The air was relatively cold in a mountain pass somewhere between the borders of Maguindanao and Cotabato. A peaceful Tausug family has just completed their morning prayers when armed men suddenly appeared from nowhere and began ransacking their quiet home. It seems like they were hunting for something. A kind of monster they have unleashed in the first place.
After terrible shouting, screaming, gun-pointing and mind torturing interrogation, it ended up in another morning of frustrating house to house search, the men eventually left leaving everything in disarray. While the elders began picking up the pieces together, the children remained shocked and dazed as things returned to some sort of normality.
“These raids periodically happen so we should prepare” said the father. “After all, 'they' are hiding just around the corner.”
But the eldest kid rebutted, “When would they leave us in peace?” He asked. “Would that be after 'they' have left or after we have finally freed our homeland?”
---
Same thing happens in the heart of the capital.
It was a cloudy Tuesday morning. The Maguindanaos are busy selling their much prized DVDs imported from Malaysia and Indonesia in a strip known simply as Hidalgo. The sales were just starting to pick up after a boring Monday trading when all of a sudden; several trucks of SWAT appeared from every direction.
It was a raid and it was big one. The “watchmen” as they were called were overwhelmed by the massiveness of the operation. In fact, the moment they saw them coming, they immediately abandoned their posts to help their own families save what can be saved from the rampage.
Everything was taken away in a matter of seconds. Not even the hard-to-finds and collectibles were spared from such massive operation. Chaos ruled the streets while these small people were simply powerless to make a resistance. After all, what they were doing is illegal. Besides, it routinely happens anyway.
Too bad, the winds of WPD were blowing in their direction. Not even the tributes to the shit-gods they offer everyday ensured them of a better fate.
After terrible shouting, screaming, gun-pointing and mind torturing interrogation, it ended up in another morning of frustrating house to house search, the men eventually left leaving everything in disarray. While the elders began picking up the pieces together, the children remained shocked and dazed as things returned to some sort of normality.
“These raids periodically happen so we should prepare” said the father. “After all, 'they' are hiding just around the corner.”
But the eldest kid rebutted, “When would they leave us in peace?” He asked. “Would that be after 'they' have left or after we have finally freed our homeland?”
---
Same thing happens in the heart of the capital.
It was a cloudy Tuesday morning. The Maguindanaos are busy selling their much prized DVDs imported from Malaysia and Indonesia in a strip known simply as Hidalgo. The sales were just starting to pick up after a boring Monday trading when all of a sudden; several trucks of SWAT appeared from every direction.
It was a raid and it was big one. The “watchmen” as they were called were overwhelmed by the massiveness of the operation. In fact, the moment they saw them coming, they immediately abandoned their posts to help their own families save what can be saved from the rampage.
Everything was taken away in a matter of seconds. Not even the hard-to-finds and collectibles were spared from such massive operation. Chaos ruled the streets while these small people were simply powerless to make a resistance. After all, what they were doing is illegal. Besides, it routinely happens anyway.
Too bad, the winds of WPD were blowing in their direction. Not even the tributes to the shit-gods they offer everyday ensured them of a better fate.
---
When I arrived there this afternoon to buy some blue porns from my favorite secret alley, everyone was in a gloomy mood.
It was like emptiness reincarnated in the streets: The stalls that lined the block from Jollibee to Hortaleza on the other side, and extending near the Golden Mosque where these people worship Allah were abandoned. I saw some ladies still in their traditional headress comforted themselves by sitting in groups and collectively staring at nothing perhaps trying to figure out how to pay off their debts or how to reclaim the losses they incurred from such raid.
It was like emptiness reincarnated in the streets: The stalls that lined the block from Jollibee to Hortaleza on the other side, and extending near the Golden Mosque where these people worship Allah were abandoned. I saw some ladies still in their traditional headress comforted themselves by sitting in groups and collectively staring at nothing perhaps trying to figure out how to pay off their debts or how to reclaim the losses they incurred from such raid.
While a few started to pick up the pieces, others decided to cease trading for the day. After all another raid may happen anytime. Lives would further be broken if they try to piece it up once again - like all of them living in a continious cycle of nightmare.
Inside my head, I cannot understand what is bad about buying pirated stuffs when you can't actually afford to buy or even find the original one? Is the government truly stupid and hypocrite that while encouraging these people to abandon terrorism, they are the very ones destroying their fragile lives just the same?
Beyond the empty stalls and broken lives, the great Golden Mosque of Quiapo stands proudly amidst the chaos reminding everyone...
Beyond the empty stalls and broken lives, the great Golden Mosque of Quiapo stands proudly amidst the chaos reminding everyone...
Don’t try their patience.
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Even in whispers, one can hear bombs exploding.
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Even in whispers, one can hear bombs exploding.
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