COED MAGNET At the peak of his popularity, Hajji Alejandro earned the moniker “Kilabot ng mga Kolehiyala” (College girl’s dreamboat) as his sweet voice and charming looks left young female fans gushing and blushing. —CONTRIBUTED AND FILE PHOTOS

Hajji Alejandro, the iconic Original Pilipino Music (OPM) balladeer who, at the peak of his popularity in the 1970s, left legions of college girls gushing and blushing with his sweet singing and boy-next-door charm, died on April 21—two months after he was diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer. He was 70.

The singer’s death, confirmed by his family in a statement posted on social media yesterday, came just days after the passing of two other show biz giants: Pilita Corrales on April 12, and National Artist for Film and Broadcast Arts Nora Aunor four days later.

He is survived by his children Rachel, Barni, Ali, and Michelle Alejandro, who requested for privacy as they “grieve this tremendous loss.”

Alejandro was cremated on Tuesday, with a one-day wake today for family and close friends.

Alejandro’s good friend and colleague Marco Sison admitted that what happened had yet to fully sink in.

“Nakapagtataka. Ang bilis ng mga pangyayari,” Sison, seemingly referencing one of Alejandro’s signature hits, “Nakapagtataka,” told the Inquirer. “The reality is here. We have to accept it. But still, I can’t help but feel confused. Naiinis ako, nalulungkot. I’m in denial.”

Going solo

Born Angelito Alejandro on Dec. 26, 1954 in Alaminos, Pangasinan, Hajji started his career in 1973 as part of the popular musical group The Circus Band—of which he became part at the urging of member Basil Valdez, who saw the former perform in an orientation week presentation at Ateneo de Manila University.

In 1976, after three years and four albums with The Circus Band, Alejandro went solo, and within the following year released such songs as “Tag-Araw, Tag-Ulan” and “Panakip Butas” (a Filipino cover of the Jimmy Webb-Brooklyn Bridge song “Worst That Could Happen”) with songwriter Willy Cruz under Jem Records.

It was also around that period that he met the then rising composer, and now National Artist for Music, Ryan Cayabyab. After working together in director Leo Rialp’s “Manila! Manila!: As Times Goes By”—a dinner-cum-musical theater event that marked the reopening of the Manila Hotel in 1977—Cayabyab found himself wishing that Alejandro would interpret “Kay Ganda ng Ating Musika,” his submission to the first “Metro Manila Popular Music Festival.”

“He was with Jem Records then. And it so happened that during that time, I had just released the LP “Roots to Routes,” also under Jem. Rialp was a friend and a consultant to the said label’s other talents. And to my surprise, Cruz said the team would support the performance production and recording of ‘Kay Ganda,’” Cayabyab told the Inquirer.

The ballad of joy and pride, compellingly delivered by Alejandro with his smooth and potent baritone, ended up winning the top prize. “I really wanted him to sing my song in the competition. I was lucky Hajji was my interpreter,” Cayabyab added.

That song, along with his succeeding hits “May Minamahal” and “Nakapagtataka,” turned him into a household name. And before long, Alejandro had become a campus heartthrob, sparking swoon-fests at schools, and a bona fide concert performer, holding court at big venues like the Folk Arts Theater.

It was then that “Hajji attained the ‘Kilabot ng mga Kolehiyala’ status,” Cayabyab noted.

The word “retirement” was never in Alejandro’s vocabulary. Just one person willing to listen, the singer once told the Inquirer, was a good enough reason to keep on singing. It was just how he was designed, he said. “I don’t know anything else.”

He stayed true to his word—doing what he did best and loved most until his body could no longer hold.

‘Humahataw’

The last time Sison saw Alejandro was on Feb. 13, for a pre-Valentine concert with the OPM Hitmakers, a group of legacy artists also composed of Nonoy Zuñiga, Rey Valera, and—prior to his death in 2018—Rico J. Puno. There were no signs whatsoever that he was sick, Sison said.

“He was giving his 100 percent as he usually did—humahataw,” he said. “The following days, we heard that his stomach was in pain, that he couldn’t even swallow water. The next thing we knew, he was at the hospital and in need of surgery,” he related.

In a Facebook post, Alejandro’s partner of 27 years, singer Alynna Velasquez, revealed that Alejandro’s final days were spent in palliative care, “in the comforts of your home, in the company of the people you love” … and “listening to your favorite songs.”

“Your precious voice had been impaired … But I felt your love even without words. Despite the pain, restlessness and hallucinations, you tried to hold my hand,” Velasquez wrote.

Sison and his friends had been raring to see Alejandro in person since his diagnosis, but the latter refused their requests. “I think it was because he didn’t want us to see him in such a state. Gusto niya lagi pogi. He said we could only see him once he recovers. But he never did,” Sison said.

“We lost not only a colleague, a leader, a big brother. We have been performing together since 2003. We talked about everything under the sun. We can joke around each other without anyone getting offended. That’s how deep our friendship had become,” he added.

For Sison, Alejandro will be remembered as one of the pioneers of OPM; a celebrated and beloved artist whose spirit will live on in every note and lyric of his songs. “I know that every time we hear ‘Tag-Araw,’ ‘May Minamahal’ or ‘Kay Ganda,’ we will always know: That is Hajji Alejandro,” he said. INQ