The D Spot

We woke up one fine morning to learn about the despicable and brutal massacre by a hundred heavily armed men, of the supporters of Buluan Vice Mayor Toto Mangudadatu and their companions (mostly women, journalists covering the event and some motorists who happened to be in the same location) while they were on their way to the Comelec office to file the Certificate of Candidacy on behalf of the Vice Mayor. A total of 57 (current tally) bodies were found in the massacre site in Barangay Saniag, Ampatuan town—the graves apparently prepared way ahead of time.

Where women should be respected, they were raped, killed and their bodies mutilated.

Where lawyers accompanying them to aid them in due process were raped, killed and their bodies mutilated.

Where journalists, doing their jobs in the name of free press and democracy were brutally killed.

Where motorist who had nothing to do with them, and just happened to be in the same site, were brutally killed just the same.

It’s so pathetic! So sad—the heart is heavy, to the point of anger. To the point of hopelessness, especially when you hear your leader’s spokesman say,

“There are certain procedures we must follow.”

“We don’t want people to be unnecessarily tried through publicity.”

“We don’t have full control of the situation on the ground, mortals as we are.”

“Because we are only human[s], we cannot stop these things from happening, but we will just do whatever is legally possible within human limits to be able to stop [them] and improve on our performance as a government and as a country.”

WTF WTF WTF

A few days after the massacre—even after world leaders have decried the brutality, no arrests have been made. People have been waiting for the President’s next step—her immediate step. And there was none that the people could see, none that would assure them that everything was under control and that justice was being served. People could only speculate, people could only wait, and curse, yes, CURSE!

This despite the fact that the reason behind the massacre, the people behind the massacre, and the evidences (text messages were received by the Vice Mayor from his wife while the carnage was going on; the earlier threats that anyone going against him would be sliced to pieces, and witnesses’ statements) were as clear as daylight.

It was only last Thursday that the main perpetrator was arrested (and he continues to claim that he turned himself in—not arrested), without handcuffs as what policemen do to an ordinary citizen who is accused of robbery.  What is robbery compared to a carnage of innocent men and women.

And now, look at the effect of this to my family. Everyday since that day, when we watch the news, read the papers, and get updates from the Internet or from text messages, we all feel the heaviness of heart, the sadness and cry in between.

Now, my children don’t look forward to celebrating Christmas the happy way. Yes, we will celebrate Christmas, going to Church, thanking the good Lord for the blessings that have come our way, the challenges, too, and those that will come our way.

This year is different—there have been calamities the past years in the country and many parts of the world, which have claimed lives and properties, but not this way.

It will take a  while for the memories of this carnage to leave our hearts. Still we dread what will happen next—with the elections forthcoming. Many things are yet to happen—the worst is yet to be, I may say.

Are we safe? Are our children safe?

Right now, I can only pray…pray for a miracle. Dear Lord…bless our land, bless our leaders, bless the Filipino people, bless us all. Amen.

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