darkRainbow

There goes my friend…

 

She’s but natural and one of those few uniformed officers that
values life of others.

 

I saw in her who I was when I was younger and when I was
free from obligations and responsibilities.

 

She doesn’t know that I admired her for being so true to
herself and to others and I fear for her openness.

 

She’s at the crossroad now where she will either join the
system or pursue other dreams.

 

I remember once when her childhood friend recounted to me
how they tried catching dreams, my friend wants to fly high and she did.

 

But realities put her down to confront that life is not all
sweet and success. She has to confront the most violent situation and save
many.

 

I know deep in her heart that if she follows her will, it doesn’t
matter if she gets killed instead of wondering why she was not able to keep all
the flock within her reach.

 

Worst, she is confronted with tough challenges but I know
she’ll overcome it for as long as she keeps her sanity and principles.

 

As she bids goodbye, I know that her strength is intact.

 

As I look at her, I suddenly realized why our paths met.

 

We may have two different worlds, but I know we believe in
one thing, that life is precious and peoples’ lives more important than
prestige.

 

I salute you friend, as I see you live, I know more
challenges will branch out along your way, but at the end of that, you’ll see and
understand the reason why…

I think some military generals should at least review their English 101 and Math 101. When I go over with the reports, officials sources and files I just realized something wrong with the generals’ counting abilities. A Basilan based general claimed 42 Abu Sayyaf killed. Hmmm… let me check, 3 mayors attested only 4 body counts recovered, 3 others expired in Tuburan. So my counting brings me to a total of 7 bandits killed. But how come this general known as the thunder in the community claimed 42 bandits killed to include four most wanted Abu Sayyaf leaders? No wonder Tipo-tipo mayor reacted negatively saying "exaggeration, I dont even think there were 20 in Kurellem that time." It also turned out that only two notorious bandits Umair Indama and Barra Bassit (not commanders as earlier claimed by the military) were killed. Commanders Nuruddin Muddalan aka Nod and Puruji Indama are still very alive according top police and provincial government officials. At least I am proud that my son knows how to count one up to ten, these generals may tap my son to teach them the simplest way of counting, using their hands and feet. Well, another thing is the "Figure of speech," and that is English!!! A mayor says "para silang ibon na ginawang target (sitting ducks)" referring to the bloody encounter on August 18 at Tipo-tipo. A now retired general said and that in Basilan claimed, "you should correct your incorrectness report." A friend David said "sana sinulat mo na lang na Abu engaged with marines, they were shooting fowls."

She was sitting on her wooden bench facing east where the
air blows gently. I thought she was enjoying the early cold breeze that Sunday
morning.

 

No, she wasn’t, she was there thinking alone and reviving
the past memories.

 

When I approached her, I saw tears in her eyes, she was
crying…

 

Casually I asked her why she’s up so early when it was her
typical late waking up routine every Sunday.

 

In a casual tone trying to hide her broken voice, she said
that “I was not able to sleep last night, I have had some nightmares, I am just
here trying to recall that bad dreams, don’t mind me.”

 

My mother is a very sentimental person, but when I saw her
emotions that Sunday, I sensed something’s wrong, somewhere.

 

Before I could ask for more questions, she immediately
turned the table on me saying, “hey! why you are up too so early, your son
might wake up and find you missing, you better go back to your house.”

 

I reminded her gently that Kenneth knows his way around and
innocently, I asked what’s bothering her.

 

“Nanay I know that you know you’re hiding something, I know
you’re crying and I believe there’s a big reason for that tears.”

 

She just nodded her head and suddenly blurted out that “I am
afraid that I will be spending Christmas alone, your sister has already left
me, she is now staying in an apartment near her office and your brother is
about to leave me soon, he’ll be working out of the country.”

 

She wept quietly, I just embraced her trying to console her
feelings. I know that at her age, she’s becoming very sensitive and she can’t
stand living alone in her house.

 

“Hush! It’s okay Nanay, my sister is already old enough to
be independent, let her live her own life, she knows where to find you and my
brother has to move on, he’s been out of job for almost a year.”

 

However her instant reaction has moved me.

 

“You know what? I miss the life we had in Baliwasan, we
shared every inch of the space in our small house but we were all happy, but…during
those days, I was dreaming of having a big house where everyone in the family
will have its own room, now I just wish to get back to that old small
dwelling.”

 

Now I am sharing her tears, I know that those moments were
the best for us even if we hardly eat a decent meal in a day.

 

I remember our Christmas excited to have a piece of an apple
(the cheapest one), slice bread with margarine and biko. Tatay and Nanay then
were proud to share a peso coin for each of their six children.

 

Those days… late at night, I made sure to watch my parents
making a Christmas tree made of white strings tied to a big flat rounded
plywood and a long pole in the middle where to tie the strings. Inside that
Christmas tree is a manger where Tatay, a skilled carpenter sculpted some
figures of the three kings, Mama Mary, Baby Jesus and Papa Joseph with small
animals including dogs and cats.

 

At Noche Buena, we were all satisfied and happy sharing and
sipping a cup of hot tea and slices of bread.

 

Ah… those were the days… Simple yet happy life… Suddenly, I
too has to wipe my tears realizing that I sympathize with her longings.

 

This coming Noche Buena, my Nanay fears of spending it alone
in her huge house. The only sounds she can hear is her own footsteps, the
squeaking of the door and noises from the lizards on the walls and ceilings.

 

I have my own house just few meters away from her. Kenneth
my son and I are the only souls that occupy our humble domain.

 

Yet I assured her that with all her grandchildren around,
“you’re not going to miss even me.”

 

I told her that she has Kenneth, Kix Daryll and Kix Darren
and Bimbong and probably my brother Jose would also bring his children Jemalyn,
Jonalyn, Christopher and Nicko for Noche Buena celebration.

 

“Well that’s a great idea, I think I should focus more on my
apos, hmp! Why should I be so selfish when there are still noisy earthlings
that I can play with on Christmas day,” was my Nanay’s words.

 

But looking at her, seeing her sad eyes, I know that she is
still trying to convince herself that everything will be okay.

 

“You are all grown-up now, if God asks me what will be my
wish, I will wish that we all go back to where we started,” was my mother’s
words before I left her to check my son.

 

 

      
      
 

    

MAMA… NO SMOKING
PLEASE?

 

 

We, meaning
Kenneth, my almost 4 year old son and I were watching a news program on
television when something catches his attention.

 

In between breaks
of the said program, an ads on cigarette brand flashed on screen where a sexy
woman in red luring a male friend to fetch her for a date.

 

After the ads, a
white bold letters appeared on screen advising viewers that “smoking is
dangerous to health.”

 

Suddenly out of
the blue, my son innocently inquired, “Mama ano ibig sabihin sa nakasulat dyan,
yung white na letters ba?”

 

“Aah! Ibig sabihin
nuon, masama ang manigarilyo,” was my short reply.

 

“Bakit?” Kenneth
asked still not convinced with my translation.

 

Choosing proper
words for answer, I explained that “kasi masama ang smoking, magkakasakit ka
tulad ng ubo, serious pag cancer na.”

 

“Mama wag ka na
mag smoke, magkaka-cancer ka, tingnan mo o umuubo ka na, me cancer ka na
siguro, no smoking na Mama ha?”

 

With his instant
reaction, I realized that small kids like my son (a keen observer and
meticulous) noticed everything I do inside our home.

 

I also realized
that whatever I forgot or misplaced something inside the house, he is the first
to locate it and get it for me like my pair of eyewear, a cellular phone and
even my car, bedroom or cabinet keys.

 

Whenever I watch
television or listen to radio and (unconsciously) I could utter such negative
or positive words against a certain tv or radio personality, he could easily
recall it.

 

He was then 3
years old when President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo declared Proclamation 1017. I
was muttering some words to myself while my son snugged quietly at my lap.

 

The next day, he
said, “Mama look at Pangulong Arroyo, she is there again o, she might be
harassing again reporters like you, she is not good.”

 

Lately, when Efren
Bata Reyes went home victorious, I told his yaya that “hey that’s my real idol,
a humble person!”

 

After that, every time
Reyes is featured on television, my son immediately shouts “Mama, your idol is
on tv, hurry you might miss him!”

 

Well, Kenneth
keeps on surprising me with his intelligence, with him, my mother does not need
to remind me the do’s and don’t’s. I have a son whom every time he calls my
attention, not only embarrasses me but actually reminding me what I am supposed
to do as a mother to a child.
(end)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ANG ALAALA KO SA
NAGANAP NA KARAHASAN SA SULU

 

Pebrero kwatro
bandang alas sais y media ng umaga, maaga pa gumayak na kami ni David Santos at ang kanyang cameraman patungong Barangay Liang sa Patikul Sulu.

 

Masaya pa kami sa
loob ng sasakyan, tila excited sa susuunging bagong coverage.

 

Ang pagkaka-alam
namin mula sa bayarang driver na si Pendatun, may naganap raw na masaker sa
Liang, ang nasabing lugar ay katapat lamang ng headquarters ng 3^rd
Marine Brigade.

 

Pagdating namin sa
lugar, nasalubong agad namin ang ilang residente doon, bakas sa kanilang mga
mukha ang takot, galit at pagkagulat.

 

Napadaan kami sa
isang tricycle na nakaharang sa tapat ng daanan patungo sa looban kung saan
naganap ang insidente Pebrero 4 ng madaling araw.

 

Ngunit inagaw ng
dalawang paslit na nakatayo sa tabi ng tricycle ang atensyon ko.

 

Isang batang babae
na nag-eedad sampung taon at isang lalake na tantya ko ko wala pang limang
taon.

 

Gusgusin sila,
mapuputik ang kanilang damit at nakapaa sila.

 

Ang batang lalaki
ay umiiyak habang tangan nito ang isang plastik na may lamang biscuit at
tatlong piraso ng baulo (Tausug’s small muffin), habang ang batang babae na
mukhang tulala at takot ay pilit inaalo ang kasama.

 

Ngunit nakatuon
ako sa kanilang mga damit, may bahid ng mga dugo at may tuyong dugo rin ang
batang babae sa may braso nito at sa binti ng batang lalaki.

 

Nilapitan ko at
kinausap ang dalawa gamit ang mangilan-ngilan kong kaalaman sa diyalektong
Tausug.

 

Bilang proteksyon
sa kanilang pagkatao, pinangalanan ko na lamang ang batang babae na si Neneng,
at ang bunso nitong kapatid si Dodong.

 

Sa pag-uusap
naming dalawa, nalaman ko tumakas lamang silang dalawa sa kanilang
barung-barong nang maalimpungatan ito sa sunod-sunod na putok.

 

Humangos sila sa
bahay ng kanyang tiya, may halos limampung metro ang layo sa kanilang bahay.

 

Plano niya sanang alamin ang sitwasyon sa
kanilang bahay kaya’t naabutan ko siyang kabababa lamang sa tricycle ng kanyang
tiyuhin.

 

Kwento ni Neneng,
nakakabingi ang ingay ng putok, di niya alam kung saan susuot upang magtago,
agad nitong hinila ang katabi nitong kapatid na nagising rin sa ingay at
nagpatihulog sa likuran ng kanilang bahay.

 

Ang bahay nila ay
gawa sa nipa at ilang bahagi ng barung-barong ay tagpi-tagpi na tinakpan ng
ilang karton at makakapal na bagay upang di pumasok ang lamig.

 

Sa mga
tagpi-tagping karton sila dumaan kasama ang bunsong si Dodong. Kapwa sila
naalimpungatan at hindi pa lubusang batid kung ano talaga ang nagaganap, ang
nasa isip lamang daw ni Neneng ay tumakbo palayo sa putukan.

 

Biglang
nag-alburuto ulit si Dodong habang tinatanong ko kung kasama ba nito ang mga
magulang nila nang tumakas.

 

Tila me pakiramdam
si Dodong na may masamang nangyari sa ina’t ama nito.

 

Sagot ni Neneng,
silang dalawa lang ang nakatakas at naiwan ang kanyang ina, ama at ang
pinakabunso nitong kapatid na walong buwan pa lamang.

 

Sinabayan ko siya
sa paglalakad patungong kanilang bahay, habang karay-karay nito si Dodong na
nakakapit sa kanyang balakang.

 

Wala pang tatlong
metro ang layo sa kanilang bahay, agad binitiwan ni Neneng si Dodong at
humangos papasok sa kanilang bahay kung saan napapalibutan na ng mga miron,
imbestigador, ilang konsehal ng Jolo, mga kapitbahay at ilang di unipormadong
sundalong Marines.

 

Ilang segundo pa
ang lumipas, dinig ko na ang hiyaw ni Neneng ng Amah! Inah! (ama, ina).

 

Iyak na parang
isang malaking sundot sa puso ko dahil ang kanyang hiyaw ay magkahalong awa,
galit at pagtatanong.

 

Kita ko ang mga
kapitbahay na pinipilit ilayo at ibaba si Neneng sa kanilang barung-barong habang
matindi ang kapit nito sa mga paa ng kanyang ama’t ina.

 

Bakas sa mga mukha
ng mga kapitbahay at mga miron ang galit sa kung sino man ang me kagagawan sa
insidente at matinding awa para sa mga naulila.

 

Namalas ni Dodong
ang kaganapan at nakiisa na rin ito sa pag-iyak wari’y takot na may masamang
mangyayari sa kanyang ate.

 

Lumapit ako sa may
papag kung saan nakahiga ang kanyang mga magulang…

 

Hindi ko nakayanan
ang aking nakita… napa-upo ako sa may paanan ng punong mangga, di ko alam na
sumalampak ako sa putikan, habang patuloy naman ang pagtunog ng aking cellular
phone.

 

Tumatawag na si
Alan Nawal, isa sa mga bureau personnel namin upang humingi ng update sa
coverage ko.

 

Sinagot ko sya,
pero di ako makapagbigay ng matinong report, tulad ni Neneng, nawawala na rin
ako sa tamang pag-iisip.

 

Sa patuloy na
pangungulit ni Alan, di ko napigilan at inihagis ko ang cellphone.

 

Tahimik akong
umiyak habang nakakubli sa may puno, ayokong makita ng ibang tao na mahina ang
aking loob.

 

 Sanay na ako sa
anumang karumal-dumal na insidente dahil sa mga coverage ko sa Sulu. Minsan na
rin akong umiyak nang magsagawa kami ng documentation sa isang lugar sa Zamboanga Peninsula  nuong nasa human rights NGO pa ako.

 

Sa nakita kong
hitsura ng mga biktima, bumalik ulit ang aking kahinaan.

 

Binalikan ko ulit
ang barung-barong nina Neneng, yakap na siya ng kanyang tiya habang patuloy pa
itong humahagulgol.

 

Dito maingat kong
minalas ang mga bangkay sa loob ng bahay. Tapyas ang mukha ng kanyang ama dala
ng tindi ng bala ng M16 armalite, maaaring maraming beses itong binakbakan.
Sabog din ang tagiliran nito at ang mga binti.

 

Ibinaling ko ang
tingin sa mag-inang nakahiga. Yakap-yakap pa ng ina ang walong buwang sanggol…
halatang nagdedede pa ang bata nang tadtadrin sila ng bala.

 

Wakwak rin ang
likod ng ina, tagos sa tiyan ng sanggol, habang ang mga labi nito ay nakadikit
pa sa suso ng ina, tila sa tindi ng sakit, napadiin ang pagsuso ng bata kung
kaya’t nakalapat pa ito sa dibdib ng kanyang nanay.

 

Hatinggabi raw
naganap ang masaker, ito rin ang karaniwang oras na kumakapa ang mga sanggol
upang magdede.

 

Sabog rin ang
braso ng sanggol pati ang ulo at binti ng ina nito.

 

Di ko na talaga
nakayanan ang imaheng nakita ko. Umalis na ako at lumipat sa dalawang bahay
kung saan biktima rin ng masaker.

 

Isang dalagita rin
ang nahagip ng walong bala, tangan pa ng dalagita na isang matalinong mag-aaral
ng Notredame HighSchool ang tasbid (prayer beads ng Islam) habang ang ama nito na malamig ding bangkay,
lupaypay sa may pintuan ng kanilang bahay.

 

Sa kabilang bahay,
mag-ama rin ang biktima, swerteng nakaligtas ang anak nitong babae na
nagpapagamot sa Sulu  District Hospital,
habang nagtamo naman ng gasgas ang kanyang
apat na taong gulang na anak. Ngunit ang ama ng babae ay patay rin at sabog ang
tagiliran nito.

 

Umaalingawngaw pa
rin sa pandinig ko ang hiyaw ni Neneng, at nagdesisyon na kaming lisanin ang
lugar.

 

Dahil habang
tumatagal kami sa pag-iinterview, mas lalong bumibigat ang dibdib ko.

 

Ngunit sa sasakyan
pa lamang, di ko na nakayanan ang kinikipkip kong damdamin, bilang ina, dama ko
kung ano ang posibleng naganap sa pagitan ng sanggol at ng ina ni Neneng.

 

Tumitindi ang
galit ko sa sinuman ang may gawa ng karumal-dumal na insidente.

 

Ilang sa mga
detalyeng nakuha ko ay mas nagpaigting sa aking galit, habang binubuhos ko sama
ng loob ke David.

 

Una, di ko
maintindihan kung bakit kailangan pang iligpit ng Marines ang mga basiyong
nagkalat sa palibot ng tatlong bahay matapos ang insidente.

 

Pangalawa, bakit
di sila agad rumisponde sa insidente lalung lalo pa’t umabot na halos trenta
minutos ang putukan.

 

Pangatlo, halos
trenta singkwenta metro lamang ang layo ng headquarters ng Marines sa lugar ng
masaker at napapalibutan pa ang property ng mga detachment ng ilang Marine
units.

 

Pang-apat, ang
property ay pag-aari ng Vicariate ng Sulu at naatasan ang Marines na mag-secure
sa lugar.

 

Hanggang ngayon,
mahigit walong buwan na ang nakaraan, buhay pa rin sa akin ang mga nasaksihan
sa maliit na barung-barong nina Neneng at Dodong.

 

Palaisipan rin sa akin
ngayon kung ano na ang kalagayan ng mga naulila at kung inaalagaan ba sila ng
mabuti ng kanilang mga tiyahin na tulad nila, hikahos rin sa buhay.

 

Sana, matigil na
ang karahasan sa Sulu, at sana lumantad na ang totoong salarin at hindi agad
ibuntong sa ilang mga grupo na ayon sa mga pulis, hindi rin basta-basta
magagawa dahil, “highly secured ang property ng marines.” (END)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sigh… After our bureau meeting at Chemas Resort,

Samal

Island

last week, I realized that I
was really way-way behind technology.

 

Fellow correspondents were sharing about blogs and latest
websites and they change blogs’ names and sites like changing linens every
week.

 

Gosh! Me? I am still exploring how to open my own blog set
up by a friend Maris Balidoy of IBC13 Manila. She introduced the blogging operation on friendster middle of 2005.

 

The only thing I know with this electronic age is to
maintain my g-mail, hotmail and yahoo accounts for sending my articles or
receiving emails.

 

Even the sending of photos, I just started six months ago, whew!

 

After more than a year maintaining a blog with a lonely post
dedicated to my son John Kenneth, I decided to walk around the web following
instructions provided by Maris which I wrote down in one of my old notebooks.

 

Now I am starting to explore pages, sites, photos, videos
and other clips.

I am not ashamed being tagged as "barriotic" because in the barrios, everything is simple, life is simple, needs are simple, and I can still enjoy the real beauty of nature without resorting to electronic pages to see how a sparrow looks like.

 

Mind you, I am still very afraid to discover and wander
around the web because of viruses and unwanted sites that might filter thru my
own program.

 

In the end, I decided to stick to my old friendster’s blog
with my site. 

 

Its best for me to fill in more posts here, but I am elated when I
finally uploaded photos to insert to my one and only post, “just an ordinary
day.” Hmmm… quite exciting.

 

Right now, I am relying from my friends’ help like Joseph
Morong, Maris Balidoy and Jeffrey Tupaz to improve my blog. So
friends, help me out here!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I woke up at 4am, grabbed my torn towel that needs immediate wash, went to the bathroom and took a real cold shower.

Brrr… I don’t know if the chilliness is caused by the Christmas spirit or maybe my old spirit couldn’t bare the co ld water.

While whisking off droplets of water, I heard a loud shrill from my bedroom.

My God! My angel is wailing again. “Mama Julie where’s my milk?” my little angel asked while in between sleep and consciousness.

I checked the feeding bottle and it’s empty. I told him to give me a minute and I’ll prepare fresh one for him.

While preparing, I tuned in on AM radio monitoring the local news, but my angel apparently  really awaken by the noise, insisted to accompany him back to sleep.

When my little angel returned to his slumber, I took the extra hours to fix his breakfast, did some dusting in my windows and swept the cold stoned floor.

Finally, my fast-breaking performance of domestic chores is done in 30 minutes! Whew!

I look out the window to smell the cold breeze coming from the west. I heard the echo sounds of loud motorized boats, the honking of vehicles, the ebbing wake up calls of roosters and the birds’ chirps.

  

At 530am, sunrise is fast coming out from the dark clouds and I could see people moving a round trying to catch up some buses and jeepneys to their work.

I reached for my mug, prepare my coffee and sat at the porch enjoying the cold air and the sight of my brightly color red poinsettia, orange, pink, red, white and blue Hibiscus, orange, red, violet and pink Boungainvillea.

Wow! A perfect setting for reflection and a perfect place to abandon myself once in a while.

Oblivious of everything, I moved around… carefully inspecting the blooms and the leaves, occasionally weeding out some unwanted sprouts until I sensed somebody was pulling my pajama.

“Good morning Mama, gising na ako, me flowers ako o, sayo ito, puede na tayo mag play? (Good morning Mama, I am awake now. I have a flower for you, can we play?)” Oh! My angel Kenneth, as always is full of surprises.

Hmmm… surprises? It’s always been like this almost every day since Kenneth turned 2 years old last October 27, 2004. It became like a ritual except on Sundays when I leave early for marketing.

Yes, just an ordinary day for everyone, but for me, spending time with my garden and with my son, could turn even the most worst day into something extra special. (end)