Last But Not The Least

The recent happenings on the grandstand and an article that was written about several hostage situations that happened since 2001 led me to be curious about the book that was written by one of the hostages herself, Gracia Burnham. Now, that I have given her name, I am sure a lot of you might say, "Of course, I remember!"

I guess I am in luck that a good friend of mine has the book and is willing to lend it to me.

The hostage-taking happened in May 2001 at the Dos Palmas Resort in Puerto Princesa City, Palawan. It was an ordeal for the writer and her husband that lasted for months.

I have just barely started with the book. It began with the rosters of both the identities of the hostage-takers and the hostages.

But what touched me most, so far, is what she wrote on the introduction:

"To these people I say, you were not left out because you aren't important. I hope you know what a special place you hold in my heart."

I think we all should keep this in mind, hostage or not.

The Dust Has Not Settled Yet For The OFWs

They fear.

They always have.

Leaving the country takes a lot of courage. Leaving alone in another country takes an even more courage. So, it's a double courage to do both.

We lay our lives on the line because of the risks of working in another country. With no intended pun or whatsoever, the stakes are more for domestic helpers. They are the ones who live in the four corners of their employers' home, not having too much people around. They are the most prone to abuse, and as the news have shown, a lot of them have been abused already. In Hong Kong, most of our OFWs are domestic helpers.

Right now, I feel for them. I fear for them.

This anger of Cpt. Mendoza resonates at the land of the Chinese. It travelled not only within the walls of the Ombudsman's office. It made its way to the hands of those people who couldn't care less for his demands. If before he doesn't exist, now he does. But not as a policeman who thinks he was mistreated by our government, but a murderer of their own kind. Now, we all know that we cannot blame them for what they feel. Because, in the end, you will ask yourself, 'Wouldn't you feel the same?'

Our OFWs left the country because this country could offer them no more. They left because they feel that our country do not care for them anymore. But in spite of this, they feel our country's love for them once they start to miss home. Home becomes something more than those cardboard walls and earthen floors. Home becomes our country they long to go back to.

But after the dust has finally settled at the grandstand, their vision even became clouded when they thought it would be clear. They fear of being tormented for a sin they did not commit. They live each day trying to do everything right because one simple mistake will mean another stupidity tainted with the captain's blood. Another wrong move could mean that his blood is of the same hue as the captain. They live in shame of being branded with the same mind as the captain's.

Now, can you blame them if at least once in a day, they think of turning their backs to this country?

I Am My Brother's Keeper

The world saw what happened.

A fifteen-year-old Filipino wrote an apology.

In the middle of the situation, the negotiator said everything was calm; everything is under control. If we recall, Cpt. Mendoza was seen at the door of the bus looking calm and composed.

But the situation shifted.

The bus driver said that everything turned out to be different when the police tried to arrest his brother, and the media was showing it live on tv. Everything as in everything that happened when the brother was being arrested.

I was feeling cold as I watch it live. I felt tense about the situation. It was like watching an action-packed film, but a whole lot more (a whole effin' lot more) because this is not a movie. It is really happening and Filipinos and the whole world are watching.

If you were Gregorio's brother, the hostage-taker, how would you feel?

The driver tells his story here.