FRESH BLOOD, OUR BLOOD

The wounds are still fresh---fresh as they have been four years ago. 

They leave no scars. Rather, a crimson tide flows from their mouths and seeps between the words of periodicals, haunting our memories with backhoes and butchered bodies rotting in the blood-soaked soil. It has been four years, and four years have been far too long for wounds to heal, yet they remain cut open, continuously rubbed with the salinity of a slow justice system and a culture of impunity.

Four years and counting. Four years of waiting for justice.

In a recent press briefing via The Philippine Star, Communications Secretary Sonny Coloma declared the Philippines a safe place for journalists, given that the Ampatuan Massacre is excluded from the index of media-related crimes. Moreover, he claimed that the Philippines as one of the countries enjoying the most press freedom while ironically promising justice to the families of the slain Maguindanao 58. 

To those in position, it is easy to forget the corpses of fellow media men and women. After all, what are 32 journalists compared to thousands of lives lost in Yolanda and billions of pesos taken away by a self-incriminating Napoles? What are dead journalists compared to an equally slow-paced relief operations and the stalling of the distribution of public funds to basic social services? It is easy to forget as year after year passes and issues pile over unsolved cases and threaten to unravel the government’s inanity. 

But to those in the field, to those who mourn for the deaths of these watchdogs under the hands of a godly political clan, it is not easy to forget. 

It is not easy to forget grief and loss, grief over wasted eyes and ears that provide the public with self-governance. It is not easy to forget injustice, the incessant impunity of a system that has not convicted a single soul for forced disappearances and journalist killings. It is not easy to forget the stench of fear, the scent of peeled flesh mingled with dried blood, the threat above your head with the words you say and put on print, the image of backhoes and butchered bodies, and the sock in your mouth as they beat you and torture you for exposing the truth.

There is a killing much worse than the Ampatuan Massacre, and it is the killing of speech and the genocide of what it means to be truly free. 

And as nameless bodies pile on top of the other, the government is doing nothing to protect our press as it has been after all this time. Under Aquino’s ‘safe’ administration, 19 media practitioners have been killed and have not been handed justice. The wounds will never heal till they are sewn, and our impunity king has decided to side upon the royals who remain in their seat of power and feed on the carcasses of the misled, the dead and those who have yet to be checked off their lists. Killing after killing will continue as no one is behind bars to stop it and defend the rights of the people behind the newspapers and cameras, the faceless beings being ruthlessly sent into an arena of bloodshed as they gladiate for the freedom of information in a seemingly fascist society. 

Four years and the press still demands justice. Four years and we still light our candles and march to Mendiola. 

Four years and despite the government’s neglect and the fear instilled in us, we never forget.