12/03/2025
To those mocking us for standing by Duterte, unfriending people who ridicule us, and questioning our morals for supporting his war on drugs—let me make this clear:
For you, this might be just politics. For me, it’s PERSONAL.
I was 10 years old when drug addicts barged into our home.
They hammered my head and cut my throat.
My brother was 12 when they smashed his skull repeatedly.
My sister was 8 when they did the same to her.
My mother—weak, helpless—was stabbed and beaten to death.
My father, suffered the same fate.
And my baby sister… SHE WAS 8 MONTHS OLD CRIED FOR MILK AND THEY BUTCHERED HER!!!
WHERE IS YHE JUSTICE FOR HER?
FOR MY FAMILY?
For the victims of these addicts-turned-murderers?
You cry for the families of drug addicts killed in the war on drugs. But where were you when families like mine were slaughtered by them?
Surviving isn’t healing. The trauma never ends.
I still remember it as if it were yesterday.
I still hear my brother begging for his life.
I still hear my mother screaming for help.
I still hear my baby sister’s last cries before they silenced her forever.
I still feel the warmth of the blood running down my neck.
I still see the shadows, feel the fear, lose sleep over the nightmares, flip with rage when I find doors unlocked, and palpitate when I see shadows moving by the windows.
Even my father, who survived, never truly made it out alive. He is disabled now, unable to speak. The attack stole not just his body but his voice.
STARE AT THESE PICTURES OF US!
WE DIDN’T DESERVE THIS.
But those addicts-turned-murderers didn’t care. They didn’t care whose daughters or sons we were. They didn’t care if someone would grieve for us. They didn’t care that they were destroying entire lives.
When Duterte won, that was the first time I felt safe.
Criminals feared the government. The streets were safer.
For once, I didn’t have to live in constant terror.
So yes, I take this personally.
And to those who call us enablers—you didn’t lose your family to addicts turned murderers.
You don’t wake up every day reliving the horror.
You don’t have to carry this rage, this grief, this pain for a lifetime.
And if you ask me if I would kill? Yes, I would.
I would kill if it meant my children would grow up in a world where they are safe.
The only rea*on I continue to live right now is because of my kids.
I couldn’t save my baby sister that day, but I will make sure I can protect my children.
This is the first time I have ever felt this sad, this angry, over someone I’ve never even met in person—but who made a real impact, who brought real change.
To my sister Rogelyn, imagine the pain your fragile body had to endure. I regret not hugging you one last time when we were in the hospital. I always wish I could turn back time and force myself to hold you, to comfort you. My wounds were painful, but I can only imagine how much worse it was for you.
To my mom, my last memory of you was seeing you covered in sheets and blood. I miss you every day.
YES, FEEL FREE TO UNFRIEND ME
I WOULD GO TO THE STREETS AND FIGHT FOR TATAY HOPING HE CAN STILL SAVE THE PHILIPPINES
Because if you can’t understand why this is personal to me, we were never really friends to begin with.
THE VICTIMS NEVER HEAL. We just learn to survive.
Mga YAWAH mo
Courtesy: Arquelle Asa/facebook
