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She was supposed to graduate 23 more days later, from today. She has had her gown for a class prom prepared, her class ring all tucked neat for her very special day and the bright beaming smiles of her proud parents, looking forward…
But all this and her future was laid to nothing by the latest attack of a crime that stunned the city yesterday. It only took one gunshot into the dangerous night, less than 5 minutes she died. Autopsy revealed that the projectile tore “her lungs, liver, heart and stomach.” (I learned this very sad news from her teacher, who I met last night, and wished for anonymity in this post.)
This is tragic. And the story is the same: death and the students (and other citizens over their cellphones). The other day, a security guard ended up in jail for a senseless, messy crime: robbing and killing his victim over a few hundred bucks. He attempted to escape, fell into a creek, bloody creep just won’t stop! But thank God, for a few good men in our police department. They were able to subdue the perpetrator. I recall: that of another high-school student, a girl, who was robbed last year over a cellphone on her way home riding alone in a jeepney, late one night. (She later died in the hospital.) And few years ago, I also lost a schoolmate and a good friend on a similar tragic fate. What a pathetic, messy country this is! Let me switch to a juxtaposed topic. The face of crime: People are dying because of a political domino-effect. Our government leaders are busy fattening up their pockets with kickbacks! Instead of putting up “good lamps” along these dangerous dark streets, these very people we vote would engage in unscrupulous deals — at the expense of our helpless people. Instead of seriously investing crime-fighting machineries, the government is more interested squabbling over petty fights with their detractors and political opponents in their short-lived political careers. Instead of our country’s welfare, it’s personal gain and big-time laundering. And so the chaos ensues.
President Gloria Arroyo is blabbering about her country’s economic gains. (I have a confession, I boycotted the elections during her presidential campaign.) However, a latest research (government data) shows that more than 27 million of Filipinos are living in poverty (previously in CebuAsia, I wrote an article reflecting on the quagmires of our fellow, less-fortunate kababayans.)
A snippet end of my article I wrote last February 22 in, “Poor and Alienated in the City (A CebuAsia Photo Essay)“ goes: The real Filipino is left somewhere in the outskirts of decrepit and lack… often he (or she) is left behind in the darkness, ignored from the glaring bright lights of breakneck technological advances, among the nagging shadows of difficulties. In (dead) silence.
What drives these people to go deadly, really? What has become of our city!? What lures the common good man to go into “his dark side” and rob (and eventually kill) hapless random victims?
But the core of these questions is: How aggressive is the City Government when it comes to curbing street crimes? Last night, after dinner, I saw some policemen and other members from the SWAT keeping a vigilant eye in the vicinity where I usually thread upon — just a few blocks where the crime was committed. BUT that is not enough! What superpowers do I have to combat crime? Will I enroll in judo? Should I buy an OC spray (“Oleoresin Capsicum” a.ka. pepper spray)? or a Stunning Ring to ward off these evil elements? (On a second thought, no. It’s not even a perfect self-defense with all that glam onyx stone glittering under the holdupper’s eye!) I don’t feel safe anymore. I am writing here with so much disappointment, fear, trembling and overwhelming regrets over these vicious cycle and spate of unfortunate events.
Sun.Star Cebu reports:
This post is written by Edgar Alan Zeta-Yap.
Argao, my mother’s hometown, is one of the most charming towns in southern Cebu. Known for its baroque-rococo Church of St. Michael the Archangel that boasts of detailed ceiling frescoes and a grand retablo, all within the well-preserved colonial town plaza, we’ve frequented this place for years for quick vacations and to visit relatives, both living and dead. One of the surprising finds in this quaint town is the recent rediscovery of an 18th-century chapel for unbaptized dead children, across the Church. Said to be as old as, or maybe even older than, the Church (built in 1734), the chapel was revealed when they tore down a concrete wall along the perimeter of a hospital. Thought to have been destroyed, the limestone structure was forgotten by the old townsfolk and, since it was barricaded by a high wall, the neglected sanctum was soon enveloped with thick roots and foliage. (Click the photos to view its large pop-in size.)
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