When Francis Joseph ‘Kiko’ Aquino Dee was in second grade, his classmates began pointing out something unusual about him.
‘Is your grandfather the one on the P500 bill?’ they would ask.
Dee was born in 1991, eight years after his grandfather, former Sen. Benigno ‘Ninoy’ Aquino Jr., was assassinated.
By then, Ninoy’s face had already become a familiar part of everyday Filipino life, appearing especially on the P500 bill. But for Dee, the man on the banknote was also simply his grandfather, ‘Lolo Ninoy.’
‘At that age … you don’t really know what a normal ‘lolo’ is supposed to be like,’ Dee, now a political activist in his own right, told the Inquirer.
Hero
His understanding of Ninoy came in layers.
History came first. He knew his grandfather was a hero who died fighting the dictatorship of Ferdinand Marcos Sr. Within the Aquino family, however, that larger-than-life persona was not often discussed in great detail.
Dee, 34, is the son of Victoria Elisa ‘Viel’ Aquino Dee, of the five children of Ninoy and former President Corazon ‘Cory’ Aquino.
Outside the family’s endearing memories of Ninoy, much of what Dee learned was pieced together from his own studies and public remembrances of the opposition leader’s martyrdom.
It was only after taking up political science and becoming active with the Ninoy and Cory Aquino Foundation that he began taking a closer look at his grandfather’s life and how his story could still be told today.
Banknote redesign
As the country marks Ninoy Aquino Day on Aug. 21, he is being remembered at a time when his image may be gradually and literally going out of circulation from one of the most ordinary things Filipinos handle every day: the P500 bill.
For Dee and historians Xiao Chua and Larah Del Mundo, it is part of a larger framing of how Ninoy’s legacy has been preserved across generations.
His portrait first appeared on the banknote in 1987, four years after his death and a year after the 1986 Edsa People Power Revolution. A redesign in 2010 featured him with his widow Cory now by his side.
In December 2024, however, the Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas introduced a polymer P500 note showcasing Philippine biodiversity-and no more images of patriots and past Presidents. Same with the other peso denominations.
But for almost four decades before the new look, the P500 bill offered Filipinos an everyday encounter with Ninoy. It even became part of street lingo: ‘Do you have a ‘Ninoy’? (May Ninoy ka ba?)’
Chua said that kind of exposure and ubiquity was significant for it allowed ordinary citizens to ‘access history’ without having to open books or visit museums.
‘Soul of the nation’
He said he once surveyed about 40 to 50 urban poor leaders about their views on history and their heroes. Many of the personalities who topped the list were figures whose portraits appeared on Philippine currency, including Jose Rizal, Emilio Aguinaldo, Andres Bonifacio, Ninoy and Corazon Aquino.
Chua said he was not opposed to having native flora and fauna celebrated on banknotes. But removing historical figures from something as commonplace as money, he said, makes history less accessible.
‘What we put in the paper money is the soul of the nation,’ Chua told the Inquirer.
Memory carried by people
Del Mundo, an assistant professor in the Department of History at the University of the Philippines Diliman, said the placement of Ninoy’s image on the peso bill reflected the political mood after the 1986 Edsa People Power Revolution.
Her master’s thesis examined how the Aquino assassination was told and retold from 1983 to 2016.
The period after Edsa was marked by euphoria over the end of the Marcos regime and the restoration of democracy, Del Mundo said. Ninoy’s death, Cory’s rise to the presidency and the revolution were closely connected in the public imagination.
The decision to place Ninoy on the banknote was part of broader efforts after Edsa to memorialize him and the events surrounding his killing, she said.
But the way of remembering has not remained fixed. Del Mundo’s research found that the narratives of the assassination changed over time and differed depending on who was telling the story-the government, media, opposition groups, or the academe.
She described them as ‘carrier groups,’ or people and institutions that convey historical memory from one generation to another.
Ninoy’s significance was especially contested after the initial post-Edsa euphoria faded, Del Mundo said. Narratives critical of the Aquino family emerged alongside efforts to portray Ninoy and the Aquinos negatively.
The media, however, remained one of the more consistent carriers of Ninoy’s memory, she said.
The assassination and the public hunger for information and accountability also helped create space for ‘alternative media’ during the last years of the Marcos regime, Del Mundo recalled.
She cited the Philippine Daily Inquirer as an example, noting how the paper emerged during turbulent period that followed the murder of Aquino on Aug. 21, 1983. The Inquirer’s maiden issue as a daily came out on Dec. 9, 1985.
Del Mundo said the continued presence-or absence-of historical figures in public life also depends on which institutions choose to keep talking about them.
The government, she said, is one of the most powerful agents of memory. Even an apparent decision not to commemorate or mention a historical figure can affect how visible that person remains in public consciousness.
A hero, but also a grandpa
One of the stories Dee remembers about Ninoy had little to do with politics. During his exile in the United States, Ninoy once bought a large amount of cat food because it was on sale-even though the family did not have a cat. He planned to give it away to neighbors.
For Dee, it was one of the stories that made his lolo look more like just another average Juan. If Ninoy were alive today, he might be living in a house cluttered by items bought online, the grandson said in jest.
He said he only began to think about Ninoy differently in college, after hearing classmates talk about their grandparents as their best friends-something he never experienced at all.
As to Cory, what he remembers most is also not her political life but her being a grandmother who would get angry when the grandkids fight and become unruly.
Keeping Aug. 21 alive
The Aquino family continues to commemorate Ninoy’s death anniversary with a Mass at the Aquino mausoleum at Manila Memorial Park in Parañaque City.
Dee said the family has tried to keep the observance consistent and simple: 10 a.m. every Aug. 21, ‘rain or shine.’
When Cory was still alive, she hosted the gathering and delivered a short message. Later, other members of the family took on the role. After the death in 2021 of the Aquinos’ only son, former President Benigno ‘Noynoy’ Aquino III, the younger generation began taking its turn.
Dee now worries that in removing historical figures from everyday objects, such as peso bills, ‘you lose a very subtle yet effective way of keeping history present in the daily lives of people.’
‘History becomes something that only exists in textbooks or museums,’ he said, ‘rather than something you hold in your hand every time you pay at the store.’
Dee’s concern is not that Ninoy will immediately sink into irrelevance. ‘My fear is that, over time, it makes it easier for people to forget (about our heroes) or for the memory of their sacrifices to be slowly erased from the public consciousness.’
But in Chua’s view, public recognition changes with the needs and concerns of each generation.
Ninoy’s story, he said, continues to resonate because of what he came to represent: the willingness to risk one’s life for democracy, human rights and the country.
For Chua, storybooks, books, films, documentaries and other forms of popular culture can continue to introduce historical figures to future generations.
‘Let’s keep on talking about them, whether negative or positive. At least we keep them alive,’ he said. ‘Fortunate is a nation for which heroes have sacrificed their lives.’