The tricks Joseph Calata plays
The plot thickens every day. It’s as if we’re watching a new Netflix series.
Truth is, indeed, stranger than fiction. I’m wondering how it will end. Will we see the protagonist – he with the heavily gelled spiky hair – expelled from the stock exchange for good and slapped with appropriate legal actions?
Or by some twist of fate, will Joseph Calata, in his trademark suit and Gucci scarf, end up counting more money than he already has?
Calata is at the center of a stock market scandal. And every day, something new is unfolding.
Perpetually disqualified
Just last week, the Philippine Stock Exchange delisted his agribusiness company, Calata Corp. from the bourse and forever banned him from joining any listed company as director or officer.
Calata is appealing the decision, saying there is no rule that allows perpetual disqualification. The PSE counted 55 violations committed by Calata. It also said the company tried to shore up its share price when it did not update the public on a planned P65 billion casino project in Cebu.
In August last year, Calata announced he would team up with American companies for the project.
At least one investor bought 300,000 Calata shares upon hearing of the plan, PSE sources told me. I am sure there are others who lost money, too. Calata’s foreign partners cited growing terrorism in the region as reasons for putting the project on hold.
The Securities and Exchange Commission also filed a criminal complaint against Calata and the company’s directors for allegedly misleading the public regarding the casino project.
His independent director Edmund Solilapsi has resigned.
Indeed, one of Bulacan’s sons, hero to farmers and hog raisers, is now a villain to investors.
After I wrote about him last week, I received letters from people who shared information on their hero-turned-villain. He has been playing tricks on his investors, they claim.
One investor from Bulacan, for instance, said Calata’s warehouses in the province were empty and didn’t really have any poultry feed stock. But Calata said this simply meant the inventory was moving.
Another said Calata was selling the company’s assets to cash in while shoring up share prices.
When I asked him about these allegations, he declined to comment, saying his lawyers are already drafting the necessary response to regulators.
How about his failure to disclose material information to the stock exchange?
He repeatedly instructed his secretary to file the appropriate documents, he said.
But the clueless secretary misunderstood his instructions and filed the papers in the filing cabinet instead of doing a regulatory filing with the PSE -- or so Calata claimed. Surreal isn’t it? As I said, this is like a Netflix series. In one of his press briefings, Calata said people are out to get him. The PSE, he said, is like an old boys club – you’re in or not. How Calata’s story will end is still anyone’s guess. Here in the land of mayhem, you never really know how things will turn out. The daily life in this country has become even more bizarre than what we see on television.
We’ve become a long-running Netflix series, sometimes even stranger than Stranger Things – a human rights lawyer sides with a proud human rights violator; old oligarchs are brought to their knees while Davao-based tycoons are raking it in; we’re messianic about solving the drug problem but the daughter of a convicted drug queen is guarded by our own police; we can’t solve poverty but we’ll roll out the red carpet for world leaders.
It’s indeed as surreal as it can get. The scriptwriter must be high on drugs.
Calata’s story, I’m sure, is no exception.
One rainy night last week he finally agreed to meet with me. We met in a swanky lounge where businessmen hatch deals and where gossip flows endlessly.
I found him sitting like royalty on a velvet green highback accent chair wearing sunglasses. It was past nine in the evening.
He had not eaten yet, so I watched as he ate tinola, served to his liking with red, hot chili peppers.
I wasn’t hungry, so I just munched on some olives and cheese. Love songs played in the background. Pops Fernandez walked in and they exchanged hellos.
At one point, I gave him my card. He took it. And in an instant, Calata pulled off a remarkable sleight of hand – my card disappeared right before my eyes. And then it was back. I asked him to do it one more time. He indulged me and with his right hand, performed the conjuring trick once more. My card disappeared again.
It’s one of those mind-bending magic tricks I used to see in the circus when I was a child. “I didn’t know you’re a magician,” I said in jest. He laughed. I, too, laughed in disbelief not so much at the trick -- but over the fact that someone in deep shit could be so carefree and nonchalant.
“Aren’t you even scared you’re in so much trouble?” I asked.
Waxing philosophical, Calata said that life is like a movie and that someday, everything will just pan out.
I agree. But in the meantime, I think he would need a good dose of real magic to get himself out of his troubled situation.
The 37-year old billionaire, who rides a sleek black Cadillac Escalade, once dreamt of becoming the country’s richest man.
But one’s fate can change so quickly in this land of mayhem. In Calata’s case, it may change even faster than he can style his hair in that classic pompadour way. We’ll have to wait and see. Don’t even blink. Iris Gonzales’s e-mail address is eyesgonzales@gmail.com.