There are many names I need to memorize, but due to sheer number and the circumstances surrounding them, I may end up frothing in the mouth before I am successful.
In one group are the consular failures. There is assistant labor attache Antonio Villafuerte, who is accused of having tried to take advantage of and even rape the very women who tried to seek his protection at the Philippine Overseas Labor Office in Saudi Arabia.
Already in trouble in a foreign land, these women testified that they turned to their compatriot for help, but ended up getting abused. As to lewd text messages sent in Filipino to one woman, the defense of Villiafuerte was that he wanted to impress her with his fluency in the language, but that those messages had no malice.
The second name is Adam Musa, who is likewise accused of trying to cover up sexual abuse allegations. This officer had a choice between investigating rapes being committed within his jurisdiction, including by his driver, and doing nothing. Unfortunately, he chose a worse option, and he tried to buy the woman's silence.
The third name is the woman at the very top, Rosalinda Baldoz. This miss is the head of the Department of Labor, and she is a woman. Despite her ability to make a difference and stand up for her fellow women who had already been through harrowing experiences, her department ends up imposing these sentences on their brethren: a reprimand, and a month's suspension.
Her reason? Oh, because the accusers supposedly failed to give further testimony. I could just burst into flames at this rationale.
The other set of names I should memorize, were the victims. Too often, we forget who they are, individuals whose lives have been given even more scars by those paid to protect them. There is Angel, who was raped by her Arab employer, and then asked by Antonio Villafuerte whether she enjoyed that abuse.
There is Josie Sales, who was attacked by the driver of Adam Musa, and then presented with 10,000 riyales by Musa so she would shut up. That, and a threat not to sign her release papers unless she tried to cooperate.
My assignment doesn't stop there. There are more names. Names of victims that will not be remembered five years from now. Even one year from now. There is Heiderliza Ib-ib, 24 years young and her sister Lorena, 21. There is Angeline Quilano, 21, Shelalyn Habagat, 19, Jelsa Saburiga, 19, Renalyn de Baguio, 21, Maricirs Palmesa Calumba, 21; and Floralyn Balucos, 20.
Who were these women, you might ask? These were the young girls from the province of Negros Oriental, recruited when they were minors to come into the big city and seek their fortunes. The fortune that they found, however, was death in each other's embraces, as a fire took their lives in the sweatshop they were imprisoned in.
Prison is the right term for it, as every night, they were locked in by their employer, so they couldn't enjoy the bright lights of Metro Manila. When the fire came, they weren't as lucky as the other girls, able to escape using the air conditioning vent.
Whose names should I remember for this? The employer is identified as Juanito Go, president of the company, key keeper, and now accused murderer. Son in law Joey Cabrera is also reportedly involved. Then there is Barangay Chair woman Grace Corpus, who apparently received complaints about the prison a year ago - and yet still allowed the prison to exist in her territory. Now, she seems to be relishing the telling of the tale, knowing such details as how little the girls earned every month and how few the days off (four every year) the girls were allowed to take. Will she be as voluble when questions are asked about her potential negligence?
I could call these individuals many names, but right now, the law only lets me call them "suspects". If the facts are corroborated, I would like them to become "convicts".