About this site

Tumbang Preso (meaning, knock down the jail) is a game of arrests and escapes where each player's life
chances depends on the toppling of a tin can watched by a tag who plays guard.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

A journal entry

















You cram yourself in in people’s already cramped lives. They say they don’t mind it’s okay but you know that they know that you know and that any moment the taut rope of friendship will snap. You take a deep breath so that you need not smile up at people, because the moment you do you will begin to spin lies and there’ll be no stop to it. At the corner of your eye you see a lover coming into the horizon and you wish she came at another time. But know that it had to be at this time. When you have nothing left of you to show. When you are stripped of everything you own and lay claim to. Work. Political beliefs. A rented house. A warm stove.
She leaves as soon as she arrives. And you crawl back up to people you cursed a hundred times before. You don't look back. You know it's just you dragging your intestines behind you you will see. You look at your friends' faces instead. They stand askance, never facing you. You pretend not to see the hate in their eyes. They make a joke to make light of it. You can’t laugh. To laugh is to be bought back.

You harden yourself some more.

27 november 2007

Water war in MOA-AD territory















“Bawat harvest harasan.” Thus said Barangay Councilor Mando of Rangaban, an interior barangay in Midsayap, North Cotabato, describing the ongoing land conflict between Christian settlers and native Muslims in the area. Lives, houses, properties had been lost to this long-running feud which implicates politicos with landed interests in the area.

One such violent conflict happened in 2004, when a landed settler brought in tenant farmers from the provinces of Sultan Kudarat and South Cotabato to harvest his crop. They were confronted by Moro armed men who told them that the land does not belong to them but to the Moro natives. The Ilonggo farm laborers fled and reported to their relatives in the paramilitary groups. The CVOs arrived a couple of days later brandishing their arms. A violent exchange of fire ensued.

True, it is the settlers who were responsible for developing the agricultural lands in Rangaban, said Councilor Mando. It was them who introduced the irrigation system that now regulates the supply of water into the rice paddies. That’s why their crops are flooded all the time and during months of infrequent rain irrigation water cannot reach the Muslims' farms, other farmers butted in. “The Christian farmers capture the water all to themselves.”

The Moro farmers’ fields are in the low-lying areas, he said, so while the settlers get good harvests, the Muslims get damaged crops all the time. “If not from drought, from too much water.”

So every harvest, gantihan, harasan.

Most of the Moro farmers in Rangaban also cannot afford the P2,300.00 irrigation fee they have to pay every cropping season. Besides, they quite cannot get used to the idea that one should be paying, in thousands of pesos at that, just for using water that is just there in the ground? It is like being taxed for walking in one’s yard.

And it helped some more the misunderstanding that the irrigation administration is also overseen by Christians, who in the heat of the ongoing conflict, display a good bias in favor of settler farmers.

So armed hostilities were a daily show. Christian farmers on their way to harvest would be blocked by Moro armed men. And if the CVOs were around, skirmishes would follow. Civilians, both Muslims and Christians, would get out of the vicinity. This conflict had reached such level of violence that it once necessitated the intervention of the Provincial Government, the military, church leaders and non-government organizations. A Joint Military Action Team (JMAT) composed of Bantay Ceasefire volunteers, Malaysian deputees, MILF and MNLF representatives and soldiers from the 7th IB was set up. This team made up the barangay’s peacebuilding force. It monitored people’s movements, ensuring that civilians, both Muslims and Christians, could go on with their everyday work, sometimes accompanying them to their farms. Still, cases of harassment continued.

One such incident involved an Ilonggo farmer who was strafed by an unidentified assailant while replanting. The farmer was patching bad yellow growths with green ones when bullets started whizzing by his ears. The farmer crawled through the mud and went running in a zigzag even tumbling through the paddies while his assailant had fun shooting at him without really hitting him. He reached the JMAT headquarters in one piece, though, looking like he woke up in a carabao wallow. His newly patched rice paddy was all the worse damaged. It was found out that he was working on borrowed land which was owned by a Muslim neighbor who was his friend. The neighbor, seeing him as dirt poor, let him borrow his small parcel. He did not know the assassin, of course.

“Nagtumbling-tumbling siya,” the Moro farmers recalling the incident said. Laughter lighting the white fires of anger in their eyes.