April 12, 2009
“Aling pag-ibig pa ang hihigit kaya... gaya ng pag-ibig sa tinubuang
- Andres Bonifacio
Maalab na pagbati!
Dalawang taon na ang nakalilipas nang dukutin ng mga ahente ng gobyerno
sina Luisa at Nilo. At ngayon ay ang paggunita natin sa mga dakilang
kasama na naging biktima ng atake ng nanghihinang estado.
Sina Luisa at Nilo ay ilan lamang sa mahigit sa dalawang daang biktima ng
sapilitang pagkawala, at sa libo pang bilang ng mga biktima ng paglabag sa
karapatang pantao, sa ilalim ng walang kasing duwag na atake ng gobyerno
sa kanyang mamayan, ang program ng Oplan Bantay Laya, na syang patakaran
para gipitin ang mga mamayang naggigiit ng karapatan sa disenteng buhay at
kumikilala sa karapatan ng kanyang mamayan ang syang nakakatanggap ng
hagupit na ito, at kasabwat ang mga berdugong militar at pulis.
Ngunit ang ating paggunita ay hindi lamang upang balikan at sariwain ang
sugat na iniwan ng trahedya. Hindi natin hahayaang ang trahedyang ito ang
maging balakid sa ating patuloy na paghahanap ng katarungan. Sa lumipas na
panahon ng paghihntay at paglaban, unti-unti natin silang nakikilala. Mula
sa kung sino sila bilang mga magulang, kapatid, kaibigan o kasama.
Nabubuhay ang kanilang mga alaala sa mga taong minsan nilang nakasalamuha.
Mga alaalang pumalit sa ating lungkot at luha ng paghanga at pagdakila sa
kanila, sa mga taong nag-alay ng kanilang buhay para sa paglilingkod sa
bayan. Nagpapatuloy ang kanilang diwa sa bawat pamilyang nagkakaroon ng
lakas ng loob para ipagpatuloy ang paghahanap ng hustisya. Muli’t muli
nating madarama ang kanilang pagmamahal na hindi lamang natali sa loob ng
bahay, bagkus tayo ay sumasanib sa malawak na sambayanan na naghahangad ng
tunay na kalayaan.
Sa bahaging ito, mahigpit na pakikiisa ang ipinaaabot ng Desaparecidos
(Pamilya ng Desaparecidos para sa Katarungan) sa mga kaanak at kaibigan
nina Luisa at Nilo. Katarungan ang ating sigaw. Tayo ay nagbuklod upang
maging lakas at inspirasyon ng bawat isa at tayo ang magpapatuloy ng
kanilang laban para sa panlipunang pagbabago.
Kamtin ang hustisya!
Patalsikin si Gloria!
Ilitaw ang mga Desaparecidos!
Gabriela to AFP: Where is Luisa?
rally at the GHQ of the AFP and ISAFP
April 17, 2007 Updated April
Maria Luisa Posa-Dominado:
Abducted and missing for almost a year,
and it is
her 31st wedding anniversary today
March 28, 2008
Luisa Posa-Dominado and Nilo Arado:
missing one year after abduction
April 12, 2008
Relatives and friends
celebrate the birthday of Luisa,
Desaparecido for more than a
August 10, 2008
About Luing by daughter MayWan
Read at the monthly gathering of HUSTISYA on
women victims of human rights violations, Bantayog ng mga Bayani, Quezon
City, March 21, 2009
I love talking and hearing
stories about Nanay. She has such an exciting life full of adventures that
seem to come straight out of a fiction novel. The time she escaped through
the roof of their stockade cell, repeating the same feat a few years later
with a different set of cellmates. The time she gave birth while a platoon
of soldiers were looking for her and even burned the paltera's hair. The
time she escaped, was caught, gave a false name and had to deny her own
grandmother. But when I think of her, I usually remember boring stuff,
times we spent talking and eating, watching movies, doing something
together, memories that would mean nothing to anyone besides me. Before
listening to what my sister has written, please allow me to share some of
these memories, so that you may have an idea how she is as a Nanay and how
much we miss her.
Nanay is a teacher. Besides her Education degree, she has sufficient
training with my cousins who visited her makeshift day care center in
jail. When one of my cousins failed a subject in high school, she marched
to the teacher and scolded her, saying that the red number was not a bad
mark upon the student but speaks instead of the teacher's inadequacy. When
I myself get into trouble in school or get a failing grade, I had to hold
her back and give her a stern lecture about how she should trust me to
handle my own problems. Although of course, the first word I scream when
in pain is her name.
My mother is not a skilled cook. All I remember of her culinary repertoire
is burnt rice and one perfect lunch a long long time ago when she fried
the chicken very well. But maybe I learned from her all the practical
knowledge I really do need. She did taught me about the solar system,
first aid, bank transactions, grocery shopping and marketing tips, water
conservation, how to clean the sewers without dirtying your hands, how to
collect candle wax in a ball and use it to polish the floor of the jail
cell, how to mend a broken friendship with pinipig ice cream, how to
crochet, how to wrap your hair with a towel so it won't fall off your
head, how to be stubborn and righteous, how to know your self-worth and
not seek the constant approval of others...the list is endless.
In high school, my classmates refused to represent our section at the
Lakan at Lakambini ng Hayskul contest. When asked, I said that I would be
willing to "sacrifice my dignity" if my parents would allow me. Of course,
I was confident that I already know their decision. And indeed, Nanay did
not only refuse to give her permission, she also had the audacity to
suggest to our class president the criteria of the ideal but non-existent
contest she would have me join instead, a list that did not include beauty
but only intelligence and hardwork. With that in mind, I sometimes could
not help but think that my own mother thinks I look horrendous. She has
jokingly told me and my sister that it's too bad one of her daughters is
ugly, but she would not tell us which one.
When I was an only child and a brat spoiled by affluent relatives, my
mother scolded me each and every day, or so I feel, due to my snobbish
behavior and extravagant habits. She told me how people worked hard for
each grain of rice I put in my mouth or negligently scatter on the floor
or the table. Being unused to life in jail and to daily chores and to not
doing everything one wants, I got mad at her for being mad at me. She then
explained to me that people only scold those that they love and care for
because they want their loved ones to be better persons and have better
lives etc. etc. Now, years later, remembering this, I am entirely secure
in the knowledge that I am the person that Nanay loves most in the whole
In my entire life, I only know of 3 occasions when Nanay was reduced to
tears. The first one was when a dangerous fire was raging a few houses
away from ours and my sister who was a toddler at that time was left at
our house in the care of her yaya. Nanay was crying with abandon in the
jeepney and she ran the couple of blocks home. Then there was the time
when I took my sister for a walk around our grandparents' subdivision and
Nanay had no idea where we were for several hours. She gave us an earful
in Lola's bathroom and we were shocked when she suddenly sat on the toilet
seat and burst into tears. The other time was when she lost our last baby
sister or brother when Tamara was 3 years old. I cannot imagine how she
cried when she miscarried the other 4 times before that.
Nanay was a mother not only to me and Tamara but also to my cousins and to
all the people she has sheltered. Our home, our lives are filled with
people who have felt abandoned and neglected, people suffering from
nervous breakdown, youths who have run away from home, women who have been
raped or beaten or probably both, pregnant women approaching single
motherhood and even just imperfect people who seem to irritate everybody
else. I admit that I sometimes question why it has to be my Nanay who
needs to help everyone with their problems all of the time. But one time,
she was telling me about a girl who has run away from home and was staying
at our house, had a fight with her boyfriend outside the gate in full view
and within hearing distance of all the neighbors, threatened to cut her
hair and scared my aunt who thought she was trying to kill herself with
the scissors. Nanay said that she only pitied the girl and wanted to hug
her because all the girl really needed was a mother. When she told me
this, I thought how lucky the world is to have this woman who wants to
help those who need it most. And lately I've been thinking how lucky I am
to have the best Nanay in the whole world simply because she's mine.
It's been 2 years since Nanay was abducted and several times I have been
sorely tempted to write down all these wonderful and not so wonderful
memories with her, to list down all the movies we've seen together, to
fill in pages of everything she has ever said to me, to us, every little
thing, lest I forget any of it. But writing it all down gives it such
permanence and carries a sense of finality. It seems to manifest my fear
that no more memories could be made, that we would never see her again,
that I have given up hope...
However, I am hoping that in sharing this with you might make you see your
own mother clearly, all the small and seemingly insignificant things she
does for you that you might not appreciate much now but would attain a
degree of significance only when she is no longer there.