By: Beverly Vergel
In the world of entertainment journalism, names often become familiar long before faces do. Columns are read, opinions are followed, and bylines become part of a reader’s daily rhythm.
For many, NAP ALIP was one of those names—recognized, respected, and trusted.
For me, he was something more.
He was a beloved Kuya Nap—someone who had been part of my life for over three decades, from Manila to Canada, across different seasons of life.
And if there is one thing I have come to understand about Nap, it is this: Who he was brought depth and purpose to everything he did.
The Start of Something Meaningful
It has been 37 years since I first met Nap —and I still remember how and where our paths first crossed.
We first met at the start of my career as an actress, when he was already an entertainment writer in the Philippines. Our paths crossed in Escolta, Manila, where independent film producers had their offices, and where the PR office of Manay Ethel Ramos became a favorite gathering place of film writers and insiders.
As Our Paths Unfolded
Nap remained deeply engaged in the industry—attending press conferences, handling public relations for screen personalities and independent producers, and continuing to lend his voice as a regular columnist in a daily newspaper.
As the demands of his work grew—and as mine did as well—we naturally saw less of each other, but the bond, fondness, and deep respect we had built over the years endured.
Migration, Distance, and Reconnection in Canada
Nap and his wife, Ate Mer (Casimira), migrated to Canada to be with their daughters.
I followed later as a landed immigrant together with my daughter Sydney.
As promised to Nap, my first long trip away from Mississauga was to visit him in Newmarket.
What made the entire trip worth it was the moment we saw Nap again after such a long time—the smile on his face, the warmth in his eyes.
Life Continued, and So Did We
Nap continued his passion for entertainment writing in Canada as a contributor to Balita, the largest and most widely read newspaper in the GTA and the Filipino community.
He and his wife, Ate Mer (Casimira), whom he shared 50 years of marriage with, were also devoted full-time grandparents to Rhys and Miguel.
Meanwhile, I pursued further studies in filmmaking, as well as Career and Life Coaching.
During this time, we stayed connected through phone calls and visits to Newmarket to celebrate his birthday.
For me personally, Kuya Nap was someone who supported and appreciated me for who I am.
There were times—both in Manila and later here in Canada—when he would write about my achievements, and even about my parents Alicia Vergel and Cesar Ramirez, and my brother Ace Vergel, without me even knowing.
And I would only find out when the article came out.
He did not celebrate himself—he celebrated others.
He lifted people up quietly, sincerely… without needing recognition.
And I realized… that kind of person is rare.
The Pull I Couldn’t Explain
During the pandemic, I was not able to visit Kuya Nap as often as I wanted.
He had developed Parkinson’s Disease—but otherwise, he remained healthy.
Though we stayed in touch through phone calls from time to time…
But for reasons I cannot fully explain, I felt a deep urge to see him last January 4, 2026.
His smile said everything—he was so happy to see me.
“Is that Beverly?”
That was a moment that truly melted my heart.
A Career Rooted in Story—and Trust
Nap built a respected career in entertainment journalism—writing for publications such as People’s Journal and People’s Tonight.
His legacy was never meant to sit on shelves—it lived in people.
A Love Story Built on Patience and Respect
Nap met Ate Mer (Casimira) when she was a widow with two young sons.
He serenaded her, waited patiently, and built a life with her spanning 50 years of marriage.
A Rare Kind of Man
Nap was a rare gem—not because of what he achieved—but because of how he lived.
He gave without keeping score. He loved without conditions.
Men like him are rare.
Final Reflection
The most beautiful things in life are not always seen—but felt deeply in the heart.
And that is how Nap Alip will be remembered.
A life remembered through what was written… and through a life meaningfully lived.
Gone from our sight… but never from our hearts. — Beverly Vergel
