That’s what happens when there is no corpus delicti, no corpse to show for it. Since the man was alive the last times he was publicly seen and heard, he is presumed still alive until proved otherwise.
Absence evidence, even the courts wait seven years before they declare a missing man dead. At this point, the reasonable course is to tentatively list Sabaya, whose real name is Aldam Tilao, as MIA (missing in action) instead of KIA (killed).
Fr. Cirilo Nacorda of Lamitan, Basilan, is being challenged by Malacanang, the military, and even a topnotch senator-lawyer, to prove that Sabaya is alive. It should be the other way around, gentlemen.
The burden is on the military to prove their claim that Sabaya is dead.
They have to produce the body or some convincing secondary evidence. They have not done that two full months after the encounter.
But the statements of such personalities as National Security Adviser Roilo Golez that Sabaya had been killed is also pure hearsay since Golez and the other kibitzers were not there when Sabaya was allegedly shot dead. Golez et al., like Father Nacorda, are just passing on secondhand opinion.
The authorities keep mentioning a supposed American satellite film of how an all-Filipino naval commando chased and terminated Sabaya on a boat with his gang. But they have failed to show the alleged film to the public. Maybe somebody is still editing it to perfection?
You know how it is. It’s now kid stuff to produce Hollywood-quality films showing pigs and donkeys talking, of decaying corpses rising from their slimy grave, of sleuths going back in time to revisit a crime scene, of satellites floating in space pinpointing a lost pendant in the Amazon jungles . . . the possibilities are endless. And very entertaining.
Come to think of it, if the White House and its high-tech filmmakers have convinced themselves that Sabaya was killed by our naval team, how come the Pentagon has not turned over to the boys the promised $1 million for the Abu’s head?
Sabaya and his cohorts must have been carrying part of the proceeds of their kidnapping-for-ransom spree. We won’t besurprised if greenbacks fall out of their pockets when they pull out their hankies or celfons.
As military informants themselves testify, when the gang arrives at a place far from base, they buy provisions. They rent space, vehicles and boats, and sometimes even buy protection.
Money is the least of their problems. They are so loaded that they are virtually a mobile unit of Wells Fargo.
So how come, by military account, when Sabaya’s backpack was recovered at the scene of encounter, it contained only his driver’s license (he drives a car in the jungles of Sulu-Basilan?), signature dark glasses, a pistol and a vanity skin lotion? What, not even a wallet stuffed with wet 100-dollar bills?
Before we are grossly misunderstood, we must clarify: We’re not saying that Sabaya is alive. We don’t know. We’re just saying that the report of his death may be a bit exaggerated. Actually, we commiserate with our soldiers out there and wish that their report of Sabaya’s death were true.
The basic engine of the Enviro is practically the same as the one under the hood of gasoline-fed cars. The only difference is its fuel system delivering to the combustion chamber natural gas (97 percent methane) instead of vaporized gasoline.
Methane (CH4) burns more completely and emits less carbon oxides compared to heavier fossil-based fuels that have more carbon. To environmentalists, methane appears to be a good alternative to gasoline and diesel.
As methane does not mix with engine oil the way grimy gasoline does, the motor requires less frequent oil and spark plug changes. Wear and tear on the engine is reduced and maintenance costs drop.
Methane can be used for cooking, but the LPG (liquefied petroleum gas) in this country is usually propane. Methane is lighter compared to propane and butane (another minority component of natural gas used as propellant for aerosol products).
We were assisted in the test drive and the table evaluation of natural gas fuel by Joy O. Gonzales, a division chief in the Energy Research Department, and Robert F. Villa Jr., a public relations officer in the office of PNOC President Thelmo Y. Cunanan,