A Dark September

Yesterday, September 9, 2012, was probably one of the darkest days in my hometown, Zamboanga City. There were gunshots, a series of bombings, rocket propelled grenades (RPGs), hostage takings, human shields, mass evacuations from affected barangays. All seem like a nightmare, and the scary part is, it is still ongoing as of this writing.

I woke up at around 7:30 a.m. Running late for work, I instinctively searched for my cellphone that's been covered by the multitude of pillows in my bed. I saw a message from Mommie:

"Zambo City is under siege from armed elements said to be elements of  Misuari's MNLF. City Mayor declared no work and classes." Received 09/09/13 7:04 am



If this message won't jolt your system from oblivion, I don't know what will. Plus my sister, Jankie, has been calling me but can't get through. My heart pounded with every drop call, so I called her up and confirmed that the text message I read was not a figment of my imagination.

I hurriedly dressed up (though was still 15 minutes late, damn you alarm clock!), hailed a taxi and went to work as usual. I switched on the computer and checked my mails, as usual. I "warmed up" in my computer chair before listing my things to do, as usual. What's not usual is that I am worried sick about my family and friends back home. Worried that the armed men might make a detour and march towards our barangay Guiwan, pull out people from their homes and serve as human shields from military forces, just as what they did to Talon-talon and Sta. Barbara, and last night, also Mampang accordingly. Some already fell victim to this horrific event- a policeman, a navy and some civilians got killed. More than 200 held hostages, with nylon ropes wrapped around their waists- like goats being escorted to the next grazing field. Only this time, the goats were hungry, frightened people in their pajamas, and the shepherds, well, don't even get me started. Those good for nothing individuals who, really, did not know any better.

News feeds from facebook friends were also flooded with anger against MNLF (some against the government,) but mostly fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear that some stray bullet may find its way to one's home, and might hit a family member. Fear of not having supplies as groceries, department stores, pharmacies, banks were all closed.  Fear of not knowing when all Zamboanguenos can wake up from this terrible nightmare.

I pray that everything will be alright. I pray that there will be no more blood sheds. I pray that we will all rise up from this, and just get along with one another (such a cliche, I know.)

I am thankful that my family is safe and continue to pray that they will be, and thank God that Daddie is finally home.

I asked how my 3-year old twin nephews Keyaan and Maleeq were doing and was comforted by my sister Chiching's words: "Deadma. Talya sila ta mira tv." (loosely translated as, "They are oblivious, just watching television."

Zamboanga City is still my home. Safe or not, I would not trade it for anywhere else when I finally decide to settle down. And this crisis, albeit the most grave, will pass. We, Zamboanguenos, are known for our resiliency...and with every typhoon, or recurring blackouts or terrorist attacks, we rise......we stand amidst every trial.

For now, let us all continue to pray...and trust, that everything will be okay.