Someone I know is among the 7,526 recorded martial law victims. He was 17 years old in December 1972 when picked up by soldiers at the university campus on suspicion of subversion. There was no proper arrest warrant from the court, only a faded photocopy of the defense minister’s “invitation” to visit the military camp. For one week they mauled him standard operating procedures. The tortures were conducted at night. With wooden poles, rifle butts and brass knuckles they pounded his stomach and sides, at first cautious to leave no bruises. Later they didn’t care anymore and pummeled him on the head, nape, chest, back, arms, thighs and legs. They nearly electrocuted his genitals had the apparatus not conked out; other prisoners weren’t as fortunate. During the day they made him mop the cell floor over and over, to deprive him of sleep. They wanted him to squeal where his comrades were hiding, so they could collect rewards for their capture. But he didn’t know who or where those other potential victims were.
It was close to midnight of December 30, Rizal Day, when they roused him from the triple-deck bunk. Only in briefs, he and another detainee were shoved into a military jeep for a cold eight-kilometer drive to the next fort. On a grassy hillside they stopped and alit. They instructed him to pick up two twigs, and thrust the first into the ground. Made to lie down with his sole touching the first twig, he was told to stick the second into the soil atop his pate. Having measured his length, he was handed a spade and at gunpoint ordered to start digging.
Thoughts spun in his head. He couldn’t understand what he did wrong that his life must end at such raw age. Mostly he wondered if his family would ever find his body. Suddenly the sergeant barked in Tagalog, “That’s enough.” Flicking a cigarette at the young captive, he laughed, “We were only testing if you bullheads would finally confess where your comrades are.”
He is now 55 years old; 38 years have passed since they made him suffer; 25 years since the toppling of the dictator, and the filing for damages by the victims of torture and the families of the murdered and disappeared. The 7,526 have been informed to receive $1,000 each next week. Justice at last, or small consolation? For him and most of them the construal doesn’t matter. What does is that the world knows the atrocities did happen.
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Lourdes School Quezon City Batch of ’71 reunion: March 19, 2011, 7 p.m., Corinthian Gardens Clubhouse. Attire: casual. Bring along your significant other.
For the damage, and contributions of raffle prizes and drinks, call: Eddie Salonga (0917) 5345392, Lito Carlos (0917) 4561428, Pepelu Zabala (0922) 8008848.
See you first at LSQC alumni homecoming: Feb. 26, 2011, 8 p.m., LSQC Elementary Grounds.
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More and more economists are warning of an economic storm. Food prices will skyrocket worldwide due to runaway fuel rates, crazy weather, harvest shortfalls, rising populations, and diminishing farms.
Supposedly, Asia, where most people live on less than $2 a day, will be hardest hit by the crisis. But Filipinos aren’t preparing, because lulled by recent good news. Overseas workers’ remittances went up 8.2 percent to a record $18.8 billion last year. Inflation is at manageable 4.2 percent. Business confidence is at all-time highs.
Wait till food stocks start disappearing from grocery shelves. Only then will Filipinos move — late as always.
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E-mail: jariusbondoc@workmail.com