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Saturday, November 28, 2015

Victims of Fate, History, Circumstance and False Flag

We are indeed lucky not to wallow in defeat 
alhamdulillaah!
as victims of fate, history and circumstance 
add up to it false flag-
but this must not in any way dull our hearts 
to reach out and assert for the rights of our  own brethren 
who have been silent victims 
as they breathe and until they have breathed their last.

When one is saturated with the seemingly bleakness 
of what the past, the present and future hold
- as crimes, mishaps, calamity, hunger,
destitution, oppression, aggression, 
violence, terrorism, thirst, deprivation,
depravation, inflation,
confront you via tri-media 
as well as the multimedia world, 
oh yes! cyberspace and beyond
worst! through personal experience:
"only in the remembrance of Allah can a restless heart truly find rest."

Qadarullaahi wa ma shaa afaa ala

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Human Beings Perversely Gave Pejorative Connotation to the Term Politics

Oh, yes! Human Beings Perversely Gave Pejorative Connotation to the Term Politics

Why would we even say that politics is dirty?!
Isn't that a denial of the fact that it is actually some of us human beings who perversely have given pejorative connotation and denotation to the innocent term "politics"? If only politics can talk, it would lash at you sternly: "But why blame ME, you nincompoops?!"

Amidst the dynamic interplay of dynamics activated by mortals, be like the water so pure that no impurity would stain it; be like a chlorine pellet that purifies putrid water that it becomes safe to drink; be like the pristine lotus flower that thrives amidst polluted surroundings.

It doesn't make sense to join them, neither it is prudent to tolerate the system or just ignore it; one must take a stand and make a difference. What billions may agree to be right does not make it right; what a single person may believe to be right does not make it necessarily wrong and odd.

If those multitude of people who think standing up for what is right and what is just is crazy; then, I'd rather be labeled crazy than be labeled sane and wise but in reality am otherwise.
I care most how shall I be judged by my Lord Creator ALLAH.

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

My VOTE for REAL CHANGE to HAPPEN in the Philippines: What is Yours?

My VOTE for REAL CHANGE to HAPPEN: What is Yours?
Rody Duterte and Leni Robredo: My Dream Team for President and Vice President

Temogen Cocoy Tulawie: My #Governor of #SULU
The Hope of JUSTICE to REIGN in Sulu Province in shaa ALLAH!



Mario Yanga and Mechor Rey Sadain: My Dream Team as Mayor and Vice Mayor of Zamboanga City

Princess Jacel Kiram, Ina Ambolodto and Walden Bello for Senators



VOTE! Cocoy Tulawie OUR Governor of SULU

Justice shall rule when the just is in power to strip the powerful of strength in order to make the weak strong!...




Warning against ANY abuse of NON-Muslims in an Islamic society

There is no compulsion in religion…" (Quran 2:256)
Warning against any abuse of non-Muslims in an Islamic society, the Prophet SAW stated:
"Beware! Whoever is cruel and hard on a non-Muslim minority, curtails their rights, burdens them with more than they can bear, or takes anything from them against their free will; I (Prophet Muhammad) will complain against the person on the Day of Judgment." (Abu Dawud)

http://img.thejakartaglobe.com/2015/10/Aceh-Singkil-crying-worshipers-1024x689.jpg

Age of Renaissance in Sulu c15th c. to 19th c.

The Age of #Sultanate 
of the Tau Sug #Civilization 
during the 15th century 
until the 19th century 
was #Sulu's Age of #Renaissance.
That was THE real #civilization
in this #archipelago 
with #Islam as its cultural foundation 
ma shaa ALLAH heart emoticon

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

The Death of King Durio in Kudzu’s Sweet Embrace



The Death of King Durio in Kudzu’s Sweet Embrace
[Originally conceptualized as, “Durian Smothered in Vines’ Sweet Embrace,” I thought of toning down the title so as not to leave my friends famished out of anticipation. Warning: the author is neither a viticulturist nor is she a horticulturist. Perhaps, just a Muslim satirist with a literary twist of a “halal” romanticist.]

        In the Kingdom of Plantae, there lived a King named Durio who was most hated as well as dearly loved by thirty or they claimed 13 of his durian human kind.
 
        Plantae was known for its beautiful Dorianne flowers, so irresistibly beautiful that batmen were common tourists who braved its exotic coast and jungle.
        However, King Durio valiantly protected these prized flowers from bats of prey. Flowers shuddered in their pristine petals when the king warned them of nocturnal strangers that were wont to eat their pollen in order to pollinate them. For this gallant sense of chivalry, King Durio was truly loved by the sweet flowers but understandably detested by the sassy batmen.
        Far and wide, King Durio’s people were known. Renowned of exemplar cultivars, the desirable people of Plantae multiplied bringing about it certain prickly types: Clonus, Layeris, Marcotis, and Graftus.
        Such populous diversity became the great migraine straining the thorny crown of King Durio.
        Spiky clonus tribes multiplied either naturally or digitally and of course asexually bringing with it a population of odious bacteria and insects.
        The people of bristly Layeris swelled while still attached to their parents as greenhorns; they begin to root due to external factors but later find filial detachment as an independent Layeri.
        Thorny marcotis sprouted from wounded and amputated combat zones where they recuperated cocooned in eezies and teeiests. Their recovery depended largely on their vigorous ancestry and parentage. Green elixir was used to embalm their wounds and so old folktales were retold. Once rooted they eventually separate from their proud parents.
        But the barbed Graftus folks gave King Durio the most stinging, tingling of a headache! Their ilk grew and spread inosculated like how trunks and branches of two trees grow together. Such intimacy smothered the consciousness of King Durio thereby affecting his vision as much as his respiration. Yet, glued and inseparable as they were, Graftus were common victims of being commodified and traded because of their innate commercial appeal.
        Resplendently dressed in his stoical royal robe spun in seven spectrum of colors, King Durio brandished his sword and scepter. Awed, his subjects in subdued obeisance, yield to the vision of spectre that King Durio projected.
        Restlessness ensued, when geysers and gargoyles abound in the palace yet his ogling subjects suffered from thirst; when various incandescence and LED type lights flooded the palace yet his blinded subjects suffered from dwindling fireflies’ lights not that they needed ambient and accent lights- task lighting would have sufficed.
        Dithery yet agitated, King Durio’s subjects were hyperventilating and were enduring photosynthetic stress. It was so extreme that the stressful atmosphere exuded redolence far from ambrosial because it reeked with obnoxious stench! Dagger looks were pointed at the malodorous point of origin- King Durio.
        Eight decades was too much of an Age of Nadir even after a bout of more than four centuries Age of Renaissance. Dark Age in the Kingdom of Plantae reeked with the volatile compounds of esters, ketones, and other strangely sulfuric compounds. Who was or were responsible for these volatile compounds remained a secret like the proverbial elephant in the room.
        At this juncture of glory turned into grey, appear into the scene some endangered animals and an exquisite morning glory. The more the kingdom and King Durio reeked in corrosive redolence, endangered animals were lured into its territory-greedy and hungry ones such as squirrels, mouse deer, hogs, orangutan, elephants and even carnivorous tigers. They watched like vultures, (these death stalkers are protesting much at me), hungrily but patiently waiting for the kill. Others ingeniously managed to blend into the crowd in functional camouflage while others forged alliances with King Durio as his dummy council watched tolerantly.
        The wise elephant named Dumbo, oh yes sure he could fly, pacified the pack of tigers and his own clan: “Let us watch. Patience. Entertain them with a game with them as our ‘game’.”
        Nonetheless, these grisly animals devoured the young swallowing them in whole albeit swathed in thorny armour but they disposed their bones like seeds under the foot of their parents. Others swallowed bones like seeds along with the flesh but transported them distantly then excreted them anyway in an attitudinal macabre dispersal.
        What transpired was so horrid that the people of King Durio who used to be as immobile as rooted plants suddenly came alive responding to the divine touch of congealed drops of sunbeams drenched in moonbeams yet amazingly remaining dry. Yes, his durian human kind responds to touch just like plants who we human beings assumed to be incapable of being moved and touched by the hand.
        From the soil of Plantae, in every crack, nook, crevice and cranny, crept and crawled Kudzu like clingy tendrils of undulating vine. Unstoppable and unnoticed, Kudzu crept and crawled covering the breadth and expanse of Kingdom Plantae; until Kudzu slithered into the palace of King Durio, rendering his sentries useless, ruining his throne and buckling his power lines. Except for the green brilliance of Kudzu, the whole palace was plunged in total darkness.

        Armored in sheer stoicism, King Durio called out ever so smugly: “Who dares enter my dominion unannounced?”
        But Kudzu replied calmly: “King Durio, it is not relevant to question my viticulture.”
        Her voice was like light in brilliance and King Durio was blinded by her sight. Her nonviolent extremities crawled all around King Durio, enveloping him in an embrace of harmless green tendrils from the tip of his royal shoes to his royal limbs and torso, up to his neck as her spindly tingly vinelike fingers slowly and agonizingly covered his entire face and head.
        King Durio’s eyes almost popped out as he stared in recognition at her luminous countenance.
        “It is you Kudzu! I know too well your obsequious crawl,” King Durio managed to squeak in a smothered voice totally devoid of the almond-aphrodisiac pungent fragrance of his species.
        “No, King Durio. I may allow strangers like you to call me the abominable noxious Kudzu as they perceived me to be. But before I neutralize you, let me tell you a secret,” slowly and painfully she hugged his face snugly and whispered, “King Durio, you may be a stinky celebrated and persecuted durian but my name is Morning Glory, I am not and can never be a Kudzu!”
And so my concocted fairytale ends agonizingly without need of King Durio's right index finger for DNA.
(30)
Glossary:
Kudzu- a harmful or lethal clingy vine.

Morning glory flowers -  "attract both hummingbirds and butterflies to your gardens; may die in the winter, but readily re-seed themselves each year; and will rapidly cover your fence the next spring."

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Who Art Thou Rage?

Who Art Thou Rage?
by Warina Sushil A. Jukuy
•31 January 2015•

Life is sacred
Allah puts human dignity
In a higher moral order
At all times
Be it during peace or war.

Be you rich or poor
Citizen or statesman
Subject or king
Tycoon or pauper
Your life is valuable.

Everyone has the right
To mourn and grieve
Their dead and their living too.

Alas! Nihilism knows no God
Thus it desecrates life
Though be it sacred

Life is not pulp fiction
Where everything is pseudo real
Or so I thought

Yet some of us play God
Shamelessly deluded
And snuff out lives at will
Demise reduced to mere wasted
Uniformed are heroes
Civilians are collateral damage

We cry for peace
Only when pissed
We cry for truth
For not what it really is
We cry for justice
But blood can't quench
The thirst.

We accuse each other
Of intolerance
Of barbarism
Of bigotry
Of extremism
Of terrorism.

But are we not
Hypocrites?
Judging the other
As violent extremists
As terrorists

You and I have lost 44
Thank you
We included our 2
Yet with 44 fallen heroes
You wish to annihilate
Our whole race rashly
Lashing out invectives
Stereotyping us all
As lawless elements
Like lowly high value targets

We choose to forget
Move on; but your lamentations
Drive us to recount
Our undocumented dead
Slain by encroachment
By your trivial disdain
Besieged by morbidity
It suddenly dawn upon me

Now I know who are the
Real violent extremists
It's YOU named fury
Anger
Rage!

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Sen Cayetano: How democratically AUTOCRATIC could you utterly get?

OF "SMART" WOUND ANALYZER TO "TWERP" DEMOCRACY GAUGE

Senator Cayetano needs badly this new discovery: "smart bandage" that's actually a wound analyzer.

Why? Well, Sen Cayetano is badly wounded. He is venting his ire on Iqbal, the BBL and the entire Bangsamoro based on his diatribe style of inquiry.

His panic attack is censorious; nothing Democratic in it.
On the contrary, we are doubting HIS own "Democratic preparedness" by way of his maniacal inquiry. He was utterly AUTOCRATIC! Is this the kind of Senator who staunchly advocates "democracy"?

Before he completely lose his IQ and be branded a certified twerp on "democracy preparedness"?

He ought to enrol asap in a "personal disaster preparedness crash course " with anger management and stress debriefing freebies to boot!

Oh, Senator! Buy a dork "democracy analyzer" too, please!

Sunday, February 22, 2015

TERRORISM of Pharaoh, King Herod and Hoarders of Nuke Weapons WMD

Up to today, mankind has not invented yet
an "extremism gauge."
Indeed, extremism cannot be quantified but can only be described in its various manifestations.

Extremism has two sides to it..
It can either be good or bad.
There is nothing bad with extremism
when it comes to ibadah like sadaqah
or piety generally speaking.
One can even be badly fanatical about a Hollywood
actor or a pop singer.


However, what is alarming with extremism is when it becomes violently lethal. Violent extremism is deadly when it kills, attacks or destroys people or a single group-without any just cause.


Extremism goes a long way in history. It comes in many forms: political, religious, economic, social, physical etc


Let us trace extremism as far as Egypt when Pharaoh ordered the summary killing of male babies so that our Prophet Moses AS won't exist. It was extremism. That was terrorism. Likewise, when King Herod ordered the killing of male babies so that our Prophet Jesus AS won't exist. That was terrorism. That was extremism.
Tragically, nowadays people start to draw the line into two non-terrorists and Muslim terrorists. This is alarming.

Terms are created so things will become real even if they don't exist. We must redefine terms and how these operate to sow terror and paranoid attacks in the hearts and minds of people across the globe. There is no such things as Islamists or jihadists. But there is Muslim, Islam, jihad and mujahideen. There is fear of ASG, terrorists and ISIS but why is there no ASGophobia? No terroristophobia? No ISISophobia? Fears about terrorism has turned into Islamophobia.
Why do they stereotype and label terrorists as exclusively Muslims and attribute it to Islam? Of all the billion population of Muslims, you can count by the hand the terrorists who are Muslims.

The irony of it all is that the nations who wage counterterrorism campaign and the war against terror are those who own arsenal of nuclear weapons of mass destruction.
This is utterly dangerous!

Now ask yourself, who are the real terrorists? Who are the real enemies?
The real enemies are distrust, bigotry and intolerance that besieged our minds and hearts due to extreme paranoia and ignorance. -my reply to the question:"How do you gauge extremism?"

 Joan B Kroc Institute of Justice and Peace conference on DEFYING EXTREMISM: Gendered Approaches to Religious Violence



ISIS: Independent SULU Islamic State

ISIS: Independent SULU Islamic State

The ISIS Vaccine of Sulu

non-terrorist, non-extremist sovereign
using Abode of Peace paradigm
Brunei Darussalam model

 

Braveheart in Bright Jersey

Braveheart in Bright Jersey

Photo Credit: Gigi | @Sundilyn Bedro | 17 Feb 2015 | Don Joaquin Enriquez Memorial Sports Complex

 


That countenance
asks not one silent
question
perplexed
his brows knitting
Yet he stands erect
looking straight
at the unseen camera
trained on him
amidst the background
of basin, pail and dipper
immobile ball
green, faded red unpaired
slippers
crushed plastic cup litter
armed with ethnic necklace
bright colored jersey shorts
and boots
he longs for play
and firemen to salvage
his home now lost
we hope not forever
we hope not forever | Warina Sushil A. Jukuy- PAHRA WesMIN | Hijaab-Niqaab Advocacy Network-HAN | Resilience of Uprooted IDPs in Zamboanga City to Thrive in Alien Homes ie Sports Complex Evacuation Center | IDPs Under Siege and Hostaged by POLITICAL NEGLIGENCE for 17 months now |

Photo Credit: Gigi | @Sundilyn Bedro | 17 Feb 2015 | Don Joaquin Enriquez Memorial Sports Complex

ZAMBO IDPs: Under Siege and Hostaged by Political Negligence for 17 months now




Photo Credit: Gigi | @Sundilyn Bedro | 17 Feb 2015 | Don Joaquin Enriquez Memorial Sports Complex
They hold each other's hands
Smiling
holding on to the solid railing
for support
a telltale weakness
yet holding the broom
showing juvenile grit
to sweep the "mess"
"juvenile-adults" made.
And the brackish water looms
down under
mirroring not the kids' smiles. | Warina Sushil A. Jukuy- PAHRA WesMIN | Hijaab-Niqaab Advocacy Network-HAN | Resilience of Uprooted IDPs in Zamboanga City to Thrive in Alien Homes ie Sports Complex Evacuation Center | Under Siege and Hostaged by Political Negligence for 17 months now

Photo Credit: Gigi | @Sundilyn Bedro | 17 Feb 2015 | Don Joaquin Enriquez Memorial Sports Complex

Hearts Come and Go in Different Shapes and Forms

Hearts Come and Go in Different Shapes and Forms
Look at the Man's Pants...HEARTS! Photo Credits: Gigi | Sundilyn Bedro | 17 Feb 2015 | Don Joaquin Enriquez Memorial Sports Complex
 We almost lost our hearts heart emoticon yet found it again
when we were assailed by the indomitable spirit
of their smiles
Zamboanga IDPs Home Now!

Emblazoned on TSHIRT: I AM A HUMAN [BEING] WITH RIGHTS! MY LIFE, MY DIGNITY!

UPHOLD RIGHT TO LIVE
| Warina Sushil A. Jukuy- PAHRA WesMIN | Hijaab-Niqaab Advocacy Network-HAN | Resilience of Uprooted IDPs in Zamboanga City to Thrive in Alien Homes ie Sports Complex Evacuation Center | IDPs Under Siege and Hostaged by POLITICAL NEGLIGENCE for 17 months now |

Photo Credits: Gigi | Sundilyn Bedro | 17 Feb 2015 | Don Joaquin Enriquez Memorial Sports Complex

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

War Is Bloody Real: Justice is Blind and Truth is a Silent Witness


War Is Bloody Real: Justice is Blind and Truth is a Silent Witness



Where in the world would you see combatants being sent by superiors to a mission where only triumph-victory-death is the constant, and when combatants come back lifeless...superiors would cry out:

"Foul!"

"Unfair!"

"What did you do to my men?"

"This is an overkill!"

"I should have gone with them...and died with them, too!"?


High-powered or not, guns and live ammo are for engagement in the battlefield of law enforcement agencies and belligerents. Not engagement to be married.

One is armed in full protective and destructive battle gear to fire out in offense or to fire out in defense. This is true for both sides of the combatants be they state or non-state groups.

Bulletproof vests are supposed to serve its purpose. To thwart from being fatally wounded when hit.

Rule of law must be upheld at all times. Law goes after criminal and lawless elements; be they low value or high value targets. Sadly, no POP for any cop will register in memory when you are in an unfriendly alien territory and your longevity is suddenly placed at high maximum risk; the instinct for authorities is just self-preservation.

The superiors and their men KNEW the odds.

BUT as it is when the insidious odds did happen;

They cannot face it.

They cannot accept that they have sent their own men to their own death.



Yes, the superiors did it when it ignored AHJAG- a crucial security coordinating mechanism that the covert mission couldn't do without; a mechanism whereby PNP-AFP and the Coordinating Committee on the Cessation of Hostilities (CCCH) can effectively coordinate, not sacrifice, the security imperatives that need to be met in order to interdict criminal groups, while upholding  the primacy of the peace process.

    The AHJAG is the cooperative mechanism between the government and the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF)  that responds to criminality and terrorism in areas with MILF presence... AHJAG's Revised Guidelines aim to advance coordination efforts  among the government agencies involved in law enforcement, namely the PNP, the AFP and the Coordinating Committee on the Cessation of Hostilities (CCCH) which is supervised by the government negotiating panel.

In order to enhance its security mechanisms and address lawless elements in conflict-affected areas of Mindanao, the Government of the Philippines (GPH) issued the Revised Joint AFP-PNP Operational Guidelines for the Ad Hoc Joint Action Group or AHJAG.


What we see on TV and social media network tells us that there is definitely no uniformed reaction from the public be they educated or deprived of education; literate or illiterate; be they incline to analyzing events or devoid of any semblance of analytical capacities.


But what is clear in the aftermath of the botched up Oplan Wolverine in Mamasapano- from the President of the Philippines down to the last of its Filipino citizen: everyone is besieged with haunting questions. Until now. Until when? Will we ever know: Just exactly what happened?

Taunting our wild imagination to go berserk against the injustice that conforms to our personal definition of justice replaced our idleness and so we resort to answering our questions with rhetoric bordering on satire, frivolity or utter severity which make it all far worse botched up than the botched up Oplan Wolverine!


War is bloody real. It is not unlike any of the best war films that reaped awards from film festivals and that questioned your own humanity as you questioned the humanity of those involved in the film; actual war such as we have personally witnessed cannot be labeled as a good cry. Simply because our own wars are raw and real.

We all cried in conformity to the deep emotions stirred within us.

Some of us cried and almost cried on television, onstage, in peace rallies, online with or without memes.

Some of us wept either loudly or silently together while some wept alone.


Justice is blind.

Justice won't judge you according to your face, color, gender, status, profession, race, creed, faith, not even will Justice judge even if you lack any of those mentioned.



Justice is blind. It doesn't see us and we don't see it either.

No wonder we cry out for it to manifest.

Justice! All out Justice!

Or did we mean vengeance, "all out vengeance!"?

Where is Justice?

Or are we just frustrated that there is no presidential command of all out war?

Consequently, we pour all of our putrefied vindictiveness on BBL because we feel it sinisterly looms like a giant menace far larger than our own baleful paranoia enhanced by our own ignorance for what BBL actually is.Thus, can you blame me if I join the commotion of emotional rhetoric:



    I echo the consternation of those who feel that BBL will be immolated as an appeasing sacrifice for the death of SAF44, yes, two of them are my Muslim kindred.
Will Congress slaughter BBL or Bangsamoro Basic Law?
Just like Congress killed MOA-AD then?
Is Congress now the abattoir of Right to Self-Determination and Peace?
Are we indigenous Bangsamoro by the millions part of the national fabric?
Is there us and them in the Philippines? 
     "History teaches us that the failure to uphold these rights and freedoms can actually fuel violent extremism," Obama said at the U.N. "When it comes to America and Islam, there is no us and them, there is only us -- because millions of Muslim Americans are part of the fabric of our country. So we reject any suggestion of a clash of civilizations."

 United States is weaning off itself from bigoted Islamophobia-xenophobia mindset despite its decisive counterterrorism efforts globally but is gravitating towards religious tolerance and fulfillment of human dignity and RSD as an option for peace. Can the same be said of the Filipino nation?

When we start to draw lines; we only widen the existing gap. When we stereotype and label; we nurture bigotry.  We cry out for justice out of frustration, out of anger, out of pain. So immense that we cry for justice bathed in blood.

We start to label, stereotype each other forgetting our own frailties.

Have we realized that this tragedy stripped our hearts of its contents just like what happened to the Pandora box?



We see the other as enemy, from the comfort zone of our point of view.

We evaluate war just like we do in movies: good guys versus bad guys.

We see what we want to see; and we ignore what we wish to ignore.

It is so easy for us to point out who to blame.

Ironically, we chose in order to survive NOT to point out the elephant in the room.

We either leave the room or continue to thrive in it by convincing ourselves that it does not exist. Even if it does.

Now, you probably understand why Justice did not use a horse's blind and why Justice chose to blindfold itself.



Truth is a silent witness; while falsehood is noisy. So noisy that it overpowers the lone voice of truth.

Oftentimes, truth remains silent to maintain peace.

It weighs the harm and the benefit for humanity before it ultimately speaks.

Truth can be painful for those who choose to live with their own versions of truth.

I wonder why is it so easy for most of us to confound truth with falsehood?

And even when it becomes imperative for us, can we summon our remaining scruples not to knowingly conceal the truth?



Indeed, only the compassionate, the just, and the true can honor a pact and can love peace without resorting to senseless bloodshed and violence.



For those of us who thirst and hunger for peace, and for those of us who thirst and hunger for war, and for those of us who thirst and hunger for food and water… for love, fame, power, and money…only you and your Creator know what you really thirst and hunger for in the recesses of your minds, hearts and souls- that is- if we have not lost our minds, hearts and souls…yet. Same goes to all parties who have struggled at all cost to sign and ink a peace agreement…I’d prefer ink and not write it as: “to sign and forge a peace agreement.”


    Trust is not trust which alters when its alteration finds; or bends with the remover to remove. O, no TRUST just like love is an everlasting mark that looks on tempest and is never shaken…if this be error and upon us proved, we never writ nor no peace panels ever trusted nor loved!

   

    War Is Bloody Real: Justice is Blind:Truth is a Silent Witness:and they did say War just like Cupid is stupid.



Oh, well! These luminaries who justify the rejection of BBL by romanticizing waywardly the GPH-MILF peace panel relationship that is now rocked by loyalty-trust-challenged from some if not ALL in their midst and from without inspired me to misquote Shakespeare’s Sonnet CXVI.


    Ignorance is a misfortune;

    BUT ignorance of statesmen and legislators

    about historical Injustice committed against Moros

     is a tragic misfortune!


    To Almighty ALLAH The Peace, The Most Just, The Truth, The All-Knowing and The Omniscient, we supplicate patiently for guidance as we exhort each other towards truth, peace and justice, as we exhort each other not to be among those who cause mischief as well as corruption on Earth; for whosoever ALLAH misguides no one will guide him and whosoever ALLAH guides no one can lead him astray. And indeed only You O ALLAH can avert the imminent death of Peace and Social Justice by its slayers in the Hallowed Halls of Congress...Ameen Ya Rabb.

Friday, February 6, 2015

7 Feb 1974: This is MY Story; What's Yours?

ISN'T IT ABOUT TIME? To chronicle undocumented war for PEACE?


Today is Saturday February 7, 2015.
It is the 4th month of Hijrah Calendar: 17th day of Rabi’II , Year 1436.
Forty one years ago, it was still February 7 but not Saturday; it was on a Monday, year 1974.
It was the 12th month of Hijrah Calendar: 13th day of Rabi’II , Year 1393.

Just what did happen last February 7, 1974 in the town of Jolo, province of Sulu?

This is my story...what is yours?


Feb 7, 1974: Montage From A Kid's Memory Bank

by Warina Sushil A. Jukuy

Originally published: Jihad al Akbar Bilingual Magazine 2003
Greatest Jihad Against the SELF: A Catalyst for Proactive Change
(Written in Tausug dialect and in English language)

7th of February 1974.Batih na kamu, yanna simud in mga mawisss!” (* Mawis= Tausug pidgin for Maoist referring to the mujahideen or MNLF freedomfighters) “Wake up, the mawiss are here!” Seems just like a moment ago to my reverie, I can still vividly recall, waking up at early dawn hour of prayer, I heard the muezzin’s call emanating from Chinese Pier mosque, resonating in my ears, as it assailed my senses. The reverberating sounds (of adhan and the Herald’s shout) pitted to hound each other simultaneously like the speed of sound and light. (Was it because my mind was hazily asleep from abrupt wakefulness? Or my mind in its juvenile state was indeed soporific not merely out of drowsiness?)

    The montage of war is still vivid in my mind; of mortar shrapnels and bullet shells wheezing by to deadly thud on the ground. How many coconut trunks were devastated? How many human bodies were strafed down by stray bullets and shrapnels? How many old and young people, men and women alike? Was there anyone who even bothered to count? Roaring thunder rolled across Lupah Sug’s sky as well as across the horizon of Sulu’s Ocean; not borne by Nature but by the AFP during Marcos’ regime. We were bombarded by airplanes from above and by navy boats from across the seas.

    We, young and old civilians, were merely crammed between the firing exchanges of two factions of combatants: we were sandwiched in the middle by our freedom fighters on one side and by government-soldiers (the civilians’ so called defenders) on the other side. Nevertheless, it was us--vulnerable civilians-- who were severely devastated, oppressed--- because we did not have weapons to defend ourselves, we did not have the means to defy them and fight back; our fate was akin to animals whose destiny were to be slaughtered in the abattoir, stripped of choice. Qadar ALLAH! These memories indelibly clung inside our hearts as Time fleeted by.

    Scurrying civilians were overwhelmed by fatigue as they wearily trudged the shorelines of Sulu Sea. The strength of their arms and limbs were too overcome by defeat to issue a protest: “Enough please!” Well, the burden that they were lugging in the course of fleeing was sufficiently heavy as well. Cumbersome loads of personal belongings that they carry on their head, hunching their napes, not to mention the burdensome weight that they carry inside their heads as well as the weight they heave inside their chest. Notwithstanding, they willfully trekked and traced the shorelines as they scampered away from their Home, burning aflame.

    Others have said that it (burning) was the machination of the government so that the freedomfighters would be shooed out of their sanctuaries. Still others have said that the culprit was the military who initiated the burning but thereafter “the martyred witnesses” who valiantly fought in the name of Ancestral Homeland, Indigenous Race and Islam--- were the ones who set further ablaze the fire. Where are the vestiges of the MNLF history in 1974? Where have all the widows and orphans of the martyred ones gone? What Fate has befallen the unforgotten heroes’ widows and orphans? Were the traces effaced from the pages of Bangsamoro history? Or, were these narratives have actually never even been inscribed on the pages of our history? Not even were they inscribed on the pages of our human minds? How long have they really held Jolo under siege? We wonder about the Truth. Did the Truth dissolve into oblivion along with the shahids just like how “ The Witnesses” vanished into their hallowed graves?

    Smeared in blood by a martyr’s fingers, these words of proof congealed on the walls of the Notre Dame of Jolo College’s rooftop:

    “Kami nagparang sabil ha ngan sin Hulah, Bangsa iban Agama…”
[We chose martyrdom for Allah's sake in the name of  Homeland, Nation, and Way of Life-Islam]
PHOTO CREDIT: abuazzam | MNLF

Inna lillaahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un....To ALLAH we belong, and to ALLAH we all shall return....

O Allah, forgive our living and our dead, those who are present among us and those who are absent, our young and our old, our males and our females. O Allah, whoever You keep alive, keep him alive in Islam, and whoever You cause to die, cause him to die with faith. O Allah, do not deprive us of the reward and do not cause us to go astray after this). Ameen, Ameen. Ameen Ya Rabb!

Allaahu akbar! Allaahu akbar! Allaahu akbar! “Allaahumma ighfir lihaayina wa mayitina wa shaahidina wa ghaa’ibina wa sagheerina wa kabeerina wa dhakarina wa unthaana. Allaahumma man ahyaytahu minna fa ahyihi ‘ala’l-Islam wa man tawaffaytahu minna fa tawiffahu ‘ala’l-eemaan..Allaahumma laa tahrimna ajrahu wa la tadillanaa ba’dahu.




TAUSUG VERSION 

Petsa 7 Tahun 1974: Patta-Sarsila Dayng ha Panumtum Mussik

[Feb 7, 1974: Montage From A Kid's Memory Bank]

lyukis hi Warina Sushil A. Jukuy

Originally published: Jihad al Akbar Bilingual Magazine 2003
Greatest Jihad Against the SELF: A Catalyst for Proactive Change
(Written in Tausug dialect and in English language)



Petsa 7, tahun 1974. “Batih na kamu yanna simud in mga mawisss!” Biyah kahnu-kahnu ra yaun, katumtuman ku pa, nakabati aku sin waktu subuh, dyungug ku daing ha masjid sin Tinda Laud in azan daing ha bilal maglagublub pa---bang sumandung pa pikilan. Agad magdungan in katingug sin azan iban gasud biyah mag-agaw mag-apas sapantun katingug iban sahaya nag-aabay karuwa. (Unu baha lahpung pa in pikilan ku ha karu? Atawa in pikilan ha kabata asal lahpung misan way kiyakaru?)

Marukut pa ha pikilan in mga patta katumtuman. Supik mortar iban kalsu-punglu maghaging sadja lumabay sartah matanak pa lupah ha tingug kamatay. Pila batang niyug in nasapsay? Pila manusiyah in nasabat? Maas , bata, kausugan iban mga kababaihan? Awn pa baha nag-itung? Lagublub sin daugdug ha babaw langit sin Lupah Sug iban daing ha Laud Sug in karungugan. Bukun kariyasali sah kakahinangan sin AFP ha waktu pamissuku sin Pamarinta-Marcos.

Hat kami bata-maas sibilyan nakapa-ut sin karuwa-hansipak nag-aatubang: ha gihtungan sin mga mujahideen natu iban sin mga sundalu-parinta isab ha hansipak. Sumagawa, kami mga sibilyan in landuh nahansul-kiyalaugan ---anduh kailu---pasalan way sinapang namuh, di kami maka-atu, biyah kami mga binatang in qadar sumbayi-un, di na makapagbayah. Qadar ALLAH! Ha limabay waktu, in mga pangitaan ini dimukut ha lawm pangatayan namuh.

In mga sibilyan-paguy hapu na ha pagsusulan sin kahigaran dagat sin Sug. In mga siki-lima nila diyaug kusug di na maka-iyan “sarang na!” Sarang da isab in buggat sin idarahan nila pamusut hiyahambiyul ha pagpaguyan. Pangdara liyulutu ha taas-u, kuttung na kailu in buli-pugay, dugaing pa in liyulutu ha lawm utuk iban buggat piyapahsan ha lawm daghal. Matilusa nila siyusul, iyurul in higad buhangin ha pagpaguyan, lumayu ha Hulah iyangpud na.

Laung sin kaibanan, parinta in tag-kahinangan hasupaya maruy paguwah ha pyagkyukupalan laung nila sin mga mujahideen. Laung isab sin kaibanan, tiyagnaan sin military sah siyunuan da dyahpugan sin sila mga nashahid ha pagparang sabilan ha ngan sin hulah, bangsa iban agama. Haunu na in tandah sin silsilah sin MNLF ha waktu 1974? Nakapakain na in mga kabaluhan iban kailuhan sin sila nagka-shahid? Unu na baha in sukud myabut pa mga ilu iban mga balu sin mga gagandilan natu nagkashahid? Napapas na ha gikap sin silsilah sin Bangsamoro? Atawa kagaid wala kiyagikapan? Misan da kuman ha pikilan? Byadiin in lugay nakapalawm lima nila in Lupah Sug? Unu baha in kasabunnalan? Miyagad na baha pa lawm gumi biyah ra sin mga nagkashahid miyagad kanila timalbang?

Liyukis ha duguh sin gulamay lima sin hambuuk shahid, in mga kabtangan ini karnah
panaksi timahay ha dingding sin rooftop sin Notre Dame of Jolo College
: “Kami nagparang sabil ha ngan sin Hulah, Bangsa iban Agama…”

Inna lillaahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un....To ALLAH we belong, and to ALLAH we all shall return....
 

Magsukul tuud Carolyn O. Arguillas​ of Mindanews​ for the photos, as a child of war... I need to see those imageries and compare it with those in repose at peace from my reverie...somehow in ALLAH, we peacefully retain our sense of equilibrium to avoid reeling from the vertigo of war blues. Big hugs, Carol, big hugs.


The Beth's Studio owned by Jose Duarte Sr

 
shared via Carol Arguillas'FB | The JOLO-CAUST by SAID SADAIN.
PHOTO CREDIT: mnlf.net
by Carolyn Arguillas | MindaNews. 1st published at www.mindanews.com on 7 Feb 2004. 30th Anniversary of the Burning of Jolo...

Let us chronicle the undocumented narratives from the survivors of the Feb 7 1974 Siege of Jolo, Sulu!

Share your personal narrative, fotos, voice clips, snitches of accounts in Bahasa Sug or otherwise.

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