A Mother's Anguish

Someday, children will play again. (El Nido, Palawan; December 2013)

Kian died in a police operation in the name of the "war on drugs". Although there are different versions of the story about what truly happened, closed circuit TV records show that he was dragged to his death and not fighting it out with the police as the latter initially claimed. He was tagged as a drug courier based on social media posts, the police would later admit. No wonder, Kian's has become a celebrated case.

My heart bleeds for Kian and his family.  No one deserves to die so brutally.  No child, especially, should die in that way. But that was how Kian died.  As I read accounts of his death and opinions shared in the social media, I can't help but feel a tightness in my throat and belly.  My eyes well up.  I know I can never ever feel the pain of Kian's parents, but in my heart of hearts, I too am in anguish.  

Each time I look at his photo in the identification card that is now circulating in social media, I feel a certain pain not only for his parents but for the rest of us, parents.  I look at Kian and see my also 17-year-old son. I imagine the anguish of this boy-just-turning-into-a-man and feel what could have been my son's anguish as well.  When I look at Kian, I see my son and his friends - young, vulnerable, potential victims of such brutality from the very people who are supposed to protect them and make them feel safe. 

Amidst all these, I ask: 

Are we, human beings, really inherently good? 

What will it take for people to realise the absurdity of these killing sprees? 

How does one grieve the death of a loved one who is now counted as a mere collateral damage in this "war"? 

Whatever happened to people's sense of compassion and empathy?  

What will it take for the president's supporters, who condone these killings, to see the value of all human beings - not just those they care about? Do they need to be hit closer to home-base to feel what the victims and their families are experiencing?

Is there an end to all these?

My heart bleeds. My spirit quivers.