August 19, 2025
MANILA – Having a seven-year-old child but struggling to find work after finishing only two years of high school drove Joey De Leon (not to be confused with the comedian) to join a gang, scouting the bustling streets of Cubao for unwitting passersby to steal from.
One day in 1996, the gang routine took a fatal turn when De Leon killed their victim.
He was found guilty of robbery with homicide and committed to the New Bilibid Prison in 1997.
But, behind bars, De Leon found a program to finally finish his studies, an initiative of the Bureau of Corrections and its private sector partners.
He graduated in 2005 with a bachelor’s degree in commerce and entrepreneurship.
He also discovered his talent with a brush, some paint and a blank canvas.
With some of his fellow inmates, also in 2005, he formed a group of artists that sold 2-by-3-foot paintings for P500 to P1,000 each to visitors and private schools’ outreach missions.
The proceeds were used to fund the inmates’ needs, and any extra money was sent to their families.
In 2008, De Leon walked free but still felt a shadow looming over his head.
“Iba ang tingin sa’yo ng tao ‘pag sinabi mong ex-convict ka eh,” he said in an interview with INQUIRER.net. “Ang hindi nila alam, takot din kami. Takot din kami gumalaw, kasi, syempre, ‘di ba? Yung stigma.”
(People view you differently when you say you’re an ex-convict. What they don’t know is that we’re also scared. We’re also scared to move because, of course, right? The stigma.)
After regaining freedom, he first put his entrepreneurship degree to use by opening and running a junk shop until his eldest child finished studies.
De Leon then started working as an investigator for his barangay in Quezon City while also continuing to paint and sell his work to make ends meet.
When more of his fellow inmates also finished their sentences, they reconnected to better support one another in their reintegration into society.
In 2021, they formalized this network by founding the Bagong Buhay (New Life) Group of Artists, a non-profit aimed at promoting art education among persons deprived of liberty (PDLs) and assisting them after they served their time.
De Leon is currently the group’s president.
“(Gusto namin) ipakita rin sa society na ito kami, tao kami, ‘di ba? Kaya naming magbago. Kaya namin ipakita at kaya naming maging productive at law-abiding citizen. Pagbigyan niyo lang kami,” he explained.
(We want to show society that this is who we are, right? We can change. We want to show that we can be productive and law-abiding citizens. Just give us a chance.)
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‘Inside, there are many talented people’
“Sa loob kasi, napakaraming magagaling. Doon sila nahubog eh,” De Leon stressed.
(Inside, there are many talented people. It’s because that’s where they were forged.)
Speaking with INQUIRER.net, he introduced two of his fellow Bagong Buhay artists: Leo Eroja and Buddy Navidad.
Eroja was jailed for robbery with physical injuries in Cebu in 1996, a fate that he said was “Dala ng kahirapan saka barkada, bisyo na rin, kapusukan kaya nagawa ko ‘yung mga bagay na yon.”
(Brought about by poverty, by peer pressure as well as vices and anger. That’s why I did those things.)
He was 19 at the time.
Five years later, Eroja was sentenced and transferred to Bilibid, where – like De Leon – he finished his basic education through the prison’s program.
He then took a vocational course inside the correctional facility, during which he learned metal arts and tombstone making.
Eroja then joined De Leon’s artists’ group inside Bilibid.
“Dahil sa arts, kaya ako naka-survive sa [Muntinlupa] eh. Malaking bagay yung arts na natutunan ko siya. Na-practice ko siya dun,” he stressed.
(Because of the arts, I survived in Muntinlupa. It was a big deal that I learned the arts. I practiced it there.)
And when he regained his freedom in 2010, Eroja immediately found his footing again in society.
“Bago ako makulong, mahirap na ang buhay ko eh. So paglabas ko, aral na ako eh, mayroon na akong natutunan at mayroon akong balak,” he explained.
(Before I was imprisoned, my life was already hard. So, when I got out and I was already educated, I learned a lot and I already had plans.)
After a brief homecoming to Cebu, he returned to Manila to be a delivery courier in 2011 then a taxi driver in 2013.
Then in 2021, he joined De Leon as one of the founding members of the Bagong Buhay group.
Navidad was arrested in Quezon City in 1992 over what he claimed to be false charges of robbery with rape.
At the time, he was a 28-year-old jeepney driver who had only completed fourth grade and had a live-in partner.
“Dinampot nila ako. Natutulog ako sa bahay. Nasa bangko lang ako sa tindahan ng tiyahin ko. May karinderya kasi yung tiyahin ko. Dun lang ako, natulog. Nadaanan ako. Ako ngayon ang dinampot,” he said.
(They just took me. I was sleeping at home. I was just on a bench by my aunt’s store. She had an eatery. I was just there, asleep. They passed by me and just decided to arrest me.)
Navidad explained that his case stalled when the judge died and was replaced, prompting him to take his legal battle to a higher court, where he was handed a guilty verdict.
“Walang ebidensya. ‘Di naman na-rape ang complainant pero minolestiya daw. Walang ano kasi negative naman sa medical. Wala naman daw sperm ng lalaki. Nagtataka ako, bakit?” he said.
(No evidence. The complainant was not raped, but she claimed to be. There was no evidence because the medical test showed it was negative. There was no sperm. I was wondering, why?)
He had his theory: “Trinabaho ang papel ko, masentensyahan.”
(My papers were altered so that I would be sentenced.)
In 1997, Navidad was transferred to Bilibid.
He tried appealing his case in his first few years in prison but to no avail.
“’Di rin naasikaso ang apela. Na-abandon lang. Sabi ko, ‘Wala eh. Withdraw na lang ‘yan.’ Ayan na yan eh. Sabi ko, ‘Tanggapin ko na lang, kahit hindi ako ang gumawa niyan,’” he said.
(The appeal was not attended to. It was just abandoned. I said, ‘It’s over. Let’s just withdraw it.’ That’s it. I said, ‘I should just accept it, even though I wasn’t the one who did it.’)
Like Eroja, Navidad joined De Leon’s group of PDL-artists while inside Bilibid.
But, Navidad’s presence in the group was short-lived when he was transferred to a penal colony in Iwahig, Palawan in 2007 to be a helper for farmers, office workers and hospital patients.
When he was freed in November 2023, the Bagong Buhay group immediately reached out.
“Tinawagan na agad ako. Doon agad ako sa kanila. Yung gumawa agad ako ng painting, wood burning,” Navidad said.
(They called me right away. And I went straight to them. There, I did paintings, wood burnings.)
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Recidivism
However, for De Leon, other ex-cons were not so lucky.
‘Yung iba, nakakapasok (sa trabaho) pero ‘pag nalamang ex-convict, tinatanggal. Discrimination kaagad, ‘di ba? Ayun ang nagiging dahilan [kung bakit] bumalik na naman siya. ‘Ayaw niyo akong bigyan ng pagkakataon? Balik na lang ako rito,’” De Leon explained.
(Others get to enter work but, once they’re discovered to be an ex-convict, they’re removed. That’s discrimination, right? That becomes the reason why they’d just go back to prison. ‘You don’t want to give me a chance? I’ll just go back here.)
“Hindi sila mabigyan ng second chance,” he stressed.
(They just aren’t given a second chance.)
The phenomenon of ex-convicts returning to prison is called “recidivism,” according to Illinois-based Filipino criminal justice professor Raymund Narag.
The Philippines’ recidivism rate stands at 47.9 percent, according to 4Ps party-list Rep. JC Abalos in his explanatory note proposing a law to expunge the record of low-level criminals to aid their reintegration into society in 2023.
Similarly, a study by De La Salle University Dasmariñas and Laguna State Polytechnic University researchers showed that recidivism was at 41.4 percent in the Metro Manila District Jail in 2022.
Narag said programs for inmates and ex-PDLs to engage in art and make a living through it can help boost their rehabilitation and reintegration.
He particularly said art helped PDLs regain their sense of self-confidence.
“Having programs like these na tinuturuan mo sila, binabalik mo sa kanila yung kumpiyansa where, in the process, nare-recognize yung efforts nila and nai-introduce sila sa mga tamang tao,” Narag told INQUIRER.net.
(Having programs like these wherein you teach them, you bring back their confidence where, in the process, they recognize their efforts and you introduce them to the right people.)
The criminal justice professor added that endeavors like the arts help combat what he called “criminogenic thinking,” defined as the set of thought patterns and belief systems that encourage criminal behavior.
“Kapag ikaw ay nagdr-drawing, ang mga naririnig mong scripts ay positive o conventional scripts: na ikaw ay tao na mayroong kapasidad na magbagong-buhay, na ikaw ay mayroong skills na hindi mo pa lang nata-tap, na natutulog lang sa likod ng iyong pag-iisip,” he said.
(When you are drawing, the scripts you hear are positive or conventional: that you are a person with a capacity to turn a new leaf, that you are a person with skills you have yet to tap, that have yet to be awakened inside your mind.)
Likewise, De Leon credited the formation of their artists’ group for providing a support system for himself, Eroja and Navidad so they could continue on their path of rehabilitation and reintegration.
“Mabuti na lang, buo na yung grupo noong lumaya siya, ‘di ba? ‘Dito ka na.’ Kaya nag-continue ‘yung kanyang ano sa art. Pero kung hindi, wala pa iyong grupo, wala. Wala siya,” De Leon stressed.
(It’s just good that the group was already formed when they got freed, right? ‘Come with us.’ That’s why they continued pursuing art. But if not and the group didn’t exist, nothing. They’d be nothing.)
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‘Teach them to fish’
While Narag commended De Leon’s groups inside and outside Bilibid, he stressed that those initiatives were led by the PDLs themselves.
“Hindi katulad sa ibang bansa na ang ganitong efforts ay more institutionalized ang support,” the criminal justice professor explained.
(It’s not like in other countries where the support for these efforts are more institutionalized.)
He added that, in Bagong Buhay’s case, the group was fortunate to get support from the prison head, saying “Hindi pa siya institutional kundi individual efforts pa ng isang superintendent.”
(It’s not institutional yet but rather the individual efforts of a singular superintendent.)
As for the group, De Leon said Bagong Buhay was looking forward to the second annual edition of the National PDL Art Competition.
At least 180 PDLs from various jails and correctional facilities across the country participated in the first National PDL Art Competition last year.
Several of the pieces from the competition’s winners, finalists and entries as well as works from the Bagong Buhay group were sold at the Leon Gallery in its “Pinta ng Pag-asa” (Paint of Hope) auction, with one artwork going for P500,000.
The proceeds from the sold competition entries went to the PDL-artists and their families, while 15 percent of the profit from the Bagong Buhay group’s works were allocated to the organization’s funding.
De Leon also shared that his group still routinely collaborated with local government units, the courts and correctional facilities – under the condition that they get funding and support only by selling their artwork.
“Gano’n din kasi ginagawa namin sa mga PDL. ‘Di ka namin bibigyan ng pera rito. Hindi ka namin bibigyan ng isda, tutulungan ka naming mangisda,” De Leon said.
(That’s what we do with PDLs. We don’t just give them money. We won’t give them fish, but we’ll teach them to fish.)