By RONALYN V. OLEA
Bulatlat

MANILA – In a perfect world, Karen Empeño and Sherlyn Cadapan never would have met. The atrocity that befell them, a most horrendous fate, never would have happened. And they never would have stood now as a testament to the rot that is eating away at the core of this country.

Three years ago, on June 26, the two students from the University of the Philippines were abducted by suspected military men in Hagonoy, Bulacan, a province north of Manila. Their disappearance took place at a time when Central Luzon was being riven by a fierce conflict between the government and the communist New People’s Army.

Prosecuting this war on the government side was then Maj. Gen. Jovito Palparan, who had brought to Bulacan and its nearby provinces the same anti-communist zeal – some say madness — that he had wrought on Oriental Mindoro, his previous assignment. The target of his campaign were not just the armed communists but anybody who was suspected of having even a hint of sympathy to the guerrillas. It is a policy replicated in other parts of the country, one that has resulted in the death, torture and disappearance of thousands of Filipinos, mostly activists.

According to testimonies of witnesses, it was Palparan’s men that abducted, tortured and raped Sherlyn and Karen. They killed a farmer, Manuel Merino, who was abducted along with the two women.

Raymond Manalo, a farmer also from Bulacan, had testified in court and before the United Nations Human Rights Council that he and his brother, Reynaldo, had been abducted in February 2006 and tortured by Palparan’s men in a military camp. There, he saw Merino being burned alive by soldiers. In that same camp, Manalo said, he came to know Sherlyn and Karen and had heard their cries as they were being shackled, tortured and raped by soldiers.

Sherlyn and Karen remain missing. The murderers of Merino are still scot-free. Manalo has yet to see behind bars any one of those who tortured him and his brother for 18 months. Palparan, the fair-haired boy of President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo in her campaign to wipe out the communists by next year, is now a congressman.

In a perfect world, this never would have happened.

Karen Empeño: Young Radical

Karen was born an activist.

Her father, Oscar, had been a leader of the union at a branch of the Bank of the Philippine Islands in Zambales. When the workers held a strike, Karen went with her father to the picketline. She was only two years old at the time.

“She was holding a placard while her father was carrying her,” Connie, Karen’s mother, recalled. At home, Oscar would play progressive songs on the karaoke and Karen would memorize them.

Connie said they had noticed Karen’s intelligence early in her childhood. In kindergarten, she already knew how to read, flipping through the pages of Malaya and the Philippine Daily Inquirer at a very young age.

It was Oscar who taught Karen how to read. In their modest home, they had plenty of books. While Connie was off teaching at the local school, Oscar, who worked the night shift at a BPI branch in Zambales, taught the Empeño children at home, reading to them tales about heroes and revolutionaries who, despite the odds, vanquished repression.

“Her father had the greatest influence on her studies and on her activism,” Connie said.

Karen is the third in a family of five children and it is Karen’s gift to lighten the day of her siblings and the people around here. “Her friends would always tell me that they miss Karen’s playfulness,” Connie said.

During summer and semestral breaks, Karen would invite her friends to their home in Masinloc, Zambales. “We were so happy to see her happy around her friends,” her mother said.

At the University of the Philippines in Diliman, where Karen studied sociology, she became a member of the League of Filipino Students (LFS).

Cocoy, a close friend of Karen’s who talked to Bulatlat on condition of anonymity, described her as “a simple hardcore activist.”

Karen’s wardrobe is that of the usual activist – tubao (scarf) in her head, Mojo sandals, T-shirts printed with political words and images.

Karen is a jolly fellow who had the tendency to use gay language and expressions, such as “Ano veh?” (“Cut it out!”) each time someone teased her. She is also very playful, Cocoy recalled. “I feel dizzy. I need love,” she would exclaim, feigning to faint.

During one demonstration in front of the Senate to protest a bill that would revise the UP charter, Cocoy recalled how Karen maintained her mirth despite becoming so agitated when a policeman struck her with a truncheon. She was so angry at the police, Cocoy recalled, but a few seconds later, she was already laughing about it. “I lost my poise,” Karen said, grinning.

Karen’s life trajectory at UP was going toward being an activist. She stayed in the Sampaguita and Kalayaan dormitories during her first years at the university but later transferred to a boarding house with fellow activists.

This provided her room to pursue her activism; her playfulness did not disappear. She and her housemates would sometimes even play hide-and-seek at a nearby grocery, Cocoy recalled.

Cocoy said Karen would always see to it that the house was clean. “She is caring, like a mother. She would always remind us of little things. We call her Nanen, a combination of the words nanay (mother) and Karen.”

Beneath her cheerful disposition, Karen is a serious activist. “She is never late during meetings,” Cocoy said. “She wants to be as detailed as possible about plans.”

Cocoy said they would wake up early, have some coffee and Karen would play the guitar. Her favorite song is “Bangon, Maria.”

“I used to wake up late and was always late for meetings,” Cocoy confessed. Karen, he said, changed him. “She speaks her mind,” he said.

Karen is a good organizer. “She was among those who established the Anak ng Bayan chapter in Payatas,” Cocoy said, referring to a progressive youth group. Payatas is an urban-poor community in Quezon City.

“Her heart is pure. Her trust in her comrades and in the masses is genuine,” Cocoy said.

It was inevitable that, for her sociology thesis, Karen chose to study and chronicle the life of peasants in Bulacan.

Sherlyn Cadapan: Sprint Queen

Sherlyn is the second in six siblings. Her mother, Linda, described her to Bulatlat as a helpful daughter and sister. “She does the household chores,” Linda said.

Sherlyn’s father, Asher, said Sherlyn is also thoughtful. “She always called me up when I was working in Mindoro.” Wherever she was, she would always go home to celebrate important occasions with her family.

Sherlyn played the role of big sister to her siblings. She would often write to them, Linda said, reminding them of important things.

While studying in UP, Sherlyn made sure to look after a younger sister who was also enrolled at the university. “They had limited allowance. When it was time to eat, she would see to it that her sister had something to eat, too. She shared everything with her sister,” Linda said.

To support her needs in school, Sherlyn worked as a tutor. “Life in college was difficult. Sometimes, we could only give them just enough for their transportation,” Asher said.

Eventually, Sherlyn stopped schooling so that her sister could continue her studies.

Linda said Sherlyn had only three subjects left before she could graduate from her course, sports science. Before Sherlyn was abducted, Linda was trying to convince her to finish her course.

Sherlyn was a sprint champion. She started her career in track-and-field when she was in second year high school.

Early on, she won in regional competitions and qualified for the national competitions. In one of those games, she was runner-up to Nancy Navalta, one of the country’s fastest runners, and had the chance to be trained by Elma Muroz.

Sherlyn qualified as a varsity scholar at the College of Human Kinetics (CHK) in UP Diliman. “She was focused on sports and on her studies,” Asher said.

During her days at the university, Sherlyn would run around the university’s oval early morning. Like any disciplined athlete, she never got tired of practice and workouts.

At UP, Sherlyn became a student leader. She was a member of the Beta Lambda Kappa Sorority and was elected CHK college representative in 1999.

A close friend and fellow student leader, Nerve Macaspac, said Sherlyn was popular in her college. “Fellow varsity players would always look for She whenever they had problems in academics, in sports and even in personal matters,” he said, using Sherlyn’s nickname.

Sherlyn has a shrill voice and speaks loud, Nerve added. She has a hearty laughter and, like Karen, often uses the gay lingo “chorva.”

Sherlyn was warm to her colleagues at the University Student Council, Nerve said. “During the campaign period, many candidates would ask her to massage their backs. Most of the time, she would end up giving in to all of the requests. Each time, she would ask them, ‘Who will massage me then?’”

Sherlyn, with her STAND-UP comrades, was active in various campaigns inside the university. She was among those who were vocal against the budget cut in UP, the commercialization of education, tuition and laboratory fee increases. She also took part in the protest actions against oil-price hikes, corruption and other issues against the Estrada administration.

Nerve said Sherlyn was a good organizer. She was able to recruit many of her sorority sisters and college mates. “She was disciplined and hardworking. She was always agitated and did not easily get tired when it came to her political tasks,” Nerve said.

Being at the student council provided Sherlyn the opportunity to confront many social issues. Sherlyn led various forms of protests, Nerve said. She always encouraged other activists to integrate with the striking workers or with the peasants picketing at the Department of Agrarian Reform.

“She was one of the most active activists I know,” Nerve said.

In fact, it was while on an immersion with the picketing workers of SM North Edsa in 1999 that Sherlyn had her first taste of state repression. While the police was violently dispersing the picket, one of them took hold of Sherlyn and nearly strangled her.

“I think the SM strike immersion consolidated her as a student activist, to be more involved with the basic masses,” Nerve said.

That experience, as well as the ones before it at the university, had a profound impact on Sherlyn. Soon, she found herself among peasants in Bulacan, immersing with them in their poverty.

Fates Intertwined

In a perfect world, the fate of Karen and Sherlyn never would have intertwined. But it did.

The two women did not know each other at the university. Sherlyn, who was 29 when abducted, had gotten out of UP ahead of Karen, who was 23. Although it is not yet clear when and how exactly did the two women meet, it is apparent that they were brought together to the depressed communities of Bulacan by their desire to change society.

Connie said Karen always talked to her about one day helping to end poverty. “I often heard her say that people should have equal rights, but our situation is getting worse,” she said.

Linda, meanwhile, told Bulatlat that she could not understand at first why Sherlyn would “prioritize other people over her family.” But today, the mother had no bitterness at all toward the daughter. “I am proud of her. I realized that she knew that we can survive but not the poor people in the villages,” she said. “I admire her for that.”

The gruesome details of what had happened to their daughters have not weakened the spirit of the Cadapan and Empeño families, although Asher, Sherlyn’s father, is still distraught. He could hardly control his tears when he recalled his last conversation with Sherlyn. “She told me that she would go home to celebrate her mother’s birthday,” he said.

But, Linda said, “We will not stop searching. We go to military camps, use the legal process. We will not stop searching.”

“I can feel that she is still alive,” Connie said of Karen. She said she still yearns for her girl’s homecoming. At night, before going to sleep, she would “talk” to Karen. “Wherever you are, whatever your situation right now is, we have not forgotten you,” the mother said. “We love you.”

A photograph of Karen serves as a screensaver on Connie’s mobile phone. The ring tone is a song about a young activist bidding her parents farewell, promising to them that she would be a good “anak ng bayan” (“child of the people”). (Bulatlat.com)