Too many unanswered questions

The Bureau of Corrections’ (BuCor) already unsavory reputation as a corrupt institution is sinking to new lows with the frenzied suspicion over the circumstances surrounding the alleged death of nine high-profile inmates, among them drug lord Jaybee Sebastian.

Sebastian’s death certificate indicated that he died July 18 of a heart attack, with COVID-19 listed under “other significant conditions contributing to death.” However, this could not be independently confirmed, as the body was cremated immediately. No autopsy was performed, and the staff at the crematorium were not allowed to open the body bags before cremation.

The other inmates said to have died were drug convicts Francis Go, Jimmy Yang, Benjamin Marcelo, Zhang Zhu Li, Jimmy Kinsing Hung, Eugene Chua, Ryan Ong, and Amin Imam Buratong. Did Sebastian and these other criminals really succumb to COVID-19? Or, as many now speculate, was the pandemic used as a cover for their escape, in cahoots with corrupt BuCor officials?

That’s not an implausible scenario. Similar capers have been documented in other countries, the pandemic providing a way out for prisoners with enough money and clout to make themselves disappear. BuCor chief Gerald Bantag did not help dash conjecture and speculation when he conspicuously failed to confirm the deaths immediately, citing the Data Privacy Act as supposedly barring him from disclosing any details about the identities of the cremated prisoners.

That excuse was resoundingly debunked by Privacy Commissioner Raymund Enriquez Liboro, who said the data law “is not a cloak for denying the public’s right to know.”

And the public is certainly eager to know, because there are simply “too many unanswered questions,” as Senate President Tito Sotto put it. Senate Resolution No. 468, filed by Sotto last Monday calling for an investigation into the matter, highlighted the fact that the remains of the deceased were not subjected to autopsies and the body bags were not opened for inspection before these were cremated at the Panteon de Dasmariñas. The resolution cited a ranking police official’s doubts over the rushed procedures: “They [BuCor] could have just replaced the body. How would we know? There were no more fingerprints.”

Sebastian’s death is of particular interest because he was a principal in the case against arch administration critic Sen. Leila de Lima, who remains detained on charges of conspiring with Sebastian to trade drugs inside the NBP allegedly to raise funds for her 2016 senatorial bid. Now Sebastian is permanently silenced, any interrogation or scrutiny of his testimony against De Lima rendered out of reach for good.

For the public’s peace of mind, the least the BuCor could do is simply produce a photo of Sebastian’s body so that doubts will be laid to rest, said Senate President Pro Tempore Ralph G. Recto. “Hindi ba’t SOP na pagdating ng preso sa Bilibid ay kinukuhanan kaagad siya ng litrato para sa kanyang record? There is always a photographic record of the deceased, more so in this age when everyone has a cellphone and every cellphone has a camera. Show them to the Justice Secretary — and the death certificates and medical records of the deceased high-profile drug lords—and all the conspiracy theories in this land, where weaving them is a national hobby, will be buried.”

Instead of providing proof, however, Bantag has refused to talk in detail about the inmates’ deaths, resorting to expletive-laden remarks that flatly denied any irregularity in the BuCor’s proceedings while trying to swat down the public furor.

To this, Senate Minority Leader Franklin Drilon demanded: “Ano bang tinatago ng BuCor?” To allow the agency to withhold records about its operations is akin to giving it a license as to who to declare dead or alive in one of the world’s most crowded correctional facilities, warned Drilon. “It is dangerous and it is prone to different kinds of abuses. I am afraid it can be used to make prisoners disappear, cover up extrajudicial killings, and even to fake death. Any doubts or danger of the inmates’ deaths being simulated can be addressed through full transparency.”

The Integrated Bar of the Philippines has also made the same call for thorough transparency, stressing that “a porous, inefficient, corrupt, and scandal-ridden prison system wipes out any remaining trust that citizens may have in our criminal justice system.”

Justice Secretary Menardo Gueverra has ordered the National Bureau of Investigation to look into the suspicious deaths that, according to Sen. Richard Gordon, bear “all the hallmarks of a cover-up.” The BuCor’s word, sparse as it is, is simply not enough.

“Ano, sasabihin na lang nila, ‘Trust us?’ The record of the penitentiary is abysmally awful,” said Gordon. This episode may yet turn out to be the latest proof of that.