ACCOUNT OF A
TORTURE
The following is the
English translation of an account written in Filipino by Honorio Ayroso, a
student leader from Nueva Ecija. He was abducted in March 1989 in
Mandaluyong along with nine other activists by elements of the ISAFP and
Capcom. Honor and his companions were surfaced a week later after
undergoing interrogation and torture, and were tagged as “communist
cadres”. They were charged with illegal possession of firearms and
subversion, but were acquitted and released in March 1990, a year after
their abduction.
On February 9, 2002,
Honor, then 34 years old, was again abducted, along with Bayan Muna Nueva
Ecija coordinator Johnny Orcino, 44, in Sto. Nino 1st, San Jose City,
Nueva Ecija. The abductors were suspected military men, yet the military
and police denied having any knowledge of the crime, nor did they conduct
a thorough investigation. The two men are still missing.
As soon as I had knocked on the door,
I felt a barrel of a .45 calibre pointed at my head. I couldn’t do
anything. I was forced inside the house and I saw two comrades tied up
and lying on their stomachs. They made me lie down on my stomach and
tied my hands at my back. They blindfolded me, took my wallet, my bag
which was full of documents, my wristwatch. Then they forced us inside a
vehicle and brought us to who knows where. It was there that I felt the
savageness of the enemy, their inhumane treatment to comrades who fell
into their hands.
At first there was no body contact.
There were four of us side by side a long bench. Because we were able to
support each other in answering their questions, they interrogated us
separately. I was taken to an air-conditioned room which I think was a
conference hall. I couldn’t see a thing because of my blindfold. They
sat me on a chair then proceeded with the interrogation. They asked the
same questions over and over. I think they asked about my real name 30
times, even though they already have my school IDs, my voter’s ID and my
ID in my former employment. Where do I live, where did I study, my
parents, my reason for coming there, the contents of the documents, and
the plans, about the other comrades they’ve captured.... and other
questions. When they couldn’t squeeze any information from me using
threats, they began to use body contact. For every question to which I
answer “I don’t know” or “I know nothing about it” or “I don’t know him” –
I was given body blows. I couldn’t see who were hitting me because of my
blindfold. One of them apparently got irked at me and gave me karate
chops on the nape. At that time, I had wondered if I already got a broken
rib or a broken vein in the nape.
The enemy played tricks on me upon
learning I finished ROTC. They made me squat on a chair until only my
toes clung to the edge. I would intentionally make myself fall because it
was difficult to hang on. They made me squat on the cement floor and put
heavy books on my head and my stretched arms. I would drop the books on
purpose... during such torture, I used everything I know about acting,
because they only make it more difficult if they know you can stand it.
But my acting was useless when they
used watercure and electrocution. If I remember right, I went though
seven sessions of water pouring through my nose. They untied my hands at
my back, only to handcuff me in front. They made me lie down a table,
with my head hanging down a sink. Four burly men held me down. Two held
my feet, one held my hands, and another pressed my mouth. They gagged my
mouth with a rag, then slowly poured water through my nose. I felt i was
drowning. I couldn’t breath. My head ached as if it was being axed. All
the mucous came out. During such times, one would be able to throw every
last strength left, and so I was able to struggle free from the four men
holding me down.
After every session, they question
me. When I don’t give the answers, they repeat the torture. To make me
stop struggling, they rammed my head on the table which caused a
concussion. They recessed the torture because I was getting too weak.
They made me rest for an hour and left me with one guard. Various
scenarios and events came flashing through my mind. I remembered my
childhood, my parents, my growing up years, entering high school, college,
my recruitment to the movement, my friends, relatives, and my present
condition in the hands of the enemy.
After an hour, my interrogators
returned. They transferred me to a different spot and removed my shoes
and socks. They poured water at my feet and the cement floor. They
placed an electric cord at my hands. As the voltage went through my
body, I felt worse than a fish being electrocuted. Was I petrified.
Then they pointed the electric cord at my feet. I was shouting and
cursing at all of them. But they were worse than sadists and
blood-thirsty killers. They repeated it three times which almost made me
pass out. To think that I even had the advantage because I had a
background on electricity in my electronics course. I tensed up all my
muscles so it won’t hurt so much. I was already weak as a vegetable so
they made me rest again.
Around 10 pm, I was feeling very weak
so I asked to be given food. What was important to me was to regain my
strength so I would still have presence of mind. It was then that I felt
how a blindman eat. With my one hand tied, and blindfolded, I groped
through my meal. After eating, the torture began again. They repeated
everything they have already done on me. Still, they got no information
from me.
Around three am, the enemies made me
rest. They made me lie on a folding bed, still in handcuffs, and
blindfold. They turned an electric fan on me, which made me shiver
because my clothes were all wet, a result of my struggling through the
watercure. One military man approached me and said: “Sorry, kid, you
don’t want to cooperate so we’ll just salvage you.” Because of that, I
have prepared myself to die anytime then.
By morning, one military man brought
me outside and told me to run although I was still handcuffed and
blindfolded. I didn’t run because I knew it was too risky and I
shouldn’t. They made me kneel down and pointed a gun to my head and
cocked it. “What’s your last wish?” the enemy asked. I told them to
inform my parents that I’m dead. In my head, I just thought “Good-bye,
Philippines” and waited for the gunfire. One of them told the one holding
the gun: “Just kill him later, we still haven’t extracted any
information.” They brought me back to the room for further
interrogation. After that, there wasn’t as much torture.
They made me rest then by afternoon,
they brought me to a vehicle along with the others who were captured,
inside a closed vehicle. They brought us to Bicutan. They took our
pictures, our fingerprints, and locked us up inside a bartolina. There
were four of us in one bartolina, while the others were in other
bartolinas. We were still handcuffed inside the bartolina which was
only 2x3x2. We were cramped like sardines. The next night, they
presented us to the media. We were heartened because it meant we were not
going to be killed.
Bulatlat
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