SILENT WITNESSES
(Mga tahimik na saksi)
The stories you will read are based on official accounts given by survivors of martial law atrocities in the Philippines.
ABOUT THIS SHOW
PARENTAL GUIDANCE IS
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.
It has been more than 30 years since the fall of the Marcos regime. Time can dull memory, rendering it unreliable. Was it truly that bad? Did it even really happen?
For this project, we read dozens of affidavits by survivors of atrocities committed by the Marcos regime, and then distilled them into three-sentence stories.
We believe it is important to tell these stories, even if the effect can be traumatizing and jarring. We trust that visiting parents and teachers can help to provide context and guidance. We also hope they can use these stories as starting points for meaningful conversations over what is a very sensitive topic, as well as tools for imparting empathy and a deeper appreciation of history.
We wish to emphasize, too - all these stories were based on experiences of survivors. Despite the odds, they survived to tell these tales. This project then is also a tribute to the resilience of the human spirit.
Memory is an underrated but extremely important thing. We remember and learn from the past, because we want our children to lead better lives than us.
#neveragain #neverforget
Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”
--George Santayana.
Beyond my individual torturers, I hold the Marcos dictatorship responsible for institutionalizing the patterns of abuse and atrocity. I want my children and grandchildren to read, at the right time, what their own father suffered. I hope they get a more intimate and personal sense of this period of our history, and learn its lessons so that it may never happen again.
Higit pa sa mga indibidwal na nagpahirap at nanakit sa akin, sinisisi ko ang diktaduryang Marcos. Nais kong mabasa ng aking mga anak at apo, sa tamang panahon, ang paghihirap na naranasan ng kanilang ama. Umaasa ako na magiging mas taimtim at personal ang kanilang damdamin tungkol sa panahon na ito ng ating kasaysayan, at matutunan nila ang mga aral nito upang hindi na ito muling maulit.
While on my way to bring my carabao to a pasture, I met a group of soldiers who asked why I had allowed rebels to sleep in our house. Before I could answer and deny their accusation, they began beating me up and it took me five months to recuperate. I just kept silent all this time because everyone knew that anybody who complained would simply be killed.
Habang dinadala ko ang aking kalabaw sa pastulan, may nakasalubong akong mga sundalo at tinanong nila ako kung bakit ko pinapatulog ang mga rebelde sa aming bahay. Bago ko pa masagot at matanggihan ang kanilang bintang, bigla nila akong kinuyog at limang buwan bago ako gumaling. Nanahimik na lang ako nang matagal na panahon dahil alam ng lahat na papatayin na lang ang sinumang magsusumbong.
I was placed in solitary confinement for months, and during that time, my family never knew where I was or what had happened to me. Our children suffered the most as they were deprived of material support, and paternal care and guidance. Later, when I was tried, and even though the case - no case - ever prospered, their classmates treated them as though I was a convicted criminal.
Binartolina ako nang maraming buwan, at sa buong panahong iyon, hindi man lang alam ng pamilya ko kung nasaan ako o kung ano na ang nangyari sa akin. Ang mga anak namin ang pinakanaghirap dahil nawalan sila ng sustentong materyal, at ng alaga at patnubay ng magulang. Noong nililitis ako, at hindi naman umuusad ang kaso laban sa akin, trinato sila ng mga kaklase nila na parang anak sila ng kriminal.
Worse, while I was being tortured by the Philippine Constabulary, they would also go to my wife who was working in the market, to ask for money in exchange for my freedom. After I was released, I found out that we were already bankrupt, and had lost our shop in the market. My mother-in-law had to take us in while I recuperated from the torture.
Ang mas masakit pa, habang pinahihirapan ako ng Philippine Constabulary, pinupuntahan pa pala nila ang aking asawa na nagtatrabaho sa palengke, at hihingan ito ng pera kapalit ng aking kalayaan. Nung ako’y nakalaya, nalaman ko na wala na kaming pera, at wala na rin ang tindahan namin sa palengke. Nakitira na lang kami sa aking biyenan habang nagpapagaling ako mula sa pagpapahirap na dinanas ko.
They admitted arresting my son and bringing him to their main camp. At the camp, one of the officers told me that he was sent home on the same day he was taken there. To this day, I have not yet seen my son.
Inamin nila na inaresto nila ang anak ko at dinala siya sa kanilang kampo. Doon, sinabi ng isa sa mga opisyal sa akin na pinauwi na daw nila siya iyong araw ding iyon. Hanggang ngayon, hindi ko pa nakikita ang aking anak.
Blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back, I was made to kneel and told to say my last prayers. I was given one last chance to confess a crime I didn’t commit, and when I kept silent, I felt the barrel of a gun press against my temple as a man counted down, “three, two, one.”
I swallowed hard at “zero”, and heard a click.
Habang nakapiring at nakagapos ang aking mga kamay sa likod ko, pinaluhod nila ako at sinabihang magdasal na. Binigyan nila ako ng huling pagkakataon na umamin sa isang krimen na wala naman akong kinalaman, at nung nanahimik lang ako, naramdaman ko ang dulo ng isang baril na nakadiin sa aking sentido habang may isang nagbilang, “three, two, one.” Napalulon ako sa “zero”, at narinig ko ang isang lagitik.
I don’t know why, but he suddenly struck me with the butt of an M16 rifle. I fell to the ground, and he hit me again, harder this time. He told me to admit that my son had joined the New People’s Army, or else he was going to shoot me.
Hindi ko alam kung bakit, ngunit bigla niya akong hinampas ng kanyang M16. Bumagsak ako sa lupa, at hinampas niya akong muli, mas malakas pa sa nauna. Pilit niya akong pinaaamin na sumanib ang anak ko sa NPA, at kung hindi ko daw ito aaminin ay babarilin niya ako.
One of the soldiers unzipped my pants and lowered them.
Although I wanted so much to hide the fear inside me, I could not help crying out loud.
I prayed.
Tinanggal ng isa sa mga sundalo ang pantalon ko.
Pilit kong itinatago ang takot na nararamdaman ko, ngunit hindi ko napigilang sumigaw.
Nagdasal na lang ako.
First, they blindfolded me. Then they started asking me questions, and for each one, there was an accompanying blow to a part of my body. Then, they used my back as their ashtray.
Una, piniringan nila ako. Tapos ay pinagtatanong nila ako, at ang bawat tanong ay may kasamang suntok sa isang bahagi ng aking katawan. Pagkatapos, ginamit nilang ashtray ang likod ko.
I boarded their jeep and was immediately blindfolded. They started to slap me, asking me questions and forcing me to admit my involvement in the underground movement. When I refused to answer, they placed bullets between the fingers of my right hand and squeezed it very hard.
Sumakay ako sa dyip nila at agad nila akong piniringan. Pinagsasampal-sampal nila ako at pinagtatatanong, pilit na pinaaamin na kasali ako sa mga rebelde. Nung hindi nila ako mapasagot, naglagay sila ng mga bala sa pagitan ng aking mga daliri sa kanang kamay, at saka pinisil ito ng madiin na madiin.
About the artist
Renz Baluyot graduated from the University of the Philippines in Diliman with a Bachelor’s degree in Fine Arts, major in Painting. Through visual arts, he explores socio-political narratives that center on urban decay; studies on how much of the disintegration (physical or otherwise) in urban cities are actual effects of imposed oppressive political and economic power. In portraying these issues, Baluyot examines the people’s reception to these subtle but punitive atrocities.
Renz has completed artist residencies in Japan and in the United States. He was one of the participating artists at the first Manila Biennale (2018) and has exhibited two one-person exhibitions at the UP Vargas Museum. Baluyot’s works have been exhibited in international stages in the United Kingdom, Singapore, Japan, Taiwan, and Malaysia.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Gigo Alampay is the founder and executive director of the Center for Art, New Ventures and Sustainable Development (CANVAS). Under Gigo’s leadership, CANVAS established relations with hundreds of Filipino artists and writers to create, publish and donate children’s books. To date, CANVAS has donated more than 400,000 copies of its books to children in poor and disadvantaged communities throughout the Philippines.
For his work in CANVAS, Gigo was awarded a writing fellowship, one of the most prestigious in the world, by the Rockefeller Foundation at its Bellagio Center in Italy. Gigo has also been honored with outstanding alumni awards from the University of the Philippines (2016), and the Graduate School of Global Policy and Strategy of the University of California San Diego (2008).
A lawyer by profession, Gigo Alampay has over 20 years of experience in information and communications technology law, and in competition law and policy. He has worked with various donor and multilateral agencies (including ADB, USAID, CIDA, the World Bank, the Ford Foundation, the International Telecommunications Union, and UNESCAP, among others) to assist the Philippine government in crafting rules on cutting edge information and communications technologies, and to enhance the competition environment in the Philippines.