MOTHER OF ONE
“But sadly, the more good you do for your fellow Filipinos in this country, the sooner you get to your grave.” — Mae Paner
by Pablo Tariman
She could have been my daughter
Or a neighbor’s sister.
Who would think of even
Killing her Monday night
On her way to a boarding house?
She is a church worker
And mother of an 11-year old girl.
How do you break the sad news
Of her mother’s death
And the bullets that riddled
Her young body?
She could have been a good teacher
In any rural school.
But she chose to live
With farm hands
Living an exploited life.
To her
There is more nobility
With just being
The voice of courage
In a hungry, poverty-driven milieu
But life has better things
To teach her.
She found strength
Just living with the poor
And finding ways to empower them.
She knew she had it coming
When she lived a life
Inside detention cell
For two hapless years of her life.
It was then that
She learned to fear no one
While coping with death threats
In the remaining days
Of her life.
She probably drew fortitude
From the death
Of constituents
Whose lives also ended
Biting cold bullets
In their last working day
On earth.
She didn’t fear
The state’s death squad
Inspired by a leader
Caught showing a dirty finger
On national television
On the day her life ended
With a rain of bullets.
I cannot imagine
How her daughter’s life
Would proceed without her.
Gone are the motherly nights
When she’d find courage
Just reading stories
To her dear little one
Still hopeful
For a better day.
She has remained
A profile of courage
Even as she has lost count
Of more dead friends
Waging a good fight
In the countryside.
I like her brand of courage
And the nobility of her mission
Which you cannot say
Of that mad man
Running this country.
Not even the deadly virus
And threats of bullets
Could stop her
From finding strength and solidarity
With her exploited people.
She will find tears useless
On the day her coffin
Is lowered to her modest grave.
To be sure
She can use roses
Falling on her coffin.
The gentle thud of soil
Falling on her grave
Is enough to remind one and all:
She lived a brave struggle
Even during the dark days
Of the deadly virus
And of a brand of leadership
That has gone down
In such state of disrepute.
Yes
Her bravery was one of a kind.
And her name was Zara Alvarez.
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