Ampatuan massacre ends budding journalist’s dream

“I-ampo ko diri kay naa na mi diri sa Ampatuan. Kritikal amo sitwasyon diri (Please pray for us, we’re already here in Ampatuan. Our situation here is critical)." This text message was the last one that Joseph got from his brother at quarter to 12 noon on November 23. Like his 56 companions, 25 year-old journalist Noel Decena was silenced by bullets before he was buried in a 10-foot-deep pit in the mountainous portion of Ampatuan town’s Sitio Mansalay. Buried, too, was Decena’s dream for his 16-year-old brother. “Pangako ni kuya, pag-aaralin n’ya ko ng college…Agribusiness sana gusto kong kunin (My brother promised me that he would let me go to college. I wanted to take up a course in agribusiness)," Joseph says. Joseph learned from Noel what selflessness meant. "May girlfriend si kuya, pero ayaw niya pang mag-asawa, kasi gusto niya kong makatapos muna." (My brother had a girlfriend, but he did not want to get married yet because he wanted me to finish school first.) It was also because of his concern for Joseph that Noel left his hometown of Midsayap in North Cotabato where he had worked as a warehouseman at a shopping mall. He looked for better opportunities in Koronadal City in South Cotabato where he was hired as circulation manager and reporter-trainee in the Hiligaynon weekly Periodico Ini. Binigyan ko siya ng break. Masipag si Noel, magiging magaling sana siyang journalist. Mahal niya ang pamilya niya… lalo na ang kapatid n'yang lalaki. Mahirap lang sila, ang tatay n'ya driver, pero palaging may sakit, may high blood," says Periodico Ini editor in chief Ferdinand Solinap. (I gave him a break. Noel was hardworking, he could have been a good journalist. He loved his family, especially his younger brother… They are poor, his father is a driver, but he is always sick, he suffers from high blood pressure.) The job that Noel chose, however, did not help him build his dream for Joseph. It led him to his grave. Most horrible time in RP media history The Philippines was once regarded as Asia’s freest press. But with the massacre in Maguindanao, the truth was revealed. According to press freedom watchdogs, the country is in fact the world’s deadliest place for mediamen. And for danger-prone community journalists like Noel, reporting facts and seeking truth also meant dying in the line of duty. [See: Journalist in Ampatuan town carnage saw himself on front page] The darkest time in the history of Philippine media only happened in about four hours. Between 11 a.m. and 3 p.m., bullets released by 5.56 belt-fed mini M16 rifles killed at least 30 journalists, including four other staffers of Periodico Ini. [See: List of media casualties in the Maguindanao massacre] Based on the estimate of a police officer, one piece of the said assault rifle costs between P180,000 and P370,000, perhaps more expensive than the annual salary of a struggling journalist like Noel. The number of dead journalists in that single horrible event in Maguindanao is equivalent to a seven-year total of media fatalities in the Philippines. Ninety-eight journalists were killed from 1986 to 2008, based on the tally of the National Union of Journalists of the Philippines. This means that annually, in the last 22 years, close to five journalists were being killed in the Philippines. There’s no sign that the killings will stop in a country that supposedly professes justice and democracy, but ironically tolerates impunity. As election time nears, killings could happen again, perhaps in another place that has the same breed of warlord-families competing for power over purse and politics. [See: Threat of another rido looms in Maguindanao] There's also no sign that the interdependence between national leaders and local warlord-politicians will soon end. Warlord-politicians deliver the votes to national leaders. In turn, national leaders ensure the warlords' political and economic control of their turf, making the latter do whatever they want in their bailiwicks, for instance, killing journalists without being punished. [See: Arroyo senatorial bets go 12-0 in Maguindanao] History professor Alfred McCoy explains that political power comes from the base – from the local rulers who for instance can make kings (and queens) out of politicians seeking national posts. This, he said, has made the "Philippine state… weak and incapable of controlling the powerful families that plunder its assets, rule its provinces, and contend for control of national politics." Undaunted Meanwhile, Solinap, the only member left in Periodico Ini's editorial team after five of his staffers died in the massacre, remains undaunted. "I will continue publishing. This is not just business. This is a vocation. I don’t fear death, it’s part of the hazards of the trade," says Solinap, adding that he is even encouraging his 17-year-old son, Kennedy, to become a journalist, too. [See: After massacre, only editor of Koronadal weekly survives] The 30 massacred journalists did not die in vain, according to Solinap. "Namatay sila pero naging daan ito para lumabas ang katotohan. Marami nang napabalitang karahasan sa Maguindanao pero 'di napatunayan. Ngayon, lumabas na ang totoo." (Their death became the way to the truth. There were many reports about violence in Maguindanao but these were not proven. Now, the truth has come out.) - MDM, GMANews.TV