Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Happiness is a warm gun



 

To think the last couple of weeks you had been wanting to bomb Zamboanga.

The seven- to eight-hour brownouts a day and no one complaining. And even fags who proudly declare they support Ladlad because of discrimination speak in defense of business, a case of Stockholm syndrome, the brownouts are constant, they explain, because that’s how business had to make profits, and when you go around the shops to buy a printer or maybe just some frigging Globe Tattoo you keep on losing and you go to the shops without combing your hair, your backpack’s zipper unsewn in one place, the idiot guard will stop you at the door, No you cannot enter, we do not sell those. You get the shock of your life. You understand it is your has-been look, you know, straws of white hair, uncut nails and scrawny fingers, but when the shop says it is a computer-and-accessories shop and at the door the guard decides you look like the terrorist-thief that you are even with your glasses on and therefore you cannot take a look inside, you kind of understand how much “Jews and dogs not allowed” hurts and did hurt real Jews and real dogs and bitches. So you march in and demand to see the Human Resource department, this is fucking harassment, is there not a thing like consumer rights around here. All the clerks make out like you have not spoken, and close ranks with the guard to say, No, our manager Mr Albert Lim is out, not here, in a meeting and so on. After a long wrench, a senior staff finally apologizes, but the store manager never apologizes, never  sees you even if all of you inch to inch from second to second is on ctv, a dozen of them at you, and it happens regularly, in so many variations, and degrees of degradations if you ever so much as feel degradation and so you understand that if they can do this to you, how much more to the real goddamned terrorist by pedigree fucking Muslims?

And so how you liked to bomb establishment.


Where we are things are fine


"Give me your poor your huddled masses,
let's club them to death, dump them in the boulevard."
                                                       


The evening before the dawn of the “siege” I flew to Davao. I was at the MASS-SPECC dorm at Maa when Dhex texted: Eow, Kah Sheh, bunnal aun kunu bunuh ha Sambo? I checked on Mherz, who was supposed to be doing a lot of video footage and photo documentation with his new Android phone, but the guy is so busy photographing himself and other things; he was momentarily out of commission. Gema, who was scheduled to come to Zamboanga along with two other guys, asked the same. Kah Sheh makalaus da kami duun? Laung awn bunuh duun? 

News-blind and ignorant of what I can allow myself to be ignorant about, I had to get a quick look at the headlines. The social network was crying. Pray for Zamboanga. No to war. It was disorienting. War is on Jolo; not elsewhere. Least of all Zamboanga, where you know who is in power. 

I made another call to Jolo.  Generally, people there are constantly mobile between relatives in Zamboanga and a house in Jolo and they are gadget-savvy: they know more about the world and the city a boat ride away than me. So I was told, it was all the fault of Zamboanga. Why didn’t it grant the MNLF permit to rally, when it was all they asked for. Davao granted it permission; Cotabato granted it permission; how come they can’t have a day in Zamboanga? Now look, they had to take out their arms. I made a call to the houseowner in Zamboanga, who understands I am into some volunteer work for the rest of my life for what they call the-Muslims-are-you-not-afraid?” They tell me things are fine; classes have been suspended; offices and businesses are closed; flights to the city cut; but things are fine; it is only in the coastal communities of Rio Hondo, Sta Barbara, Mampang, Talun-Talun, Sta Catalina, where we live things are fine just to follow instruction, and the instruction is for everyone to stay at home. A friend who works in the peacekeeping force informed me, shutdown and cutoff are the operative words.  And they burned a Muslim community in Zamboanga, Sta. Barbara. And there are texts messages circulating, threats that they will burn the city down.

That couldn’t be the work of the MNLF, why would the MNLF burn a Muslim community, I protested.

“Kaya gani.”

By late evening of the 10th I finally got to Mherz. He is holed up in the gimba, some rural side I please don’t announce the name of lest they bomb it;  he is with his father and siblings, hiding with other families. They had been there since five in the afternoon because they had been forewarned and told to evacuate. The military brigade camp was attacked at around 8pm, he said, and in Maimbung soldiers and MNLF are in a gunfight. “Limatag na in bunuh ha Sug.” The war has spread in Sulu. "

 I made another call to another Tausug friend, “Of course it is the work of the military, you idiot.”

Napoles is about to sing, she said, and if she sings, the top brass in the military establishment will fall, South Com will be red-faced.”

You saying they are burning the Muslim villages just as a diversionary tactic??? The goddamned Muslim villages as collateral damage???

And didn’t they do that before? Remember Estrada? If this little drama sparks a real rebellion, hah. You go watch TV. You saw those old men? I am not impressed if I see young Muslim boys raise fists and arms, they are just playing games, but if I see old men carrying rifles standing by what Maas Misuari stands for, all things considered, all his faults included…. Hah.