Minoritized and Dehumanized

title l foreword l contents l part I l part II l part III l part IV

PART III-(1)(2)(3)(4)/5)

 

PART III -2

Victims of Militarization

 

“There are things you can easily say but there are things which you cannot say because of fear of repression.” This was what Juliana Omega, 45, an Ibanag of Baggao, Cagayan felt when we interviewed her. She doesn’t want to talk about what had happened to her son. She said the military might harass her if she talks of the incident. But we were able to persuade her when we said that we will just put a pseudonym if ever her story will be printed.

Just like any other family in Pabag, Baggao, Cagayan, the Omega’s belong to the majority of poor peasants. The family works on the land which is owned by a relative. They only harvest twice a year and produce an aggregate of 15-20 cavans. For them, this is not enough to live decently.

Today, people of Pabag do not only suffer hunger but also the denial of the most human right — existence. According to the military, they have to “liberate the people from their biggest enemy — the rebels.” Empty houses, empty villages are seen everywhere, empty because the people flee out of ear and more harassments from the military.

This is a story of a mother whose son, Juan Omega, 19 years old, was a victim of militarization.

“On February 10, 1983, the day before the massacre, the exbarangay captain of Tendrique, Baclan, Baggao was killed by unidentified armed men. He was known as a “friend” of the military. But since we had nothing to do with him, we did not bother to think about the killing.”

“Then on the evening of February 10 my son decided to go fishing in Asasi River together with his friends, Juan and Max. I reminded him to come back only for the rice harvesting and he promised to be back by 5:00 o’clock in the morning.”

“The next day while taking our breakfast, we suddenly heard gunshots. We were all very scared and alarmed that something might have happened to Juan since he had not yet arrived. Our fears increased when we were later told that three corpses were to be brought to the military detachment for identification. That same morning we went to the military detachment to confirm if my son was one of the victims.

“At first, it was hard for us to recognize the cadavers because of the mutilated conditions of their faces. I was only able to recognize Juan through his clothes. When I saw Juan, my whole body trembled from anger. I would have screamed my fury had there been no gun pointed at my back.

Then I asked the military in a choking voice regarding the incident. They simply said that the three boys were NPA.

While examining the body, we found out that he had probably been manhandled first before he was killed. The ribs were smashed and discolored and the breast and shoulders were mutilated with gashing wounds.

We buried Juan after a few days while the radio unemotionally announced that “three NPA were shot in Baggao, Cagayan.” The news charged that the three carried out the orders that led to the killing of the barangay captain earlier.

After the death of the three, Juan’s brother, Emilio and four of his friends were also apprehended, without any warrant of arrest. They were all brought to a detention camp because they were suspected of being NPA sympathizers.

Today the whole family is suspected of being sympathetic to the NPA and we dare not go out of our house anymore. The double tragedy that visited us makes many of us want to commit the same barbarity they committeed to my son. But such a course of action would force us out of our place. And that would be an earlier end.”

 

Another militarization story

Arrests, detention, harassments, torture, salvaging ... all because one is suspected of being an NPA sympathizer...

You hear of this so often — from the radio, from concerned citizens, and from church workers. You read of this so — often from newspapers, documentation of researchers and workers and from church publications. But to see it happen — and happen again — is different.

Cagayan province, located in the northwestern part of the Philippines, is believed to be a stronghold of the New People’s Army (NPA). This, therefore, explains why a large number of military men are in Cagayan today. They came, so they say, to guard the people from the NPA and their abuses.

Barrio Magugod, one of West Cagayan’s barrios, was the site of a number of atrocities carried out by the military. The people there live in constant fear but also suppressed anger. Like Lucia Laures, 55, and a resident of barrio Magugod.

Who is Lucia? Lucia is a mother who had a son — Claudio. He was arrested and secretley executed “salvaged”. And she did not even know why. She recalls:

“It was the first day of March. The whole family — the father, our 11 children. including Claudio and myself went to the fields to harvest palay (rice). Every other family in the neighborhood was doing the same thing. At about the same day too, the military was conducting military operations in Cagayan. They were stationed at a nearby barrio called Dadap. There was nothing unusual about that.

But as Claudio and the others were working on the fields, a number of military men passed by. Some were in uniform and the others were in civilian clothes.

Without any word and without much ado — they apprehended Claudio and 10 others. No warrant of arrest was produced.

He was manhandled in front of me. He was forced to undress but he refused to take off his underwear. The military men boxed him and hit him with a rifle. They were all brought to barrio Dadap afterwards. Immediately after, the 10 others were released —Claudio was not included.

Three days of waiting for his return was too much. I went to see the Mayor to inquire about my son. But when I asked him — all he answered was that Claudio was already released. He didn’t answer me when I asked where I could locate him. Without any new information and not knowing where to go next, I returned home.

Some people told me Claudio was dead. But how can I believe them?

The day after I saw the Mayor, the military men came back to our barrio and stole the chickens, eggs and dogs of those who were out on the fields. Nothing was mentioned regarding Claudio. Nothing happened, and no more news regarding Claudi&s disappearance was heard of.

Not until a month had passed. We found him — a corpse — in barrio Dadap, Amulang. He was “buried” in a cemetery yard without any coffin — just like a dead pig. He had a smashed head. His body was badly beaten. It was distorted. We were able to recognize him through his clothes. He was brought back to Magugod where a proper burial was accorded him.

The barrio organization, expressing concern over the incident, went to the town of Baggao to investigate the case. Not one of those they came to see was in. Not even the Mayor. Our family also tried to seek the help of a priest, but it was also a futile attempt. After these, plans to follow-up the case stopped.

Who else can we approach? Who else can help us? Our friends? “Small” people like us, who never are given a second glance?

What else can we do? Continue our trips to the town — talk with the mayor and all other government officials? Will they even hear us out, or will they again refer us back to the military? Seek out a newspaper to expose the atrocity done to Claudio? We cannot afford it. All of our time is spent mostly on back-breaking work to earn ourselves enough money. Money for our most basic need food.

How can we fight back and seek justice for Claudio’s unexplained death?

“Those responsible for these — the PC-INP-CHDF’17 are free. They are not even obliged to give an explanation why Claudio was arrested, and eventually killed,” Lucia stated. The military though, claims that there was a warrant of arrest for her son. But Lucia is not sure if indeed, there really was one. She believes that his arrest was a way to frighten people because they suspected him to be a subversive. They feared that he might be one of those who had sympathised and believed inthe NPA’s cause. He was a member of the barrio medical group. He helped and communicated with a lot of the barrio folks and was popular.

Such a case makes one wonder why a person who is committed to serving his fellowmen is accused as subversive. Why can such an admirable person be allowed to die, and in such manner?

Claudio’s story is not unique. Not even in their barrio. In 1981, two families were massacred. One incident involved the death of four family members and a visitor. In much the same way, no reasons were given to explain the murder. Only the reality continues, that people’s lives can anytime be ended with a single gunshot. Cheap lives, and justice — When will this be reconciled?

                                                                     go to part III-3...

PART III-(1)(2)/(3)(4)(5)

title l foreword l contents l part I l part II l part III l part IV