Mothers waiting
Various dictionaries agree in defining “mother” as a woman who has given birth to and/or raised a child. But what if half of that equation is removed, abruptly, perhaps even violently?
On this day all over the world, mothers are being feted by their grateful families. Yet there are those hard put to find happiness on their designated “day,” or indeed since they lost their children.
It will be the sixth Mother’s Day for Edita Burgos since her son Jonas was forcibly taken from a Quezon City mall on April 28, 2007. Since the beginning Edita has maintained that her son was abducted by military intelligence personnel of the Philippine Army’s 7th Infantry Division and 56th Infantry Battalion. She pursued her claim through the justice system despite the military’s consistent denials, and last March the Court of Appeals officially recognized Jonas’ “enforced disappearance” and held the leaders of the
cited Army units accountable for it. Last month Edita asked the Supreme Court to order the appellate court to further investigate the case. The high court granted her and members of her immediate family a temporary protection order and directed the Armed Forces chief of staff, Gen. Emmanuel Bautista, to account for the whereabouts of the military personnel she had accused of involvement in her son’s abduction.
Malacañang has promised justice, with President Aquino calling for a “focused, dedicated and exhaustive investigation” and spokesperson Edwin Lacierda saying that the full force of the law would be brought to bear on the perpetrators “if there’s evidence that points to culpability.” The military has promised cooperation, and the police a thorough investigation. Yet on Mother’s Day
Edita is still without her son. Last year she said movingly: “My standards have gone down through the years. Whereas before, I’d say, ‘Give him back to me alive and well, and let justice be served,’ now I just want to find out what really happened. Because if I find out the truth, I’ll also find him.”
Other mothers also grapple with silence and uncertainty regarding their children. Concepcion Empeño and
Erlinda Cadapan continue to await news on the fate of their daughters, Karen Empeño and Sherlyn Cadapan, who were students of the University of the Philippines when they were abducted in Bulacan on June 26, 2006, purportedly by military men under the command of then Maj. Gen. Jovito Palparan. Now retired and a fugitive, Palparan was formally charged with the students’ disappearance and illegal detention shortly before he took flight.
Like Edita Burgos, Concepcion Empeño and Erlinda Cadapan have endured one Mother’s Day after another not knowing if they will ever see their children again or even know what had happened to them. But they have held on to their flagging hopes, particularly after the Department of Justice finally approved the filing of charges against Palparan—“Berdugo (Butcher),” as rights activists refer to him—in 2011. “I can never accept that [Sherlyn] is gone because she was taken alive and so she should be returned to me alive,” Erlinda said.
And what of those for whom a child’s absence has become tragically permanent? In Camiling, Tarlac, Sonia Fojas awaits the ashes of her youngest child, Neriza, a nurse who had just gotten married in the United States and who was to return to the Philippines next month with her new husband so they could say their marriage vows in church with their respective families present. In a truly startling occurrence, Neriza and four of her friends who were heading to a night on the town in California early this month perished in a fire that swiftly and inexplicably engulfed the limousine they were riding in. “How painful, how painful…” Sonia lamented in a television interview. As though foreshadowing the tragedy, Neriza had earlier talked to her parents on Skype, even extending to her mother advance Mother’s Day greetings and showing off the present she had bought for her.
On this day we also think of the mothers who labor overseas, those who lovingly raise other people’s children while their own grow up beyond their embrace. We recall the mothers who have lost their children too soon, through injustice, disease, or unfortunate circumstance. For the mothers who continue to fight for the return of their lost children, we wish unwavering courage and endurance, as well as truth, justice and closure.
