Of (Heart)Beats and Bylines [Completed]

Chapter 30- Giving Way

The setting was in a playground. There were children all around it but alongside them were armed men and tanks. The sun was shining brightly.  It was a day that was perceived to be conducive for playing, but up in the sky was an airstrike that was unmindful of the city's residents.

This is what was being depicted on the drawing taped on the wall. This artwork was made by a little child, upon the encouragement of the teachers for youngsters to turn their trauma into something more productive.

I couldn't stop staring at this drawing; it is incredibly sad that a young life has experienced something as savage as this scenario. After what seemed like ages, I diverted my eyes to the rest of the surroundings. I am in a makeshift school for the children of families displaced by insurgency, as my latest assignment required me to cover.

Some children are luckier because they have been integrated with classes in an actual school. In both cases however, the children have to contend with tiny spaces, not to mention with the attention of their educators which has to be shared with scores of other students.

"Ang maganda sa mga bata, madali naman silang maka-adjust at basta nakakapaglaro sila, masaya na sila," shared one of the teachers. As an outlet to release their trauma, teachers-- upon the guidance of social workers --encourage them to participate in psychosocial activities such as this art making.

When these children go home though is a different matter. For now, "home" is in an evacuation center where thousands of other families are also stationed temporarily. The areas are very cramped and children are the most prone to illnesses.

"Yung mga matatanda din, madali silang magkasakit," said one of the social workers overseeing this evacuation center. "Katunayan, may dalawa nang namatay dito sa center na 'to at dahil ito sa dehydration. Meron din mga ibang matatanda na nai-injury dahil walang kuryente at dahil kailangan nilang magbanyo sa gabi, naaaksidente sila."

Potable water and proper sanitation are just few of the problems of these displaced residents. There was this one woman, already heavily pregnant, who was only able to save herself and her five children. "Wala kaming nadala. Sarili lang namin. Tinawid namin yung bundok ng isang lingo para lang makaalis dun sa sagupaan at makalikas sa evacuation center. Nanghihiram na lang kami ng damit at iba pang gamit."

In an insurgency, who really wins? It is most definitely not the civilians whose daily lives have been disrupted. All of them are itching to go back home but they are faced with the uncertainly of the life that awaits them. Some of them are worried that their houses have crumbled to the ground or if they are still intact, they have been looted thoroughly. Others are also anxious that they have no more jobs to go back to and that their livelihoods are gone and have frittered away.

Still, the resiliency of Filipinos has always been admirable. Donations to the evacuation centers keep pouring in. And when it's time to go back home, I know that "bayanihan" will prevail.

~~~~~

Sir Andy was not kidding when he said that communication signals there are intermittent. In most cases, the signals were non-existent.

I am missing RJ terribly, but I know I will be seeing him tomorrow. I will be covering a senate event and I am sure I will be bumping into him there.

~~~~~

I can hardly concentrate on covering what is going on. I have been craning my neck every so often to look for RJ. I see Jerald taking photos from various sides of the hall but I have yet to spot RJ.

The event is finally over, so I took the opportunity to catch up on Jerald on our way out of the building.

"Jerald! Jerald!" I called loudly so he would look back. He did and he stopped near the building entrance.

"Hi Maine," he greeted as I caught up with him. "It's a good thing you saw me because I have been looking for you."

I decided to skip the pleasantries and go direct to the point. "You have?" I asked starting to feel my hands getting clammy. "Where's RJ?" I stammered.

"He has been trying to calling you the past couple of days," Jerald explained.

Then he dropped the bomb. "Maine, RJ has resigned."

Confusion and disbelief registered in my face. "What?" I managed to whisper.

"He has resigned. But not without writing you this letter. He had a hunch we might see each other here." Jerald added as reached deep inside his bag and handed me a sealed envelope.