WAY down South there was once a peaceful place. The serene waters of Lake Lanao are surrounded by towering coconuts against the backdrop of a greenish, forest-covered mountain and blue sky. This is the place officially known as the Islamic City of Marawi.
Only 4 percent of the total 201,785 people here are Christians. But the violence that erupted here on May 23 started far beyond the difference between believers of Islam or Christianity. The difference is as far as Pagadian City and Marawi City, indeed, but the violence is as near as the relationship of the peoples.
On the way to Marawi one can take a side trip to the breathtaking Maria Cristina Falls, a place that Maranaos can boast of because it also generates electricity that powers their lives.
The four-month-old war between the government forces and the terrorist group Maute has shattered that pride and the tranquillity of Marawi. It also left people to live a nightmare for 125 days. For most of them, these days felt like an eternity.
The largest city of Lanao del Sur is now a ghost town; a place Maranaos once called home. Everywhere one looks, homes and buildings are riddled with bullets or damaged by fire from the armed fighting on the ground and bombs dropped from warplanes.
Because they are among the casualties of war, thousands have been forced to evacuate and live in temporary shelters if they have no relatives in adjacent areas like Iligan or Cagayan de Oro cities.
A yellow tent in Balo-i, Lanao del Norte, for instance, serves as one such place to stay for those with no relatives outside Marawi. The cold ground serves as their bed. A hole in the ground serves as a toilet. What looks like a mini fireplace from afar is where they cook their meals—less than three a day.
A total of five families live inside one tent.
Given their nightmarish experiences, worries and burdens that they now face, the colorful kerudung worn by women seem to hide the true color of their life as they attend a psycho-social talk given by a social worker.
A smile with sad eyes explains the burden the children have been through, while performing exercises that help them to forget the traumatic experience they’ve been through at such a young age. Despite all the smiles, their eyes would still betray their feelings. Who, indeed, can ever forget the nightmare brought on Marawi since May 23?
Abolkhair Marangit and his family are among those called “internally displaced persons” (IDP) who live in one of the evacuation centers in barangay Bito Buadi Itowa, Marawi City, Lanao del Sur.
“Lahat ng mga bagay na naipundar ko, nawala sa isang iglap,” Marangit said. “Mabuti nga’t kasama ko pa pamilya ko, kaso wala na kong maitulong; nakakalungkot ngang isipin [Everything I owned disappeared in a blink of an eye. The only thing I can be thankful for is our family is still intact. But I can’t do anything more; which brings me sadness everytime I think about it].”
Marangit earned his keep as a tricycle driver before violence erupted in Marawi City.
“Lahat talaga nawala, pati yong motor ko, nawala. Sa katunayan, hindi ito unang beses naming lumipat ng tent [I lost everything. Honestly this is not the first time we transferred to a tent],” he said.
Marangit paused to remember his experience in the first tent he and his family lived in.
He said they experienced a shortage in relief goods.
“Sa unang tent namin, nakulangan sa relief goods. Hindi ko hinayaang doon kami manirahan kasi ’di ka talaga makakakain; unahan talaga doon. Minsan nga, palakasan pa [In our first tent, we didn’t get much relief goods. I didn’t want my family to stay there because they really can’t have a decent meal; you have to fight for a share of the relief goods. Some peddle influence].”
He considers the tent they currently stay in better than the previous sites.
“Pero iba pa rin talaga ’yung dati [It’s still different before the war].”
Congestion and sanitation are the major problems that evacuees have to bear. One comfort room that has been filled with human waste is being used by everyone, heightening the risk of health problems especially for children. Without proper ventilation inside the tent, if someone gets ill, everybody in that particular tent faces the risk of acquiring a disease, too.
A member of the Civilan Armed Forces Geographical Unit (Cafgu) assigned at the frontline has his family in the evacuation center.
“Ayaw ko sana itira ang pamilya ko sa evacuation center kasi alam kong mahihirapan sila, wala kasing sapat na gamit doon; ni electric fan nga wala,” the Cafgu member said. “Sobrang init pa kasi walang hangin, dito pa nga lang sa labas mainit na. Pero kahit paano tiyaga ang kailangan talaga para mabuhay [I really didn’t want my family in the evacuation center because I know it would be difficult for them because the tent doesn’t have basic appliances like an electric fan. It’s too hot inside because even here outside the tent, there’s nary a breeze. Nevertheless, we need to persevere if we want to live].”
But all hope is not lost.
A stone’s throw away, soldiers put finishing touches on one of 50 houses to serve as an immediate shelter and accommodation housing. The houses were inaugurated by President Duterte on October 2. The houses were built by soldiers belonging to the 1st Infantry Tabak Division, 54th Engineering Brigade, Mechanized Infantry Division, Chinese Filipino Business Club Inc. and the Tarlac Heritage Foundation.
Photos inside the Tent City of Balo-I and Bito Buadi Itowa show the stories of a proud people displaced, barely surviving, but determined to rebuild their lives again.