Here i am again tantalizing your thoughts. . . :-)
Duuuhhh?
Hard to maintain a blog site, though. :(
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Monday, June 30, 2008
The Moment I Wake Up!
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| Don't Bomb Civilian Communities -- CSO |
I am a resident of Jolo, Sulu. All my life, I had never been interested in politics. Being a Muslim, I am slightly fatalistic by nature. “What the hell,” I say, “as long as I can satisfy my hungry stomach three times a day and have a simple normal life, then to hell with all the sufferings around the world!”
But my recent involvement in a Civil Society Organization makes me furious about what the military is doing to my native place. The CSO assigned me to visit some areas of conflict in Sulu like (a) Ipil, Maimbung; (b) Marang, Indanan; and (c) Sitio Tandu Pukut, Indanan.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Sentiments of the Civilians
Mrs. Hanina Abdusali, a six-month evacuee to the area, is still shocked and traumatized with the incident that gives her sleepless night. She said that she would immediately run for cover whenever she heard a strange sound. Ms. Abdusali was a native place of Batu, Itum, Barangay Alu, Parang, Sulu. She went to Tandu Pukut, Siyunugan because she believed in the relative safety of the place.
“We fled from danger to a more dangerous place,” she said in Tausug.
“We fled from danger to a more dangerous place,” she said in Tausug.
The Story of Sitio Tandu Pukut
June 15, 2008, three in the morning, the civilians of Sitio Tandu Pukut and Sitio Subah Timahu, Barangay Siyunugan, Indanan, Sulu were peacefully sleeping in their homes when intermittent loud sounds disturbed and woke them up. Realizing that the sources of the cacophony were not from mere ordinary sources but howitzer-cannon blast, the people, women and children, scurried here and there for cover. One of the explosives destroyed the electricity wiring of the SULECO that blacked-out the area which resulted to further confusion.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
The Graduate (Short Story)
The Graduate
Elsewhere in the world, December was a cold month. But here in Sulu, as the usual case in most of the tropical regions, the weather was just erratic—now sunny, next rainy—and it was hot today, scorching even.
The acacia and mango trees dotting the MSU campus were no match to the angry sun; their shades were no protection against the roasting tropical weather, only against the skin cancer that direct sunlight could give. Students and professors alike—unless one had fever—had sweats running all over their faces. The damp blotches on their clothes betrayed the sweats all over their bodies—especially in the armpits, more so, of those who forgot to use deodorant or “tawas.”
Elsewhere in the world, December was a cold month. But here in Sulu, as the usual case in most of the tropical regions, the weather was just erratic—now sunny, next rainy—and it was hot today, scorching even.
The acacia and mango trees dotting the MSU campus were no match to the angry sun; their shades were no protection against the roasting tropical weather, only against the skin cancer that direct sunlight could give. Students and professors alike—unless one had fever—had sweats running all over their faces. The damp blotches on their clothes betrayed the sweats all over their bodies—especially in the armpits, more so, of those who forgot to use deodorant or “tawas.”
The Letters (Short Story)
The Letters
It was a cold dark night. The moon was hiding behind the clouds as if afraid to see what was about to happen on the ground below.
Behind the manicured foliage, there was a man clad in black outfits that camouflaged the color of the night.
He was observing an elegant house, waiting for the light to be turned off in its living room. Passing through the panes of the closed window, the other light from one of the bedrooms was also ablaze. The rumor had it that it was never put out every night.
It was a cold dark night. The moon was hiding behind the clouds as if afraid to see what was about to happen on the ground below.
Behind the manicured foliage, there was a man clad in black outfits that camouflaged the color of the night.
He was observing an elegant house, waiting for the light to be turned off in its living room. Passing through the panes of the closed window, the other light from one of the bedrooms was also ablaze. The rumor had it that it was never put out every night.
Bulatlat Honors my First Post
AFP Attacks Civilian Community in Sulu
BY NTA
DEMOCRATIC SPACE
Posted by Bulatlat
Vol. VIII, No. 20, June 22-28, 2008
I am NTA, a resident of Jolo, Sulu. All my life, I had never been
interested in politics. Being a Muslim, I am slightly fatalistic by
nature. “What the hell,” I say, “as long as I can satisfy my hungry
stomach three times a day and have a simple normal life, then to hell with all
the sufferings around the world!”
 |
| A Call to Stop Bombing Civilian Communities in 2008. |
BY NTA
DEMOCRATIC SPACE
Posted by Bulatlat
Vol. VIII, No. 20, June 22-28, 2008
I am NTA, a resident of Jolo, Sulu. All my life, I had never been
interested in politics. Being a Muslim, I am slightly fatalistic by
nature. “What the hell,” I say, “as long as I can satisfy my hungry
stomach three times a day and have a simple normal life, then to hell with all
the sufferings around the world!”
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