I first heard it from my hairstylist: a grade 11 boy was framed and killed for peddling drugs. His name is Kian de los Santos.
I keep seeing his name on Twitter. Everybody is angry and we have yet to hear from the President. I want to see the President denounce it on TV, say that it was wrong and it needs to stop.
I believe Kian is innocent, but even if he weren’t, does the kid deserve to die?
I have a son in the 11th grade.
I’ve been so bothered by it that I had to remove Twitter from my phone.
The last time I got really affected was when I saw this picture taken by Raffy Lerma last July 2016.
You can read about the death of Michael Siaron HERE.
The photo haunted me for nights. I couldn’t sleep. Whenever I would talk about it with my husband, he didn’t want to have any of it. It bothered him so much.
I couldn’t stop thinking of it—of her—so I contacted Raffy Lerma on Instagram where I follow him.
I told Raffy I wanted to meet the widow Jennilyn Olayres.
A few days later I received a text from Jennilyn and asked my friend Dinna to come with me to the province to meet her.
We drove to a far away SM Mall and waited at the food court. Then Jennilyn texted me she was already there. I found her with her pregnant sister-in-law and my first instinct was to hug her and cry. She hugged me really hard but did not cry.
We sat at the food court, though nobody was hungry. She told me her story with Michael. They were not married, but they lived together and she loved him. He was a drug user but he didn’t harm anyone but himself.
It was close to midnight when it started raining cats and dogs. He decided to take his father-in-law’s sidecar since people took more rides when it was raining. He figured he could make a few bucks.
Before leaving Jennilyn at home, he gave her his last 80 pesos so she could have something to eat.
Not too long after there was a commotion in the neighborhood. She heard something had happened to Michael. At first she thought he had a vehicular accident. She ran out, and when she got to the crime scene, the place was filled with onlookers, police, photographers and cameras.
At first they wouldn’t let her across the cordon, but she fought her way in.
“Ako ang asawa!” she yelled at them.
She found his body, cradled it and cried for help but nobody took them to the hospital. She thought he still had a chance but he was already dead.
Dinna asked why her leg was around his body. She said she was trying to cover him because they kept taking photos.
I cried while she told me the story. It felt like she was the one comforting me.
I wanted to see her because I wanted to give her some money to help her get by, even for a few weeks. She accepted it, then we hugged and said goodbye.
I have not seen her since. Her entire family and many neighbors have fled the city because they are scared to die.
Now Kian is dead.
This afternoon I was walking in the mall with Dinna and I told her the world is changing—can you feel it? Even my life is painful. You can feel it in the air. It is so thick. I cannot take it.
I decided to disable Twitter on my phone. I cannot take the world right now with the Andy Bautista and UBER, Charlottesville, Barcelona, Trump and the massacre in Bulacan.
I can feel everything even though I am mostly at home.
I don’t really know what is going on in the world. I am freaking out and I want to clear my head.
I didn’t vote last May 2016 because I didn’t think anyone was worth voting for.
Knowing our President, he’s not going to do something about Kian and I cannot take it. Something is very wrong with the world. I don’t know what to do except pray.