One noticeable feature to the home is the private massage area of the couple.

Gen. Romeo Maganto is a name that readily summons recall, and not only because there are three bio-pics attached to that name. His rise to power, for starters, is one of the books; from a humble patrol policeman in Bustos, Bulacan, he emerged from the ranks to become a police general. His stint at the Metro Manila Development Authority as a traffic czar had given motorists the color-coding scheme (now called the number-coding scheme) and the dancing traffic officers.

In the privacy of his home, all the titles and accolades bestowed by the outside world fall from the general to reveal a man who has finally found his peace. Retired from the service, Gen. Maganto has all the time in the world to bask in the warm glow of domesticity and familial bliss. His presence, though still dignified, has a relaxed air to it; gone are the days when he would be always alert, waiting on tenterhooks for the latest assignment.

The laid-backness of Gen. Maganto is reflected by the home he and his family moved into a couple of years ago. Although it is situated in one of the more prominent subdivisions in the South, it doesn’t strike one as imposing and unabashedly powerful: the design, for one, is decidedly modern, tempered with swatches of Orientalia and Filipiniana. “This is now my new office,” the general jokes at the start of the interview. “I’m always on call here 24/7.”

The house, which features locally crafted furniture, is predicated for utmost comfort and relaxation. The garden spills its flowery scent; the home theater beckons with its leather cushions; the massage room, situated near the bedroom, holds a daily promise of pampering and detoxification. Charming these spaces may be, Gen. Maganto doesn’t spend much time here. “You can find me in the library where I usually pore over history books,” he says, “as well as in the dog area where I play with my pets.”

The library is a no-entry zone for helpers. Gen. Maganto is the one who personally cleans his plaques and medals he incurred during his decades-long service. He also keeps souvenirs from his offices past, including a beeper that had always alerted him about police operations. As though catching up with all the lost hours of sleep, Gen. Maganto considers the bedroom as a sanctuary of its own. “Just like exercising and dieting, sleeping for me is a healthy habit.”

The only time that Gen. Maganto would venture out of his house—apart from family vacations, attendance in civic organizations and golf—is when he would meet with former employees, friends, even strangers who up to now still go to him for help. “Though I consider myself a full-time family man,” he says, “there are occasions when I have to reach out to those who think I can be of service to them. In these tough times, it’s hard to say ‘no.’”

His wife prefers that Gen. Maganto confine his public service to this small circle, though she is very much aware that given the opportunity to do more, his husband would readily accept it in a heartbeat. “Personally I don’t want him back in the limelight,” she says. “I don’t want to fear for my husband’s life again. But I know that public service is in his veins. What I can only do is to support him 100 percent.”

The years of living a quiet life have afforded Gen. Maganto a perspective on the important things and how he would want to spend his remaining years. For him, family is paramount but the call of duty, he says, is hard to ignore. The risk-taking spirit that characterized his career has given way to reflection, wisdom, and balance. “There’s no greater joy than serving one’s country,” he concludes.