You could tell that the situation had become grave. When I was in prison, news came to me about adventurism, you know. Of course I’d complained because there were arrests among my comrades who were linked to kidnappings and ransom. I complained about why this was happening. This was a wrongheaded direction of the movement.
D: Adventurism?
L: Maybe. Not only adventurism, but gangsterism also. I complained about these. Even when I was out, I was always one of those trying to hold back what appeared to be strong and rapid strains toward military adventurism. My oldest daughter was born in the countryside. That was the first time when there were major TOs (tactical offensives) launched by the NPA. But the response naturally was also large TOs by the military. The mass bases were hardly equipped to defend themselves. In the end it was the mass base that bore the brunt of the military. They were the ones who got arrested.
When I was released I immediately got integrated into legal work. I joined the NGOs. I joined Kapatid and worked for the release of political prisoners.
D: What year?
L: In 1990. Then I went back to school and got a degree! [Laughs.]
D: You went back to first year?
L: Yes, I had to go back to the first year, studying for an education degree.
D: Where?
L: In CPU. But CPU told me I should use “Dominado” and not “Posa” in order not to call people’s attention. There were conditions to my enrolment. That I shouldn’t join student activists. [Laughs.] So I told them it’s not as though I’m still young. The LFS is for young kids. I’m going to do political work outside the university instead.
D: What’s with the “Posa” name?
L: Well, Posa is a well-recognized name here. Posa has become synonymous with “Commander Posa.” [Laughs.] Also perhaps because of my numerous arrests–I was captured, then escaped, then captured again, then escaped again and so on [laughs]–the label “Commander Posa” became bandied around.
D: So what’s the impression the public has of Commander Posa?
L: That’s just it. When I was not in detention, usually over the radio there’d be news about an ambush by the NPA. And people would talk about a woman being involved [laughs], and the name Commander Posa would come up. Of course that wasn’t me. Nonetheless there was this talk about a woman atop a white horse—a pure figment of the military’s imagination. Because really, I was not a combatant. My work was organizing, not combat. But that’s the story that went about.
As a result when I was back in college I was instructed not to use Posa, and to have no involvement in student activism.
Right now I’m involved in the community. I can’t talk about everything because now there’s repression again. [Laughs.]
D: Yes, I understand.
L: So far all cases against me have been dismissed. Either they were dismissed or I was acquitted. So many cases they slapped on me—there’s murder, double murder, illegal possession of firearms. But in 1990 just before my release, I was acquitted. In the beginning I was released on bail, but as the trial proceeded the charges were dismissed.
D: You went through a trial?
L: Yes. That’s why I was moved from one place to another, from Antique to Mambusao, heavily guarded. [Laughs.] But in the end no case against me stuck.
