[Philippine's human rights violations] A Thousand Little Deaths Growing Up Under Martial Law in the Philippines #2/152

I was dispatched to a conference room where I saw several men chatting, reading, or sleeping. These men were, I discerned quickly, other political prisoners. Picked up in various towns and barrios of Central Luzon, they had been detained here for varying lengths of time. Some had arrived just a few days ago while others had been here longer. I wondered which one had been here the longest. Three men, talking in soft voices, were sitting on the chairs around a huge table. After the usual perfunctory hellos, the men went back to their conversations. A few of them were sitting on the floor with their backs leaning against the wall. I was introduced to everyone in the room by the guard, though their names hardly registered with me.

“This camp is not providing us with food, so please call your family and let them know they need to bring your meals regularly,” a lanky man informed me as a cigarette dangled from his mouth. At the same time, he extended his hand and introduced himself.

“Thank you, I will,” I replied.

“Gosh, you look so young. How old are you anyway?” another man curiously asked.

I told him. Everyone within hearing distance started shaking his head. I looked around me and realized I was the youngest person in the room. I was also the only female.

I didn’t want to dwell on this. I excused myself, darted out of the room, and asked the soldier by the door if I could use the phone to call home. When I did, Tang answered. He and Ima had just arrived at the house. I told him what I needed.

“Oh, don’t worry, I already thought of that. Besides, I would not want you to eat whatever they offer you there. Don’t eat anything anyone offers you,” he cautioned.

“Cesar is on his way. We called Aling before we left the base and instructed her to cook dinner for you. Your mother also gave Cesar a bag of your clothes, bed linens, and other things you might need.