Family feud at takut-takut

July  21, 2011, Thursday, at five o’ clock in the afternoon Fatma, 52 year old, went out of her house to see what was going on, because there was a commotion caused by a shooting. She heard a shot fired into the air.

Her neighbors told her that Abousuhod’s son was shot at the marketplace while collecting rent for the Mayor’s office. He was reported to have died on the spot.  The boy was 15-year old, a high school fourth year student of Hajji Butu School of Arts and Trade (HABSAT). Instead of picking the dead body, the boy’s father immediately took out his Uzzi and boarded a motorcycle, then went straight to Takut-takut.  Rosalyn Sarapuddin, 18, happened into the path of Abousuhod who was on her way home and he shot her right in front of the house of the barangay captain. The barangay captain, Jamhali Sirajani, was at the time in Zamboanga City. The OIC, Mujir Arasad, and Abdulgani Mijan, a barangay councilor, and Benjamin Mijan, a barangay tanod, were there. Abousuhod told them and all in sight to get out if they didn’t want to be involved. “Bang kamu di mabaya malapay, ig kamu.” The three barangay officials quit the scene.  Rosalyn was screaming, “Way aku lamud ha hiluhala!” (I am not involved in your feud!) when bullets were shot at her. Both her upper legs wounded, two each. Her right arm was also wounded. A bullet ripped through her stomach.

Kah Hulma was on her way out to get her 17-year old daughter who was at school. Hearing about the trouble between the two feuding families, she went out of her house worried about her safety. She saw Rosalyn sprawled on the ground surrounded by many people. She told the crowd, “Daha niyu pahospital!” but no one moved. The men told her they can’t do that because Abousuhod was waiting way ahead with the threat that anybody who will bring the victim to the hospital will be shot at as well. There was another motorcycle waiting at the entrance of the gate as back-up. Abousuhod had two other men with him, the driver and another man. But none of the men was known to the residents.

Since no one would dare bring the girl to the hospital, Kah Hulma flagged a tricycle and told the men to lift her into the vehicle. She was afraid the girl would hemorrhage to death. Her 20-year old son Fahad was shouting and crying,  Inah! Ayaw kah tumabang! In nanimbak nagtatagad ha duhul! (“Mother, don’t you help her! The killer is waiting at the gate!”) Angry beyond despair, Kah Hulma did not listen to him and went on with her way. Luck was with her that day because before they reached the entrance, a police jeep was on its way to the place of the incident. She stopped them and asked them to move the bleeding girl into their vehicle. She accompanied them to the hospital.

In 2009 following a quarrel over the collection of rent in the marketplace, Abousuhod had shot a certain Sergeant Makdirul resulting to the latter’s death. In revenge, Sergeant Makdirul’s son shot at Abousuhod’s 15-year-old son on July 21, 2011. To escape retaliation, Makdirul’s sons thereafter quit the town and are said to be now in Parang, Sulu Islands. Rosalyn is a niece of Sgt. Makdirul. Only she and her 43-year old mother, Anurra, have remained in Jolo. Thinking they are both women of no consequence to either families, they thought the feud between the men won’t get at them. Rosalyn survived the shooting and at the moment, she and her mother are said to have disappeared from the town as well.

PERCH HIGH, SEE FARTHER!

also at WWW.AF3IRM.ORG  

 Justice for Palestine: A Call to Action from Indigenous and Women of Color Feminists

Between June 14 and June 23, 2011, a delegation of 11 scholars, activists, and artists visited occupied Palestine.  As indigenous and women of color feminists involved in multiple social justice struggles, we sought to affirm our association with the growing international movement for a free Palestine.  We wanted to see for ourselves the conditions under which Palestinian people live and struggle against what we can now confidently name as the Israeli project of apartheid and ethnic cleansing.  Each and every one of us—including those members of our delegation who grew up in the Jim Crow South, in apartheid South Africa, and on Indian reservations in the U.S.—was shocked by what we saw.  In this statement we describe some of our experiences and issue an urgent call to others who share our commitment to racial justice, equality, and freedom.

During our short stay in Palestine, we met with academics, students, youth, leaders of civic organizations, elected officials, trade unionists, political leaders, artists, and civil society activists, as well as residents of refugee camps and villages that have been recently attacked by Israeli soldiers and settlers.  Everyone we encountered—in Nablus, Awarta, Balata, Jerusalem, Hebron, Dheisheh, Bethlehem, Birzeit, Ramallah, Um el-Fahem, and Haifa—asked us to tell the truth about life under occupation and about their unwavering commitment to a free Palestine. We were deeply impressed by people’s insistence on the linkages between the movement for a free Palestine and struggles for justice throughout the world; as Martin Luther King, Jr. insisted throughout his life, “Justice is indivisible. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”

Traveling by bus throughout the country, we saw vast numbers of Israeli settlements ominously perched in the hills, bearing witness to the systematic confiscation of Palestinian land in flagrant violation of international law and United Nations resolutions.  We met with refugees across the country whose families had been evicted from their homes by Zionist forces, their land confiscated, their villages and olive groves razed.  As a consequence of this ongoing displacement, Palestinians comprise the largest refugee population in the world (over five million), the majority living within 100 kilometers of their natal homes, villages, and farmlands.  In defiance of United Nations Resolution 194, Israel has an active policy of opposing the right of Palestinian refugees to return to their ancestral homes and lands on the grounds that they are not entitled to exercise the Israeli Law of Return, which is reserved for Jews.

In Sheikh Jarrah, a neighborhood in eastern occupied Jerusalem, we met an 88-year-old woman who was forcibly evicted in the middle of the night; she watched as the Israeli military moved settlers into her house a mere two hours later.  Now living in the small back rooms of what was once her large family residence, she defiantly asserted that neither Israel’s courts nor its military could ever force her from her home.  In the city of Hebron, we were stunned by the conspicuous presence of Israeli soldiers, who maintain veritable conditions of apartheid for the city’s Palestinian population of almost 200,000, as against its 700 Jewish settlers. We crossed several Israeli checkpoints designed to control Palestinian movement on West Bank roads and along the Green Line.  Throughout our stay, we met Palestinians who, because of Israel’s annexation of Jerusalem and plans to remove its native population, have been denied entry to the Holy City.  We spoke to a man who lives ten minutes away from Jerusalem but who has not been able to enter the city for twenty-seven years. The Israeli government thus continues to wage a demographic war for Jewish dominance over the Palestinian population.

We were never able to escape the jarring sight of the ubiquitous apartheid wall, which stands in contempt of international law and human rights principles.  Constructed of twenty-five-foot-high concrete slabs, electrified cyclone fencing, and winding razor wire, it almost completely encloses the West Bank and extends well east of the Green Line marking Israel’s pre-1967 borders.  It snakes its way through ancient olive groves, destroying the beauty of the landscape, dividing communities and families, severing farmers from their fields and depriving them of their livelihood.  In Abu Dis, the wall cuts across the campus of Al Quds University through the soccer field.  In Qalqiliya, we saw massive gates built to control the entry and access of Palestinians to their lands and homes, including a gated corridor through which Palestinians with increasingly rare Israeli-issued permits are processed as they enter Israel for work, sustaining the very state that has displaced them.  Palestinian children are forced through similar corridors, lining-up for hours twice each day to attend school.  As one Palestinian colleague put it, “Occupied Palestine is the largest prison in the world.”

An extensive prison system bolsters the occupation and suppresses resistance.  Everywhere we went we met people who had either been imprisoned themselves or had relatives who had been incarcerated.  Twenty thousand Palestinians are locked inside Israeli prisons, at least 8,000 of them are political prisoners and more than 300 are children.  In Jerusalem, we met with members of the Palestinian Legislative Council who are being protected from arrest by the International Committee of the Red Cross.  In Um el-Fahem, we met with an Islamist leader just after his release from prison and heard a riveting account of his experience on the Mavi Marmara and the 2010 Gaza Flotilla.  The criminalization of their political activity, and that of the many Palestinians we met, was a constant and harrowing theme. 

We also came to understand how overt repression is buttressed by deceptive representations of the state of Israel as the most developed social democracy in the region.  As feminists, we deplore the Israeli practice of “pink-washing,” the state’s use of ostensible support for gender and sexual equality to dress-up its occupation.  In Palestine, we consistently found evidence and analyses of a more substantive approach to an indivisible justice.  We met the President and the leadership of the Arab Feminist Union and several other women’s groups in Nablus who spoke about the role and struggles of Palestinian women on several fronts.  We visited one of the oldest women’s empowerment centers in Palestine, In’ash al-Usra, and learned about various income-generating cultural projects.  We also spoke with Palestinian Queers for BDS [Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions], young organizers who frame the struggle for gender and sexual justice as part and parcel of a comprehensive framework for self-determination and liberation.  Feminist colleagues at Birzeit University, An-Najah University, and Mada al-Carmel spoke to us about the organic linkage of anti-colonial resistance with gender and sexual equality, as well as about the transformative role Palestinian institutions of higher education play in these struggles.

We were continually inspired by the deep and abiding spirit of resistance in the stories people told us, in the murals inside buildings such as Ibdaa Center in Dheisheh Refugee Camp, in slogans painted on the apartheid wall in Qalqiliya, Bethlehem, and Abu Dis, in the education of young children, and in the commitment to emancipatory knowledge production.  At our meeting with the Boycott National Committee—an umbrella alliance of over 200 Palestinian civil society organizations, including the General Union of Palestinian Women, the General Union of Palestinian Workers, the Palestinian Academic and Cultural Boycott of Israel [PACBI], and the Palestinian Network of NGOs—we were humbled by their appeal: “We are not asking you for heroic action or to form freedom brigades. We are simply asking you not to be complicit in perpetuating the crimes of the Israeli state.” 

Therefore, we unequivocally endorse the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions Campaign. The purpose of this campaign is to pressure Israeli state-sponsored institutions to adhere to international law, basic human rights, and democratic principles as a condition for just and equitable social relations.  We reject the argument that to criticize the State of Israel is anti-Semitic.  We stand with Palestinians, an increasing number of Jews, and other human rights activists all over the world in condemning the flagrant injustices of the Israeli occupation.

We call upon all of our academic and activist colleagues in the U.S. and elsewhere to join us by endorsing the BDS campaign and by working to end U.S. financial support, at $8.2 million daily, for the Israeli state and its occupation.  We call upon all people of conscience to engage in serious dialogue about Palestine and to acknowledge connections between the Palestinian cause and other struggles for justice.  Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. 

Rabab Abdulhadi, San Francisco State University*

Ayoka Chenzira, artist and filmmaker, Atlanta, GA

Angela Y. Davis, University of California, Santa Cruz*

Gina Dent, University of California, Santa Cruz*

G. Melissa Garcia, Ph.D. Candidate, Yale University*

Anna Romina Guevarra, author and sociologist, Chicago, IL

Beverly Guy-Sheftall, author, Atlanta, GA

Premilla Nadasen, author, New York, NY

Barbara Ransby, author and historian, Chicago, IL

Chandra Talpade Mohanty, Syracuse University*

Waziyatawin, University of Victoria*

*For identification purposes only

For press inquiries, please contact feministdelegation@gmail.com.

ANO ANG BANGSAMORO WOMAN?

A YOUNG TAUSUG MAN SPEAKS UP

by Zmira Layson

Ngayon karamihan sa amin hindi na aktib, yung iba nag-asawa na, nag-abroad, tapos yung pinakalider namin naisyuhan ng warrant of arrest, napilitang magtago. Pero iyong mga babaeng nakasama namin, nanduon pa rin. Among the women and men na inorganisa namin, ang natitira talaga ay ang mga babae. Sa experience ko on the ground, na-realize ko na mas matibay talaga ang mga babae kaysa sa mga lalaki.

Lunsad: Para sa iyo, ano ba ang dapat na Bangsamoro woman?

Wahid Kasiri: Ilabas niya ang kanyang kakayahan, at hindi papayag na gawing hindrance ang pagkababae niya para mag-participate sa lahat ng bagay, in all fields. Halimbawa, yung sa Qur’an mismo, sa Hadith, wala akong nakikitang babaeng nagi-interpret ng Qur-an, kaya kung makikita mo, yung mga translations ng Qur’an minsan ay masasabi nating maraming babaeng hindi nasa-satisfied, dahil ang nagta-translate ay puro na lang lalaki, walang babae. Bakit wala?

Lunsad: Di ba bawal sa babae iyon?

WK: Di puedeng maging bawal. Kung basahin n’yo ang Qur’an, kay Yusuf Ali, halimbawa, sinabi sa second or sa first page pa lang na it’s the responsibility of both men and women to read the Qur’an according to the capacity of their knowledge. Walang sinabi doon na di puwede ang babae.

Lunsad: Gaano ba ka popular ang ganitong pag-iisip?

WK: Hindi popular, di kasi masiyadong niri-recognize ang kakayahan ng mga babae. May pagka-macho pa rin. Kaya nga gawin nating popular.

Lunsad: Ikaw pa’no mo nakuha ang ganitong frame of mind?

WK: Out of realization sa actual situation. In early 2000, everyday, me patayan sa downtown Jolo, tinatapon ang patay doon sa malapit sa munisipyo, tapos, yung mga classmates ko sa hayskul, nagkikitakita kami at nag-uusap. Dun kami magkikitakita sa bahay nung isa naming kasama. Tapos later nagsasamasama ako sa rali, tulong sa human rights issue. Ngayon karamihan sa amin hindi na aktib, yung iba nag-asawa na, nag-abroad, tapos yung pinakalider namin naisyuhan ng warrant of arrest, napilitang magtago. Pero iyong mga babaeng nakasama namin, nanduon pa rin. Among the women and men na inorganisa namin, ang natitira talaga ay ang mga babae. Parang wake-up call ito sa mga Muslim. Ang tibay ng kababaihan parang matagal nang nakakalimutan.

Lunsad: Paano ma-maximize ang participation ng kababaihan?

WK: Una, sa organizing. Hirap kasi, minsan, maging ang mga babae mismo, tanggap nila na sila’y babae. O dahil babae lang sila, “hanggang dito lang kami, hanggang kusina lang kami”. Kaya dapat yata ang mga initiative para sa pagbabago, dapat sa babae din manggagaling. At sa mga lalaki din. Ang kailangan lang ay tao o grupo willing to organize them at mag-ikot para unti-unti lalabas iyong nakatagong lakas na iyon ng kababaihan.

Ngayon meron na tayong internet, madali nang gumawa ng publication, puwedeng puwede na. Ito’y mga tools para mamulat ang kababaihan sa pag-participate, isang bagay na dapat na i-welcome din ng kalalakihan.

Para sa akin, walang problema sa akin kung babae ang mag-lead. Gustong-gusto kong ma-maximize, ma-utilize ang capacity ng babae. Nakikita ko kasi ang titibay ng mga babae, especially sa human rights field. Sa experience ko on the ground, na-realize ko na mas matibay talaga ang mga babae kaysa sa mga lalaki. Mas magaling kumuha ng information, mas effective sa human rights work.

Lunsad: Bakit matibay?

WK: Matibay dahil nandiyan pa sila hanggang ngayon. Despite sa lahat ng harassments. Sa experience ko, marami kami sa umpisa, tapos unti-unti, nawawala. Iyong ibang mga lider namin, nilakad ng military at ng government para mapaalis sa Sulu mismo.

Ang iba, pinapaalis ng parents nila, ang iba nagtatrabaho na, lahat may kanya-kanyang dahilan. Pati ako kailangan kong umalis muna. Pero iyong mga kababaihan, pag-uwi ko nandoon pa rin, dedicated sa trabaho, ang iba kahit halos wala nang kahit alawans man lang.

Lunsad: May mga kababaihan rin ba sa inyo na kumu-question sa kanilang traditional role sa Bangsamoro society?

WK: Alam nila, pero okay lang sa kanila. Pero meron naman tayong na-organize na hanggang ngayon ay active pa rin, nandoon pa rin sa community. Sila iyong matatapang na nagbo-volunteer na pumunta sa site ng aerial bombing. Until now, these women volunteers are still active and organized. Na-recognize na ang capacity ng kababaihan sa ganitong mga bagay. Ang isang hindi ko makalimutan si Farida. Noong nag-impose ng ID system sa Sulu pagkatapos na i-declare ang emergency rule, ang sabi ni Governor Tan may ready funds na intended for the ID. Ang funds na binanggit niya ay P120 million. Tumayo si Farida, sabi niya, “Gov, kung ginamit mo na lang kaya para sa patubig ang funds na iyan, makakatulong ka pa sa mga consitutuents mo.” Remember, Governor iyon ha, hindi ordinary governor si Governor Tan, at babae ang nagsasalita. Nagulat si Gov, unexpected niya na may maglakas loob na babae, buntis pa.
Sa nakikita ko, lumalabas na unti-unti ang mga kababaihan ngayaon at sayang kapag di ipagpatuloy.

Lunsad: Nag-aarmas din ba ang mga babae sa Moro liberation movement?

WK: Meron silang ni-recruit na to the extent nag-aarmas pero para sa akin, pangdisplay lang iyon. Although may mga training din sila, pero kulang pa. Hindi na-maximize ang power ng kababaihan para mag-participate sa revolution. Meron pa ring pagka-macho. Kung babae ka, babae ka. Di ka puede doon, pang lalaki iyon.

Lunsad: Paano maximize?

WK: I-recognize talaga ang kanyang kakayahan. Kung makausap mo siya, treat her as equal, huwag iparamdam na may kaibahan, na babae lang siya, walang kakayahan. Kasi ang capacity ng knowledge, walang pagkakaiba, ma-babae man o ma-lalaki. Sa nakikita ko, pumupunta ako minsan sa mga kampo ng MNLF, may mga kababaihan pero wala sa kanilang umuupo at sumasali sa meeting. Kung meron man, hindi rin nagsasalita. Nandoon kaagad ang gap, parang may wall kaagad. Babae ka, lalaki ka. Sa nakikita ko, disadvantage iyon sa rebolusyon. Instead na makatulong at ma-maximize ang kakayahan ng babae sa pagkikilos, nagiging disadvantage siya.

Two Poems from Ambung Batak

1 Pagbunuh Akkal Akkal

Parinta nagpikilan
manga military general nagkaisunan
pa gubnul timangdan
pilak kawasa iyumpan
lupah sug hantang akkalan

Ubus nagpilma
general nag ordil
opisyal iban tindug pulitik piyulin
sinapang iban sin
kan gubnul hi bin

mangga mayul iban gubnul nagpikil..
nagbista...alta iban kawasa
yaun na ha lawm lima
abut nagkaisunan
jimanji pa general
misan uni in diman hirihil
basta sinapang hiumpan

unu pa kaw, general nagkuman
mayul gubnul timabang
lupah sug dahpugan!

sundalu natipun na
helecopter yaun na
bam kanyun tiluh
nabal plane simaunuh
timuyung pa sin pagbunuh!

Sundalu limahsay
nanunug lupah bay
pagkahi ta piyagtawakkal
biyaman miyultal
nagsulang saling in patay

tumtumun ta ra kuman ha atay
bunuh way kasabunnalan
Lupah sug kiyaakkalan
ha ngan sin kasawa iban sinapang
pagkahi hinang dagangan!



2 Maap, Kah Tuan!

Inihambuuk pangasubu
pa manga bilal iban mga kaguruhan ko
dih na aku maglampik
arapun maapa niyu man ako
bang sammal dungugun sin manga maas biyah kaniyu

maytah bahah hikasipug
bang awn ma-reyp ha kauman mu?
Maas uway mahinang
anak iyusibaan tahan dakuman
tumapuk sin kasipugan.

Batah dih na makapagsumbung
siyasanggupan hilapun
pa manga lahasiyah patayun

maap da kuman kah tuan
hikapangasubu ku ra kuman
maytah bihayan in hijajaan
sin biyah kaniyuh kimakamput agama Islam
pila na budjang budjang nagtitirung
pulak pulak adlaw iyausibaan ditun ha lungan?

Jagjag na?*

Ask anyone who had gotten back to Sulu, how is the old hometown? And they will tell you: Wayna. Jagjag na. Hopeless.

It is still my hometown, a middle-aged woman just home from the Middle East, said to Lunsad. She and her family lived for a little while in the KSA, he as an engineer, she as a nurse. Her husband has remained there, to make a little more money, she takes care of the three children now to study in a private grade school in Zamboanga. She is faring well, now with a nice house in the city and some savings in the bank. Her relatives back in Jolo are still there in Asturias, but cannot welcome them home in the islands. She is told not to go there, not even for a short vacation, they say there’s nothing to see there anymore. So for a couple of decades now, she has not stepped back on her hometown and it angers her so, she says, for even if she and her family were doing well abroad, Jolo is still her home; abroad and elsewhere she will always be a stranger and an exile.

Such stories, we can say, are found anywhere else in the country—the countryside being pillaged by politicians and businessmen, the heirs to the land and its workers and legitimate occupants nailed down in poverty or are forced to leave and find other shores. The better-off send their sons and daughters to the cities; the sons and daughters raise their own families in the cities. So what remains are less than what we all are and could be as a nation.

The more one sees of Jolo, the less one hopes. The food scarcity is at its worst. Talipao, the province’s food basket once, now tagged an Abu Sayyaf lair, is host to the military’s so-called surgical operation, making agricultural production next to impossible. The local town executives, with advise from the same military, has moreover imposed a curfew on the fishing villages. After eleven in the evening the fishermen could no longer fish. Eleven o’ clock is when the military deploy their spy planes. If one is sighted at sea or anywhere else outside of one’s house after eleven o’ clock, they are contraband and, ergo, open target.

The curfew, of course, only applies to small fishers. The trawlers scouring the deep are exempt. So are the helicopters nloading men and equipment for the ongoing oil drillings. Bud Datu, Bud Bagsak and Bud Tumatangis are now host to sophisticated, and strategically positioned, defense structures and facilities.

US military presence in the Sulu Islands is placed at around 200 GIs, excluding the engineering and medical divisions which have orders to stay in camp. In the Bud Datu base where around 50 GIs are housed, the military base is erected in what used to be burial grounds of Muslim missionaries. Massacres had been committed here as well. At present, the place has been virtually converted into a spa garden complete with sports facilities and state-of-the-art binoculars with separate quarters for Moro soldiers and women soldiers. On good days, prostitutes would be brought in, either from Manila or Zamboanga, sometimes aboard helicopters carrying the officers.

These American GIs take part not only in intelligence work but also in military combat. More importantly, they are there to secure the ongoing oil drillings in the islands. Now and then we get news from Jolo saying US soldiers died from malaria or from drowning when the truth is they actually died in encounters they are not supposed to take part in.

But of course, it is always easier to critique the world than to change it. And those of us who are stuck in the islands seeing it all and living it as well –including the flood, the water scarcity, the endless power interruptions, the thefts in the offices, the  insurmountability of it all-- have our one foot to the door. Surely, there is a better world elsewhere?

We each are either part of the problem, or part of the solution.

*In a complete state of ruin

RAPE, POLITICIANS, REBEL GROUPS AND WOMEN

 
ni Salma Alawi

“It’s not that we don’t trust the MNLF anymore. What I’m saying is, it’s not within their powers to help us. Especially if you are up against politicians.”

Early this year Lunsad was able to interview Fatima, one of the survivors of the 2009 gang rapes in Sulu. It was a sad encounter. She did not want to talk; but we wanted to talk. She would rather that the whole thing be buried behind her, it is much too painful to recall, she said. Her mother too would rather that we find for her a scholarship that would allow her to take up Midwifery so that she can perhaps work abroad as care giver and forget. We had our way: we  talked, she talked, her mother talked. The following are excerpts from our exchanges.  

Salma: Can you tell me  why you said you would rather not talk about it?

Fatima: I am afraid. They might retaliate and come after my family.

Salma: Do you feel angry towards what has happened?

Fatima: I want to kill them all. But I cannot do it.

Salma: But suppose someone volunteers to do that, that wouldn’t be possible either, right? They will come after your family?

Fatima: Yes.

Salma: Don’t you have relatives who can help?

Fatima: I have, but they’re also afraid.

Salma: Yes. Because you are up against very powerful people.

Fatima: Yes.  Politicians.

Salma:  That’s true. Did it ever enter your mind to seek the help of... well, but then there are no women MNLF here, right? But did you think of seeking the help of the MNLF?

Inah: They don’t have the power.

Salma: Against politicians?

Salma: But they used to do that. Right, Reham? The MNLF used to do that, say if someone had been raped, they take up the case, exact justice for the victim, right? They don’t do that anymore?

Rehamna: They don’t anymore. Maybe they are just waiting for people to approach them and seek their help.

Salma: Then why didn’t you approach them for help?

Rehamna: We did not seek their help because the victims’ families also did not ask us to. Had they asked, we would have gone there to get help.

Salma: I see.

Salma: (to Fatima’s mother) Why was that, Inah?

Inah: They can do nothing.

Salma: You don’t believe anymore that the MNLF is in a position to help you?

Inah:  No. It’s not that we have no trust in the MNLF. What I’m saying is, it’s not within their powers to be able to help us. Especially if your enemies are politicians. I think there’s really nothing that the MNLF can do.

Salma: Is that so? But they are revolutionaries.

Inah: There is nothing they can do, Dear.

Salma: Nothing?

Rehamna: What I know is, they are revolutionaries and not legal like us.

Salma: (to Fatima) Did they pay you so that you won’t talk?

Fatima: No.

Salma: Because they knew that you won’t talk.

Inah: Even if they pay me one million they cannot return what they have taken away from my daughter. They abused her and had robbed her of her dignity.

Salma:  You were also not compensated, say...for instance, as part of asking for forgiveness.

Fatima: None.

Salma: None? Isn’t that that in Islam if you had committed an offense you are supposed to give blood money and ask for forgiveness. Isn’t it?

Fatima: Sara.

Sitti: Justice system

Inah: I didn’t bring that up [to the Sharia Court] because I was afraid of violence.

Rehamna: They are afraid of a violent break-out. It might set off a violent confrontation between families. Rido.

Sitti: Ya. Family feud.

Salma: I see. Because once you report to the armed group and they take the case up, it means war. Everyone will be up in arms.

Rehamna: Yes. That’s what they are afraid of. It’s not because they don’t trust the MNLF.

Inah: We cannot fight.

Rehamna: That’s what they’re so afraid of.

Salma: Besides, there will be more casualties.

Inah: Yes. They have the money, guns. They have the men. We will be slaughtered. That’s why I did not go up there to the hills to report, that’s why I did not go to the barangays. At least our relatives can see the situation and will understand.  

Salma: So your relatives in the hills did not know about what had been done to your daughter?

Inah: I explained to them that nothing had been done to my daughter.

Salma:  You told them that nothing has been done, nothing happened?

Rehamna: That’s how the others knew it. But most did not know about it.

Salma: And if they ask, do you tell them the truth?

Inah: I told them wala, nothing, that they gave her back to me.

Salma: You told them that it is not true.

Rehamna: Ah... she really did not tell them what happened, she just told them that her daughter had been kidnapped and was returned to her. She has to be careful about the truth.

Fatima: They will start shooting.

Salma: Yes, because your mother has got relatives, men who ask if it was true that you had been kidnapped? Right?

Fatima: Yes.

Inah: They know that she had been kidnapped, but they did not know about what happened.

Salma: Ah. They were not told she had been raped.

Rehamna: Yes.

Salma:  Yes. Because the moment they know they will bring their arms out and there will be a confrontation.

Inah: Yes. And if the other party also bring out their weapons, there will be a shootout.

Salma: Right. An entire clan will be wiped out.

Inah: If there is going to be a confrontation we don’t have the money to buy arms. And if someone dies, we don’t have the money to bury him.

Salma: Yes, true.

Rehamna: Yes, they are their relatives, so they have to look after their burial, too.

Salma: Yes. Correct. Is it true that your father wanted to borrow a gun from Abdul to avenge your honor? Abdul said to me that soon after you got back home your father went to Abdul to borrow a rifle.  

Inah: No, that wasn’t so.

Salma: Not true?

Inah: Not true. Abdul’s concern was that in case we would be attacked in our house, he said if we're afraid that they will come after us, he could lend us a rifle to defend ourselves.  

Salma: (to Rehamna) What is she saying?

Rehamna: She said they did not go to Abdul to borrow a rifle. Because of course they are afraid. But they did not go to borrow a rifle. It was Abdul who offered them a gun to defend themselves, in case they feared that the other side went to their house.

Inah: Because Tausugs are like that.

Rehamna: He was the one who made the offer. If you are afraid, he said, I can borrow a rifle for you.

Inah: [He said] if they went to your house, I could get a rifle for you to defend yourselves.

Salma: Ah, I see.

Inah: I was afraid.

Salma: (to Fatima) Did the way you look at yourself change after what happened to you? Would you say your self-esteem went down?

Fatima: Yes.  

Salma: Really? Don’t. That wasn’t your fault.

Inah:  For one month she did not go out. She was full of shame, Ma’am.

Sitti: There are so many victims, she is not alone. She is lucky she came out alive.

Inah: She alone was released alive!

Salma: Yes! Count yourself lucky!

Rehamna: You should not lower your self-esteem. What happened was none of your fault.

Salma: Right. They’re the ones who ought to be ashamed! That’s what I hate. You’re the aggrieved and now you’re the one who should feel shame? Not like that, please. They're the ones who ought to be ashamed.

Inah: After a while when many people came to our house and talked to her, she felt better. She used to cry all day. She wouldn't eat, she wouldn't take anything. I would make rice porridge, because, my God, how thin she had become, her stomach shrank!

Rehamna: She said she felt better after people, women, visited her.

Inah: After they talked to her.

Salma: True. The reason why we don’t speak up sometimes is because we thought we are alone. We thought all the world looks down on us.

Sitti: True. If you let it out you will realize that it’s not just you, there are others.

Salma: You will know that you are not alone in that situation!

Inah: She just kept on crying. I said, that’s enough. You didn’t ask for it, Fatima. What is shameful is if you’re the one who went after them and was spurned. That is what’s shameful. You are not to blame, I told her. You didn’t want it. Even old women like me, I said, we can do nothing against it if they want to do it to us.

Salma: Can you say that again, Inah?

Inah: I said she would cry all day. I would tell her to stop blaming herself, she didn’t plan it. What’s not good is if she herself offered her body to them and they puked on it. That is what’s disgraceful.

Sitti: Yes. They even raped an old woman in Tanjung. She was a little out of her head and the drug addicts made a sport of her. They raped her and killed her and had her stand on her head in the sand with her legs sprawled apart. They had her body strung onto dried branches of a tree and left her there dead like that on the shore. She was raped. There was a bottle in her vagina. And she was so old, her hair all white.

Rehamna: She was a retarded. She lived in Tanjung. They raped her.

Sitti: An old woman, they had fun. They raped her then killed her then opened her legs under the sun like that. That brutal.

Inah: Day and night she did nothing but cry. She wouldn’t eat.

Salma: She lost appetite.

Inah: She could not take anything. There was food but she would not eat. I would bring her food but she would not take take any. She said I could not swallow it, Inah. I would rather die.  It was good she changed her mind, she said. Now she could not bring herself to kill herself. Now she would rather that someone did it for her and would wish that someone came and killed her and finished it all for her. I said don’t talk like that.

Sitti: Don’t think like that. Life is good.

Inah: I said don’t think like that. It’s not your fault.

Rehamna: That’s true. It’s not your fault.

Sitti: And even if you want to die if God doesn’t permit that you die now, you won’t die. You should be strong. Who knows, one day God will make those rapists see what they did to you and make them suffer what you suffer now.

Inah: I pray to God that they will suffer twice, that what they did to my daughter will be done to them a hundredfold. I am grateful to God that Gasman (one of the rapists) is now getting his rewards. He got into a fight last election and was injured. And Jikiri’s son got a blackeye. I tell God, Oh Allah, give them more of the evil days they gave us.

Sitti: Jikiri lost in the last election. Their luck has run out. They are out of power now. 

Rehamna: The son was hit with a slab of wood with a nail on one end.

Salma: (to Fatima) So you were able to identify all the men that raped you?

Inah: She doesn’t know them until now.

Sitti: Two families victimized her.

Inah: Some she doesn’t know.

Sitti: She doesn’t know them but we have sources.

Salma: The guy in ponytail. He was jailed, right? Was he freed?

Sitti: No. They released the other suspect.

Salma: Not the guy in ponytail?

Sitti: His mother said, I will not go home unless I take my son home with me.

Salma: (to Fatima) So you were able to identify the guy in ponytail?

Sitti: His mother has a pistol in her bag.

Salma: Whose mother was she?

Sitti: The guy in ponytail.

Rehamna: The Buclao son’s mother.

Inah: The one who was able to identify Buclao’s son was another rape victim, not my daughter.

Sitti: The one who escaped?

Rehamna: The one they were not able to rape.

Sitti: The one who ran.

Rehamna: The one who testified that even the driver was masturbating. All the men in the van were naked. When she was thrown inside the van they were all naked and even the driver was masturbating. She was kidnapped in Busbus.

Inah: All parts of her body were mashed by the men.

Sitti: Six men.

Fatima: Nine.

Sitti: She said she was not raped but all parts of her body were touched except the inside part of her vagina.

Inah: Nine men did that to her.

Salma: Their hands are dirty.

Sitti: When the van’s door opened, she jumped and ran. They could not go after her because they were all naked. The only one who was not naked was the son who went down to get something from inside the house. When the mother saw, she shouted, Now look she escaped! Go after her!

Salma: Really?

Sitti: The neighbors saw. It was noon. Twelve o’ clock midday.

Salma: They could not go after her because they were all naked.

Sitti: The rapist’s mother was so angry. I will not leave unless I bring with me my son. Over my dead body. She shouted at Fatima, You? Did you say my son raped you? How could he, my son is a fag! He’s a fag! The Mayor also said to her, Dear, you must have made a mistake, I know that boy, he is gay!

Salma: Really?

Sitti: You wonder how did he know.

Inah: When they asked Fatima to identify the rapist, it was frightening. The Police Chief was there inside and he took our side. He wanted to take our side. Then the Governor called him and asked him to leave. Then they asked all the police to leave. Only the CVOs (the Civilian Emergency Forces, the Governor’s private army) remained. You understand? Hah. They’re more dangerous because they’re Lost Command. They protect the men, the rapists, not the raped! So now they own everyone. They have everyone on their side.

Salma: What did she say? The rapists get protection? Not the raped?  

Sitti: She says it was the rapists that got protection.

Inah: The victim gets no protection.

Salma: Ya. They think that way. The rapists are now endangered, that’s why they stopped the gang rape. The raped women and their families they don't think of them as endangered.

Sitti: It’s like that here in Jolo, everything upside down.

Salma: Even in other places it’s like that. The rapists are in danger now because of human rights groups so they stopped the rape for a while. How brilliant their minds.

Inah: Nah!

Salma: Imagine? The rapists as the ones who are in danger?!?

Inah: They went to the Mayor’s Office fully armed. A convoy of armed men. We were so afraid. We could not move! What can one do except leave them to God. We cannot fight them.

Sitti: You are up against government forces.

Inah: You are up against the Mayor, the Congressman, the Governor. You are up against everyone! The Board Member, the Vice Mayor, all of them. What can you do. Where will you go. They have plenty of money. They can hire a man to finish you off.

Salma: Yes. That’s true.

Sitti: One pull of the trigger.

Inah: So we postponed the case, dear. Rather that get into big trouble, make it small.

Salma: That girl that escaped, did they strip her naked?

Sitti: I think not. The moment she stepped down she ran as fast as she could.

Inah: Did she run straight to the police?

Sitti: Towards the houses where there were many people. So they were not able to go after her.

Salma: They made a mistake. They were all naked, haha. (Laughter)

Sitti: They were all high in drugs.

Inah: They showed her their private parts.  

Salma: And the driver was masturbating?

Sitti: Before they use a woman they take drugs first.

Inah:  And then people say that they got money. They were paid, so they did not talk.

Salma: After that girl escaped, she went straight to their house? Then she reported to the police?

Rehamna: No. That’s the one who sought the protection of the Mayor.

Salma: Ah, the one under the Mayor’s custody. Okay.

Rehamna: She’s the one they paid.

Salma: The one they sent away?

Sitti: It must be easier for her because she was not raped.

Rehamna: Because she’s married. She is married to a foreigner, an Arab.

Salma: She was married?

Rehamna: Yes. At the time she just came back from Saudi.

Salma: How old was she? Did you say nineteen?

Rehamna: I cannot remember anymore, but that’s the story. That she was married to an Arab. And the reason they did not rape her was because she told them that she’s two-months pregnant and that she’s married to an Arab.

Salma: I see.

Rehamna: Yes.

Salma: But it isn’t true.

Rehamna: It isn’t true that she was pregnant, but it’s true that she’s married. She’s the same one who retracted her statements because she was paid.

Salma: But what the Mayor said... that the rapist was a fag? That’s a nice one.

Sitti: Ya. He said he is a fag, he could have not raped you.

Salma: Lord, they go after us for this. Rumour-mongering! (to Fatima) Wait. Before that happened, did you have a boyfriend?

Fatima: None.

Salma: None? C’mon, tell me the truth. You liked no one? Before that happened, was there someone?

Fatima: None. I had suitors but I liked no one.

Sitti: Dedma. No like. Haha.

Salma: You don’t like them.

Sitti: Not her type.

Salma: What’s your type?

Fatima: None.

Salma: None. Okay. Me, too. No like. (Laughter)


(For the original Taglish-Tausug version please see: http://lunsadlupahsug.blogspot.com/2011/05)/womenspeak-on-rape.html

Womenspeak on RAPE

by Salma Alawi

“Hindi sa wala kaming tiwala sa MNLF. Ang sabi ko, wala silang lakas para tulungan kami. Lalo na kapag ang kalaban mo ay mga pulitiko.”

Early this year Lunsad was able to interview Fatima, one of the survivors of the 2009 gang rapes in Sulu. It was a sad encounter. She did not want to talk; we wanted to talk. She would rather that the whole thing be buried behind her, it is much too painful to recall, she said. Her mother too would rather that we find for her a scholarship that would allow her to take up Midwifery so that she can perhaps work abroad as care giver and forget. Somehow we had our way: we  talked, she talked, her mother talked. The following are excerpts from our exchanges.  

Salma: Puwede mo bang ipaliwanag sa akin kung bakit ayaw mo nang mapag-usapan?

Fatima: Natatakot ako. Kasi baka maghiganti sila at madamay pa ang pamilya ko.

Salma: May nararamdaman ka bang galit sa nangyari sa iyo?

Fatima: Mayron. Gusto kong patayin silang lahat pero hindi ko magawa.

Salma: Kung may magboluntir na patayin sila hindi rin puwede, no? Baka patayin ang pamilya mo?

Fatima: Oo.

Salma: Wala kang kamag-anak na puwedeng maningil sa kanila?

Fatima: Mayroon naman kaya lang natatakot.

Salma: Oo, kasi mas makapangyarihan sila.

Fatima: Oo. Pulitik.

Salma:  Oo. Totoo iyan. Buti hindi pumasok sa isip mo na... Sabagay wala namang MNLF na babae dito, no? Hindi ka nagkaisip magpatulong sa MNLF?

Inah: Wala silang power.

Salma: Laban sa mga pulitiko?

Salma: Pero di ba dati ginagawa iyan nila. Hindi ba, Reham? Di ba dati ang MNLF ginagawa iyan nila, kapag may nari-rape sila iyong tumutulong sa mga biktima? Ngayon hindi na nila ginagawa iyan?

Rehamna: Hindi na nila ginagawa. Siguro hinihintay lang din nila na may lumapit sa kanila.

Salma: Ba’t hindi kayo lumapit?

Rehamna: Hindi rin kami lumapit doon kasi hindi rin naman nila hinihingi na lumapit kami doon. Kung naghingi rin sila na lumapit kami doon, lumapit din kami.

Salma: A, oo.

Salma: (kay Inah) Bakit iyon, Inah?

Inah: Wala silang magawa.

Salma: Dahil hindi na kayo naniniwala na may power ang MNLF na tulungan kayo?

Inah:  Bukun. Bukun way kami pangandul ha MNLF. In pagiyanun ku way sila kusug tumabang kamu. Labiawla na bang in atu mu, pulitik. Ha pangatud ku, way tuud mahinang sin mga MNLF.

Salma: Ganun? Mga revolutionary iyon sila e.

Inah: Way ra mahinang, Indah.

Salma: Way ra?

Rehamna: At saka ang pagkakaalam ko mga rebolusyunaryo iyan sila, hindi legal tulad natin.

Salma: (kay Fatima) Hindi ka naman binayaran para hindi magsalita?

Fatima: Hindi.

Salma: Dahil alam nila na hindi ka magsalita.

Inah: Minsan bayaran aku hangka milyon di nila mabalik in kasambuhan iban pagmartabat sin anak ku piyangusibaan nila.

Salma: Hindi rin kayo binayaran na...halimbawa, iyong parang bilang paghingi ng patawad.

Fatima: Wala.

Salma: Wala? Di ba sa Islam pag magkasala ka, magbibigay ka ng blood money at hihingi ng patawad. Di ba mayroong ganyan?

Fatima: Sara. (Justice system)

Inah: Way ku diya madtu pagimba pasal mabuga aku magbunuh.

Rehamna: Kasi ang kinatatakutan nila iyon bang ang maglaban-laban doon. Maggiyera ba. Mag-family feud.

Salma: Ah. Kasi kung magsumbong ka sa armado, giyera na. Labasan na ng mga baril.

Rehamna: Huon. Iyan kasi ang kinatatakutan nila. Hindi man sa wala silang tiwala.

Inah: Wala kaming kalaban-laban.

Rehamna: Iyan iyong kinatatakutan nila ba.

Salma: At saka mas marami ang mamamatay.

Inah: Huon. Marami silang pera, maraming baril, marami silang tau. Nah, wala kaming kalaban-laban. Kaya hindi ko ipinunta doon sa mga bukid, sa mga barangay. Makahati pa iyon in manga usba waris namu. Piyungpung ku kiyadtu ku paparinta.

Salma: So hindi alam ng mga usba waris ninyo sa gimba ang nangyari sa anak ninyo?

Inah: Ipinaliwanag ko sa kanila wala nangyari sa anak ko.

Salma:  Sinabi ninyo na wala, hindi nangyari?

Rehamna: Akala ng iba. Pero iyong karamihan hindi nila alam.

Salma: Tapos kapag nagtatanong sila kung totoo ba sinasabi ninyo ang totoo?

Inah: Sinabi ko wala, ibinalik sadja sa akin.

Salma: Na hindi totoo.

Rehamna: Ah... hindi niya talaga sinabi ang nangyari, sinabi niya lang na kinidnap. Pinag-iingatan niya.

Fatima: Magbarilan.

Salma: A, oo, kasi may mga kamag-anak ang nanay mo, may mga lalaki na nagtanong kung totoo ba na kinidnap ka? Ganun?

Fatima: Huon.

Inah: Makaingat sila na kinidnap pero wala sila nakaingat sa naghapen.

Salma: Ah. Hindi sinabi na ni-rape.

Rehamna: Oo.

Salma:  Oo. Kasi kung malaman nila maglalabas sila ng armas at maggigiyera.

Inah: Oo. At kung maglabas naman iyon sa kabila magputukan na.

Salma: Oo. Baka magkaubusan ng usba waris.

Inah: Kung magbunuh, na, wala kaming ibili ng baril. Kung mayroong taong namatay wala kaming ipanglibing.

Salma: Oo, totoo.

Rehamna: Oo, kasi relatives din nila, e.

Salma: Oo. Tama rin. Totoo ba iyong tatay mo gustong maghiram ng baril kay Abdul para patayin iyong nang-rape sa iyo? Magbus daw siya sinapang. Laung hi Abdul kaku, noong bago ka pa ibinalik nung mga nangkidnap sa iyo, gusto raw maghiram sinapang tatay mo.

Inah: Way ba.

Salma: Hindi totoo?

Inah: Hindi. In kay Abdul bang kami muga kadtuun kami sin manga tau pabay, awn kami ipanghali.

Salma: Ano daw?

Rehamna: Sabi niya, hindi sila humiram. Kasi siyempre natatakot din sila. Hindi sila naghiram ng baril.

Rehamna: Kasi natatakot sila na baka puntahan sila ng tao doon sa bahay, so ipapahiram niya, magpapahiram siya ng baril, pangdepensa.

Inah: Kasi ganyan ang mga Tausug.

Rehamna: Siya iyong nag-offer. Kung natatakot kayo, sabi niya.

Inah: Kung puntahan ka ba doon sa bahay, hiraman ku kamu para mayroon kamu ipanglaban.

Salma: A, ganun.

Inah: Miyuga aku.

Salma: Nagbago ba ang pagtingin mo sa sarili mo pagkatapos na nangyari iyon? Pakiramdam mo bumaba ang pagtingin mo sa sarili?

Fatima: Oo. Bumaba.

Salma: Talaga? Huwag naman. Hindi mo naman kasalanan iyon.

Inah:  Isang buwan hindi siya lumalabas. Mahiya iyan siya sa tao Ma’am.

Sitti: Andami-daming nabibiktima hindi lang siya. Suwerte nga siya kasi nabuhay siya, e.

Inah: Siya lang ang binuhay!

Salma: Oo! Count yourself lucky!

Rehamna: Ayaw kaw magpikil mababa in pangatud mu ha baran mu, bukun mu iyan dusa.

Salma: Oo. Dapat sila ang mahiya! Iyan ang nakakainis ba. Ikaw na nga ang naagrabiyado ikaw pa ang mahiya. Huwag naman. Dapat sila ang mahiya.

Inah: Subay siya mataud na nakapangasubu kaniya ampa biya dimayawdayaw in pangatayan niya. Kasi nagtangis hadja. Di kumaun, di mag-unu, magmistang hadja aku napit adlaw mikit na in tiyan. Mistangan ku, kaun kaw nangku.

Rehamna: Sabi niya saka na gumaan ang pakiramdam niya noong marami na ang kumausap sa kanya.

Inah: Noong marami na ang nagtanong-tanong sa kanya.

Salma: Oo. Kaya tayo minsan hindi nagsasalita dahil akala natin mag-isa lang tayo. Akala natin mababa ang tingin ng tao sa atin.

Sitti: Oo. Kapag inilabas mo malalaman mo na hindi pala ikaw lang.

Salma: Malalaman mo na hindi ka pala nag-iisa sa ganoong sitwasyon!

Inah: Magtangis sadja siya. Laung ku, sari na. Bukun mu iyan tiyuud, Rehamna. Ayaw kaw masusa, mangi hadja, laung ku, bang kaw dimaplag, madtu kanila. Pag-ubus, siyuka kaw. Amo yadtu makasipug. Paggayan laung ku, wayruun mu ra tiyuud. Iban bukum mu iyan kabayaan. Misan laung ku in tau maas biya kamu way mahinang bang kabayaan nila.

Salma: Puwede ninyong ulitin, Inah?

Inah: Mag-iyak lang siya lagi. Sabi ko, huwag mo sisihin sarili mo, hindi mo iyan sinadya. Ang pangit kung ikaw ang nag-alok ng sarili mo sa kanila, tapos isinuka ka. Iyon ang nakakahiya. Hindi mo iyon sinadya. Kahit kami mga matatanda, sabi ko, kung gusto nila gawin sa amin iyon, wala kaming magagawa.

Sitti: Huun. Awn tuud dupang didtu ha Tanjung yusibaan sin manga drug addict. Dupang na, piyagtripan pa. Maas na. Piyatay ubus piyasisingkang. As if piyangusibaan tuud. Ampa malaas na, uban na ba in buhuk, maas na.

Rehamna: Meron nga isang matanda doon sa Tanjung, retarded ba, ginahasa ng mga drug addict.

Sitti: Matanda na, pinagtripan pa. Pinatay tapos pinabikaka. Brutal talaga pagreyp ba. Matanda na, puti na ba ang buhok, matanda na talaga.

Inah: Gabi at araw, walang kain, wala na iyan ginawa, umiiyak na lang at umiiyak. Walang pagkain..

Salma: Wala siyang ganang kumain.

Inah: Di siya makakaun. Awn pagkaun. Dahun madtu kaniya sah di siya makakaun. Laung niya, di ku inah, matun. Mabaya pa aku matay. Daipara laung niya Inah biyaun nakuan na in isip ku, nagdugaing na. Iban di ku na laung niya kaya patayun in sarili ku. Amun magdugsu aku. Malingkat pa laung niya magpapatay na aku makaminsan da. Laung ku, Ay, ayaw biyadtu.

Salma: Gusto na niya mamatay?

Inah: Dalhan ng pagkain, ayaw niya kumain. Sabi niya, Inah, hindi makadaan sa lalamunan ko ba, mas gugustuhin ko pang mamatay. Pagkaubus laung niya, mabuti na lang Inah, bumuti-buti na ang pag-iisip ko. Naiba na. Hindi ko na kayang patayin ang sarili ko, hindi ko na kayang saksakin ang sarili ko. Mabuti pa daw may magpatay sa kanya makaminsan lang. Sabi ko, ayaw biyadtu, Rayang. 

Sitti: Huwag kang ganyan. Masarap mabuhay.

Inah: Di manjari yadtu. Bukun mu iyan dusa.

Rehamna: Oo. Hindi mo iyan kasalanan.

Sitti: Kasi, Kah, minsan kaw iyan magpakamatay bang dih itugbal sin Tuhan, di da kan mapatay. Iban pagpatay mu multad. Suwerte nga kaw. 

Sitti: Kahit gusto mong magpakamatay, kung ayaw ng Diyos, hindi ka mamamatay. Kaya dapat strong kaw. Malay mu, awn mga taym ipaglanggal mu in nangnguwan kaymu. Awn sila manga inah, although biyaun di ipananampa kanila sin Tuhan pero awn taym ipananamdin sin tuhan in kiyananaman mu. Kasi in sara sin Tuhan, adil. Di siya magbalu in pag-adil niya. May araw na iparamdam din ng Tuhan sa mga nang-ano sa iyo ang nararamdaman mo ngayon. 

Inah: Iban piyangayu ku ra suhud paTuhan bang man isab palabihun pa daying ha kiyananaman sin anak ku. Pagsukulan ku pa awlahutaala in manga yadtu didto amun paggiyanun nila hi Gasman (one of the rapists) hati niya nagbunuh na, nagpatay na, hati in manga anak hi Jikiri yaun, amun eleksiyun yaun nagpatay na, nagginis na iban wayna kawasa. Nagbinasa nabagbag in mata sin anak hi Jikiri. Nanangku lahilahaillawla tuhan ku dihili tuud kasusahan labi daing kamu.

Salma: Ano uli iyon?

Rehamna: Hihihingi raw niya sa Diyos na bigyan sila ng mas grabe pang paghihirap kaysa naranasan ng anak niya.

Inah: Nagpapasalamat ako sa Diyos sa mga nangyari at iyong si Gasman (one of the rapists), nakipaggiyera na, nakipagpatayan, tapos iyong anak ni Jikiri, noong last election, na, nagpatayan at kung ano-ano nang ang nangyari. Nakipag-away tapos nablack eye. Sabi ko, Ay Diyos Ko Na Mahabagin, bigyan Nyo pa sila ng marami pang problema na mas malaki pa kaysa sa binigay nila sa amin.

Sitti: Wayna hi Jikiri, nagkangingi na. Kasi iyong last election natalo sila, nagbunuh talaga, bayolente talaga tapos nasira iyong mata ng anak ni Jikiri. Wayna hi Jikiri. Sirang-sira na talaga.

Inah: Piyagkakal in u sin lansang.

Rehamna: Pinukpuk ang ulo ng kahoy na may pako.

Sitti: Pagkatapus in terms of power wala na sila. Dalawang pamilya na ang nasira.

Salma: So lahat ng mga lalaki na nangreyp sa iyo kilala mo?

Inah: Di niya kaingatan san sakarang pa bihaun.

Rehamna: Hindi niya alam hanggang ngayon.

Sitti: Dalawang pamilya iyong nangbiktima sa kanya.

Inah: In kaibanan di niya kilala.

Salma: Ang iba hindi niya kilala.

Sitti: Hindi niya kilala pero may source din kami.

Salma: Pero di ba iyong naka-ponytail...di ba nahuli iyon, nakulong iyon? Pinakawalan din?

Sitti: Pinakawalan iyong isa.

Salma: Iyong naka-ponytail?

Sitti: Nag-istori hi Abdul in agi sin Inah di aku muwi dih bang di ku mara in anak ku.

Rehamna: Ang sabi nung nanay (ng isa sa mga suspek), di ako uuwi hangga’t hindi ko nadala ang anak ko.

Salma: Naidentify mo iyong naka-ponytail.

Sitti: May dalang baril ang nanay. Basta mga politicians may mga security.

Salma: Kaninong nanay iyon?

Sitti: Nanay ng naka-ponytail.

Salma: Bakit ano iyon, politician? Di ba may babae doon na naglabas ng baril sa bag niya, sino iyon.

Sitti: Iyon na nga.

Salma: Nanay ng naka-ponytail?

Sitti: Oo.

Rehamna: Nanay ni Buclao.

Inah: In nakaidentify sin anak hi Buclao dugaing. Dugaing babai. Dalawa sila iyong nabiktim doon sa munisipal.

Sitti: Duha ba yadtu sila nagdura?

Inah: Iyong isang babae, in na-identify niya anak hi Buclao.

Sitti: Amun nasagkaw?

Rehamna: Iyong hindi na-rape.

Sitti: Iyong nakatakbo.

Rehamna: Iyong kinukuwento niya na pati iyong driver nagma-masturbate at saka nakahubad daw lahat. Pagsakay daw niya nakahubad na lahat. Hinila siya diyan sa Busbus at ipinasok sa van. Tapos pagpasok niya sa van nakahubad na iyong mga lalaki, pati iyong driver, nagmamasturbate pa.

Inah: Inano siya sa likod. Ginanyan.

Salma: Itinapon sa [backseat]?

Inah: Oo.[

Sitti: Malaking van siya.

Inah: Lahat ng katawan niya naano na ng mga lalaki.

Sitti: Sabi ni Abdul six.

Fatima: Siyam.

Sitti: Sinabi niya daw hindi siya na-rape pero lahat ng parte ng katawan na-touch except iyong pinasukan ng ari.

Inah: Siyam yadtu nag-ano sa kanya.

Salma: Madumi iyong mga kamay nila.

Sitti: Pagbukas ng dyip nagtakbo siya. Hindi makahabol iyong mga rapist kasi nakahubad. Iyong hindi lang nakahubad iyong bumaba sa bahay dahil may kukunin. Tapos tumakbo talaga siya. Nang nakita nung nanay, sabi ng nanay, Nah, yadtu, na limaksu, nakapaguy! Habulin ninyo! Humabol daw pati nanay.

Salma: Ganun?

Sitti: Nakita ng mga kapitbahay. Kasi tanghali. Lisag hangpu tagduwa.

Salma: Twelve o’ clock ng tanghali?

Sitti: Oo. Tanghaling tapat.

Salma: Hindi makatakbo para habulin dahil nakahubad.

Sitti: Sabi daw ng nanay nung rapist, hindi ako aalis dito hangga’t hindi ko makuha ang anak ko. Magkamatayan tayo dito. Sabi pa raw niya kay Fatima, Hoy ikaw gagasahain ka ng anak ko? Bading iyan e. Bading yan! Paano ka gagahasain niyan! Sinabi naman daw ng Mayol, Ay Indah, marih nagkamali kaw, kasi alam ko iyang bata iyan, bantut iyan.

Salma: Ganun?

Inah: Amun pag-identify namu yadtu makabuga sa yadtu. Duun man in chief police ha lawum ha, pag-ubus, biyan baya-baya in PD bihan dumapit. Ha? Tiyawagan sin Gobnol piaig. Nah. Pagpaig nila bihan nag-ig na in pulis katan. Na CVO ra kuman. Hm? Nah. Mas makabuga bang in CVO. Nah, Lost Command. Kanila na katan. In pyutiksunan mga usug. Ang mga gang rape.

Rehamna: Nakakatakot iyong pag-identify nila ng mga rapists.

Inah: Nandoon sa loob ang Chief of Police. Tapos gusto ng PD magkampi sa amin. Na? Tinawagan siya ng Governor. Pinaalis. Pagkaalis nila, nagsialisan na lahat ng pulis. CVO na lang ang natira. Mas nakatakot ang CVO. Kasi Lost Command. Na, kanila na lahat. Ang pinroteksyunan iyong mga lalaki. Iyong nag-gang rape.

Salma: Unu yadtu? In rapists ang protected?  

Sitti: Feeling niya ang may proteksiyon doon, iyong nang-gang rape.

Inah: Ang victim walang proteksiyon.

Salma: Sa isang interview ko ang tinawag na endangered, iyong mga nang-rape. Hindi pa iyong na-rape o pamilya ng na-rape.

Sitti: Baliktad yan dito sa Jolo.

Salma: Kahit sa ibang lugar ganyan din. In danger na raw ang mga rapists ngayon kaya tumahimik na sila. Ang galing talaga nila mag-isip.

Inah: Nah!

Salma: Sila pa iyong in danger. Ang mga nang-rape.

Inah: Mga ilang sasakyan ang may baril! Na, kaya kami hindi makakilos. Sige na lang, ipasa-Diyos na lang. Ganun na lang. Hindi namin sila kaya.

Sitti: Kasi kalaban mo gobyerno e.

Inah: Kalaban mo hi mayor, congressman, in kalaban mo gobnol, kalaban mo lahat! Bold mimbil, vice mayor, nah yun kalaban mo. Nah. Biyariin in kalaban mu kanila. In sila mataud sin. Ipapatay hadja pa tau bayaran nila pilak.

Salma: Oo. Totoo.

Sitti: Hangka sasaat dah.

Rehamna: Isang ganyan ka lang.

Inah: Biadtu. Hangkan na bihan. Piyuspun namu na Indah. Gaman lumuag nah. Daing sin kumu.

Sitti: Kaysa raw lumaki, mas gustuhin paniyang lumiit.

Salma: Tapos iyong bata na nakatakbo, hinubaran siya sa loob ng sasakyan o hindi?

Sitti: Parang hindi. Basta bugit butawan dimagan. Dere-deretso, bahala saan papunta.

Inah: Harap papulis ba dimagan?

Sitti: Palawum kabayan. Papasok sa mga kabahayan. Hindi sila nahabol.

Salma: Na-wrong sila kasi hubad na agad sila e. Hindi na sila makatakbo. (Laughter)

Sitti: Nagda-drugs e.

Inah: Nagpapakita na sin kanila. Biya naha-high na katan sadtu.

Salma: Pati driver nagma-masturbate?

Sitti: Bago gumamit [ng babae] mag-drug sila.

Inah: Tapos sinabi nila, laung nila, kiyapilakan. Kiyabayaran sila.

Sitti: Nabayaran daw ng pera.

Salma: Nakatakbo iyong bata, tapos dumiretso sa kanila? Saka nagsumbong.

Rehamna: Hindi. Bale, iyon iyong sa custody ni Mayor.

Salma: A, okay.

Rehamna: Binayaran talaga iyon.

Salma: iyon iyong pinaalis?

Sitti: Pumayag siya kasi hindi siya na-rape.

Rehamna: Kasi may asawa din siya, e. Foreigner, Arabo.

Salma: May asawa iyon?

Rehamna: Oo. Kasi kakauwi niya lang galing Saudi.

Salma: Ilang taon? Nineteen?

Rehamna: Ewan ko, hindi ko maalala kung ilang taon siya, basta ganun ang kuwento. Na iyon siya may asawa siyang Arab. Kaya nga hindi siya na-rape kasi sinabihan niya na buntis siya ng two months.

Salma: A, ganun.

Rehamna: Oo. Ganun iyon.

Salma: Pero hindi totoo.

Rehamna: Pero hindi totoong buntis siya, pero totoong may asawa siya. Iyon din siya ang nag-retract ng kanyang affidavit kasi binayaran siya.

Salma: Pero maganda iyong ang sinabi ni Mayul... bantut iyon rapist?

Sitti: Oo. Sabi ni Mayul Amin, bantut iyan.

Salma: Naku, patay. Patay tayo nito. Tsismis. Teka, bago nangyari iyon, may boypren ka ba?

Fatima: Wala.

Salma: Wala kang nagugustuhan? Iyong totoo ba. Bago nangyari iyon, may nanliligaw sa iyo?

Fatima: Way. May nanliligaw pero ayaw ko.

Sitti: Dedma. Ayaw niya. Haha.

Salma: Hindi mo type?

Sitti: Hindi niya type.

Salma: Ano iyong type mo?

Fatima: Wala.

Salma: Wala. Okay. Pareho tayo. Wala. (Laughter)