers in assignment, she lived in various places and studied in the public schools of Pangasinan, Tarlac, Laguna, Nueva Ecija and Rizal.

She graduated from the Far Eastern University Girls' High School. In 1944, she enrolled in the University of the Philippines School of Nursing, but the Battle of Manila put a halt to her studies. In 1945, she transferred schools to Arellano University, where she attended the writing classes of Teodoro M. Locsin and edited the first issue of the Arellano Literary Review. She worked with Your Magazine, This Week and the Junior Red Cross Magazine.

In 1949, she married newsman Juan Capiendo Tuvera, a childhood friend and fellow writer, with whom she had 10 children, among them the fictionist Katrina Tuvera.

Writings during the Martial Law years

Between the years 1966 and 1986, her husband served as the executive assistant and speechwriter of then-President Ferdinand Marcos. Her husband's work drew her into the charmed circle of the Marcoses. It was during this time (1969) that Polotan-Tuvera penned the only officially approved biography of the First Lady Imelda Marcos, Imelda Romualdez Marcos: a biography of the First Lady of the Philippines.

During the years of martial law in the Philippines, she founded and edited the officially approved FOCUS Magazine, as well as the Evening Post newspaper.

Works and awards

Her 1952 short story, (the widely antholo

Kerima Polotan-Tuvera (1925-2011) was a prominent Filipino writer, known for her significant contributions to Philippine literature. Born in Manila, she was the daughter of a prominent businessman, which afforded her access to education and the arts from an early age. Polotan-Tuvera pursued her education at the University of the Philippines, where she began to cultivate her talents in writing. She gained recognition for her short stories and novels, where she often explored themes of identity, gender, and social issues in the context of Philippine society. Her works are marked by their keen psychological insight and nuanced character portrayals. One of her most celebrated stories is "The Virgin," which delves into the complex inner life of a woman navigating societal expectations and personal desires. Throughout her literary career, Polotan-Tuvera received several accolades, including the prestigious Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature. In addition to her writing, she was also a journalist and worked in various capacities within the media. Kerima Polotan-Tuvera's legacy endures through her contributions to literature and her ability to capture the complexities of the Filipino experience. Her works continue to be studied and appreciated for their depth and relevance. She passed away in 2011, leaving behind a rich literary legacy that remains influential today.