By Raffy Castillo

It is often said that no one is indispensable. Yet when a man like Aniceto “Chito” Sobrepeña leaves us, we find ourselves quietly questioning that old saying. Because while institutions continue and titles are passed on, the unique grace of a truly good man—the kind that shapes lives in ways unseen—cannot be replaced.

Yes, we can cite his remarkable achievements: nearly three decades as President of the Metrobank Foundation, years of distinguished government service including becoming one of the youngest Cabinet-level officials during the Corazon Aquino administration, and a lifelong commitment to development work that uplifted teachers, soldiers, police officers, artists, students, and the marginalized. 

Under his stewardship, corporate social responsibility in the Philippines was not just institutionalized—it was humanized.

But what many of us will remember most about Chito was not his résumé. It was his heart.

Despite his stature, he was strikingly humble and low-key. He never made you feel small in his presence—only seen, heard, and valued. 

We did not meet often, only occasionally at Manila Doctors Hospital when there were events, yet in those brief encounters, he listened with full attention, as if nothing else in the room mattered. 

He spoke gently, kindly, and with genuine interest. And afterward, he would send a message or make a call simply to say thank you—for a conversation, for a small Christmas token, for a gesture others might have overlooked. But he never did. Gratitude came naturally to him.

That spirit of humility and servant leadership clearly runs deep in the Sobrepeña family. His younger brother, Dr. Rino Sobrepeña, a dear friend, carries the same quiet strength, organizational excellence, kindness, and passion for helping those who need it most. It is a family where competence walks hand in hand with compassion.

What made Chito’s life even more luminous was how deeply anchored he was in faith. His spirituality was not loud or performative. It was lived—steadily, quietly, consistently. He brought friends, family, colleagues, and even strangers closer to God, not by preaching, but by example. The tributes at the wake of all his classmates at the Ateneo de Manila, Batch 73, all attested to this laudable spirituality. 

He believed, truly, that leadership was stewardship, and that all blessings were meant to be shared.

This was perhaps most beautifully reflected in the words of his son Rafael, now based in Cebu, whose tribute to his Dad moved many to tears. Rafael shared that even when his father did not always agree with his choices in life or career, Chito never withdrew his love or support. Instead, he stood by him—not only as a father, but as a mentor, business adviser, confidante, and friend. That kind of love—the kind that supports without controlling, that guides without imposing—is rare, and profoundly powerful.

And then there was that unforgettable moment when the children once asked their father what the best gift he ever gave their mother, Anna, herself an accomplished journalist, editor, and book author. His answer was simple, tender, and deeply telling:

“I gave her three angels.”

Not material things. Not awards. Not accolades. Not achievements. Just love, goodness, and faith embodied in their children—Gabriel, Rafael, and Michaela.

That was Chito. Always returning to what truly matters.

In his public life, he believed that relationships are the real capital, that mentoring young leaders is a sacred responsibility, and that careers should be guided not just by ambition but by purpose. He reminded the youth to look beyond paychecks and toward meaning. To him, corporate foundations were not offices—they were mission fields.

Even in retirement, he did not speak of slowing down, but of deepening—deepening reflection, mentoring, and spiritual growth. For Chito, service was not a phase of life. It was a calling.

In these difficult times, when cynicism is easy and moral courage feels rare, Chito Sobrepeña stood as gentle proof that integrity, faith, competence, and compassion can—and should—coexist. He showed us that it is possible to lead without ego, to succeed without forgetting others, and to serve without seeking recognition.

We grieve his passing, yes. But we are also deeply grateful that we were blessed to cross paths with a man who quietly made the world kinder, fairer, and more hopeful.

Rest in peace, dear Chito.

Your life was a gift. Your love was your legacy.

And your light will continue to guide all those you touched.