Ma, is it okay if
we name him Kobe? We faced a lot of problems
after I gave birth to Kobe. It’s as if I was taking
summative tests or periodical exams
to assess if I would pass as a mother. I just kept telling myself… …that quitting
was not an option. The struggles Wilfred and I had
gone through while raising Kobe made me stronger. So, when we were blessed
with another son, I’ve become more responsible. I’ve become more protective
of my children. – Well-done!
– You shot the ball! Ma’am, Kobe’s a good boy.
He does well in school, too. He took after you. Teachers are really the best
at raising kids. Oh, come on.
It’s not like that. You don’t have to be a teacher
to raise your kids right. You just have to
instill discipline and practice good communication. You can’t just yell at them
when you’re angry! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! No! Stop it! No! Stop him! Stop him! – Save me! Save me!
– It’s not that bad. Wilfred and I believe that
it’s best for the kids to learn to do things on their own
while they’re still young. But, I also believe that there
is a right time for everything. Mom! Dad’s new motorcycle’s
awesome! It’s so fast! Fast? Why would you drive fast
when your son’s with you?! – It’s my turn now.
– Your turn? Pa, what is he talking about?! Just relax, Ma. What if you got into
an accident?! We never know
what could happen! Ma, they’re not babies anymore. So stop babying them. They’re grown-ups!
They’d need deodorant soon! Geez, Dad! But he’s right, Mom.
I’m a grown-up now. I’m no longer a baby. Grown-up? No way! You’re not even qualified
to get a driving license yet! Not yet! So, just get inside
and do your homework! I’m done with mine, Mom! – I did it at school.
– He’s free then. So, please. Let me. – What are you doing?
– Please let me. – Please.
– What do you want? – Let Dad teach me how to drive.
– No! You won’t be getting your way
even with puffy eyes. – Please.
– No! You can’t! – This isn’t funny!
– Dad! What about me? You’re no different. – I should be first.
– But, Mom! – Come on.
– You’re not going with them. – I’m the eldest.
– Goodness. Just let them be. They’re boys. Dad’s started the engine.
He’s driving it now. – Go, Kobe!
– You’re really pushing it! I’d like to see you try! – Dad, Mom said I should try.
– Okay. – I should try, then.
– Dad, it’s my turn next. – Kobe, let me try it too.
– Of course! – You got this, Kobe!
– Be careful, okay? – Go, Kobe!
– Bye, Mom! I love you! Wait. Safety first. – Be careful.
– Go, Dad! – Bye!
– Be careful! – The poor kid!
– Oh, my god! Oh, my god! We need to call for help. [PASSERSBY TALKING] Call for an ambulance, hurry! [PASSERSBY TALKING] Hurry, please! [PASSERSBY TALKING] [PORTENTIOUS MUSIC] Sit down, Mom. [SIGHS] There was a boy who
got into a motorcycle accident. He was seriously injured. He shouldn’t have
gone riding without a helmet. He’s actually the same age
as Kobe. They’re not strict about
wearing helmets here, Mom. In big cities, yes. Kobe, the laws
are implemented for your own safety, not to get the cops
off your back. Because laws are put in
place for the good everyone. Minors should not be
allowed to drive. The same goes for motorcycle
riders without helmets and those who fail to bring
their driver’s licenses. It’s as simple as that. I do feel sorry for the kid, but he only has himself
to blame. Mom, I’ll be turning 18
next year. That means I can get
a driving license. – Kobe!
– Don’t worry, Marizo. I’ll teach our son here
how to drive properly. – Dad?
– Got that, Kobe? Stop worrying, Mom! I won’t end up in an accident
like that boy. Besides, Dad’s right.
I’ll be extra careful. Kobe, please listen to me. You can’t drive yet! Kobe grew up an obedient
and disciplined child, so we had no problem giving
him anything he asked for. Except him wanting to drive
a motorcycle, that is – I never understood
why he that so badly. What for? Kobe, we already
talked about that. Let him. I know he’s
a conscientious driver. But he doesn’t have a license! – I’ll be careful, Mom!
– No! I already said no,
and that’s that. When will you
even trust me, Mom? I’m not a baby anymore, so stop treating me like one! …are you still mad? If I seem to be too strict
on you… …it’s only because I don’t
want you to be in harm’s way. It isn’t because
I don’t trust you… I’m sorry, Mom. By the way, we’re going
to Tacloban tomorrow.