War on Drugs, The Unheard Voices | ABS-CBN News

'They didn't give my husband chance to air his side'

COMING home from work one day in July 2016 in Southville Niugan in Cabuyao City, Laguna, she was met by her son who anxiously told her: Mama, si Papa sumakay ng kotse.

It would not have worried her except that several hours had passed and her husband Ricardo had not come home. In an earlier text to his brother, Ricardo said he left for a while to accompany someone for an errand.

She looked around for her husband all night until dawn. With her brother-in-law, she went to police stations and funeral homes but no one had seen her 42-year-old husband.

She returned home to attend to their five children.

Later in the afternoon, her brother-in-law received a text from a funeral service in Cabuyao: A man was found dead in a nearby barangay and the body had been brought to another funeral home in Calamba.

It was Ricardo, the most tragic news she ever heard in her life. Her husband is dead. He was slain.

Until now, Gina does not know what really happened to Ricardo. Who killed him--and why?

Some people said they saw an unmarked grey sedan pick up Ricardo from their house. There were two men in the car. One of them was a known police asset nicknamed Elvis.

Another witness told her Ricardo was seen running along the docks before he was shot dead by policemen no less.

Later in the afternoon, her brother-in-law received a text from a funeral service in Cabuyao: A man was found dead in a nearby barangay and the body had been brought to another funeral home in Calamba.

The funeral issued a death certificate showing Ricardo suffered gunshot wounds on his trunk. But he also had wounds in his right thigh, upper abdomen, chest, and nape, his brother said.

A police report later showed the police tried to arrest Ricardo in a buy-bust operation, but he resisted arrest, forcing the police to shoot him. He died at once.

According to a barangay official, Ricardo had been involved in drugs. He had no permanent job.

His wife denied the allegations, saying he had tried his best to earn by taking jobs as a porter, laborer and construction worker. Too bad, Ricardo was no longer around to say his piece, she said. - Juni Gonzales, Rachel Cantuba, John de Lima

HE WAS last seen alive with a team of policemen one afternoon in July in front of his house in Lupang Arenda in Sta. Ana, Taytay, Rizal; his hands behind his back, apparently tied or in handcuffs. He died several hours later inside the house.

His family and neighbors said Rio Awa, or Dodong as he was fondly called, was involved in illegal drug activities and that he owned a gun to protect himself.

But must his life end this way? His sister Marianne asked, recalling how his 28-year-old brother lived and he died.

Marianne said Dodong, a father of a four-year-old boy, was a construction worker but he had to stop due to an operation. In deep predicament to make both ends meet, he sold prohibited drugs.

The day he died, he was at home, but in police custody, the sister said. Police accosted him and brought him back to his house.

Curious, the neighbors gathered around near his house. More men came, some in police uniform and some in civilian clothes. The law enforcers told all the neighbors to stay in their houses and away from harms way.

A few minutes later, the neighbors heard gunshots.

A police official reported later that Dodong was a suspected drug pusher. There was a drug buy-bust operation, and Dodong attempted to shoot the poseur buyer but he missed, the official said.

That was when the law enforcers fired back, killing him instantly.

"Paano yun nanlaban eh kitang kita namin dito nakaposas? a neighbor asked.

Dodongs wife is pregnant with their second child. Ana Maria Reyes, Jhoanna Ballaran

CHARLENE waited for her mother and stepfather Edgar who were coming to her place on Geronimo Street in Sampaloc, Manila for a visit one afternoon in July. He had promised her to set-up an internet shop she would name Piso Net to earn extra income for the family.

He showed up and while in Sampaloc, Edgar tried to fix his motorbike when two policemen approached him and asked why he was half naked. The two proceeded to search him but did not find any illegal drugs or weapons.

Not content, they brought Edgar to the Lacson Police Community Precinct.

Charlene and her mother followed Edgar to the precinct to speak with the arresting officers. She was surprised when she found out they wanted to slap him with possession of illegal drugs and a grenade.

The police told mother and daughter to go home and come back with food and clothes for him.

It was to be the last time they would see Edgar alive.

Said Charlene: Nandun siya sa ano sa upuan, nakita ko, nakaganyan, may posas siya.

They went back to the precinct and spoke with the police as to how much it would take for Edgar to get his freedom backthe amount ranged first from P120,000 and later, with the help of the barangay chairman, to P10,000. They did not allow them to see him.

Wala namang damit, wala namang may nakuha. Sabi kasi ang kaso niya daw kuno shabu atsaka granada. Ang ano daw doon P120,000 ang dapat piyansa doon, she said.

Sabi ko wala naman po kaming ganoong pera tapos isa pa, wala naman pong nakuha dyan na ganyan, shabu atsaka granada. Huling nakahubad lang naman, she added.

But the police refused to accept P10,000 only. And so, they went back home to look for more money and other things that they could sell to the pawnshop.

When they came back, they found a patrol car parked in front of the Ospital ng Tondo, just across the barangay hall. They turned red and fidgety.

Edgar was dead, they were told.

According to a police report, his stepfather was released from his handcuffs when he was granted permission to go to the bathroom. He reportedly grabbed the service gun of his police escort, causing a commotion, which prompted another police to shoot him. The report said the police found two sachets of shabu from him.

The barangay chairman said that Edgar was not among the drug users and pushers who surrendered during the implementation of the Opla Tokhang because he was not a resident of the barangay.

Charlene said his stepfather was a full-time barangay tanod in Sucat and that he was not involved in illegal drug activities. Juni Gonzales

ON THE NIGHT of June 14, Ronilo talked to his partner, Jenny about his plan on coming clean to the police with his involvement to illegal drugs.

Before leaving the house, Jenny checked Ronilos pockets because she was asking him for money to buy some food for their children. She got nothing.

The following day, Jenny heard the news that Ronilo was killed in a vacant lot just few blocks from their house in Barangay Biclatan, General Trias in Cavite. He suffered not less than 10 gunshots including one in the head, she was told.

A neighbor said Ronilo was last seen talking to some people in the same vacant lot where he was killed.

A police report said the General Trias City Anti-Illegal Drugs Special Operations Task Group had conducted a drug buy-bust operation targeting Ronilo. He was listed as top drug personality in General Trias City and was also previously arrested for drugs.

The police report said that Ronilo exchanged fire with the operatives and was thus fired upon. He was brought to a nearby hospital but was declared dead on arrival.

Jenny said that Ronilo was indeed arrested in 2015. He was released on bail after three months. Free as a bird, he continued his illegal activities, she said.

Noong nakita namin na may barka-barkada at ginagabi siya lagi, sabi ko baka nagddrugs ka na naman, iwasan mo. Maawa ka na lang sa amin ng anak mo kung ayaw mong magbago, she recalled telling him.

In December 2015, Jenny said she kicked him out of the house because she was worried about their safety since Ronilo wouldnt stop his illegal activities.

He had been invited to surrender at the barangay but he refused because he believed that the people in the barangay were also involved to illegal drugs.

Ronilo left behind six children aged 18, 17, 15, 11, 10, and five. Ana Maria Reyes

THEY suddenly barged into the house of Napoleon Miras Ay-Ay, shouting and ordering everyone to lie face down in Barangay Antipona in Bocaue, Bulacan.

Operatives of the Bocaue police and PDEA were looking for 27-year-old Napoleon, or Nono, a suspected seller of prohibited drugs. His house was one of the many shanties in the cavernous compound in the barangay.

Out of fear, Nonos 52-year-old mother Edeltruda, who was standing by the entrance, stepped out and into a neighbors house.

Nonos father Eustaquio, 60, told his son to surrender to the police. Nono instead ducked himself at a corner of the house by the river.

Nagtatago na siya diyan e, Eustaquio said. Sabi ko tara na kako anak, sumama ka na kako sa kanila. Edi nandito ako, inakay ko siya dito."

Eustaquio begged the police not to hurt Nono because he was only driving for the actual pusher, Eunice Zapra Ripia who had been arrested by the police.

Service lang siya talaga e, he said. Service lang siya sa tricycle. Inuupa siya noong babae na P300 kada biyahe.

The police saw Nono and brought him upstairs. Within a couple of minutes, they heard gunshots. When the police went down, they broke the news: Nono was dead.

"Sabi ko, Sir kako, ano na po nangyari sa kay Nono ko? Eustaquio asked. Nandoon eka, nanlaban e, patay na.

But the parents said that Nono didnt resist arrest.

Paano lalaban ang anak ko e dito pa lang e putlang putla na yung anak ko, Eustaquio said.

According to a report, police recovered one .38-caliber revolver and sachets containing shabu from the house.

Edeltruda said her son didnt have a gun. Wala po 'yon! Pinalabas lang may .38. Pagkain nga lang namin tingnan mo naman ang itsura, ito ba makakabili ng .38 ang anak ko? she said.

Edeltruda said it would have been better if Nono were just imprisoned.

Bakit kasi pinatay nila? Sana kinulong na lang,, madadalaw ko yung anak ko," she said.

Nonos death left the family devastated. Rizza Cervantes

DERNLY BATALAN, a 27-year-old part-time construction worker, had to call his engineer he couldnt report for work one morning in July. He was at home in Barangay Western Bicutan in Taguig City. He was not feeling well.

By the time he was ready for lunch, some Taguig police and barangay officers arrived to conduct Oplan Tokhang, catching Batalan and his family by surprise.

"Dapa, dapa, dapa! Pulis to!" Dernlys sister recalled hearing the operatives shouting. In no time, they were kicking Dernlys door.

It was clear: They were after him. Dernly had a previous brush with the law. Last year, he was released from a three-year detention for possession of marijuana.

The police ordered everybody in the neighborhood to close their doors and windows to keep them out of harms way. The suspect might fire at the operatives, the neighbors were told.

Standing next door watching, Dernlys sister said she heard her brother shouting for help: "Uncle, Uncle, tulungan nyo ako!"

But the police didnt listen to him, she said.

Di ba po pag sinabing tulong di naman nanlalaban yun e? Tsaka parang umiiyak si kuya noon. Alam nyo naman po yung boses ng umiiyak habang humihingi ng tulong, she said.

After three gunshots, she said she overheard the police talking about checking Dernlys eyes, probably to check if her brother was dead. He was. His body suffered two gunshot wounds: two in his trunk and another in the head.

[Tapos] parang may tinawagan silayun palapatay na pala.

A police report later said the operatives had recovered .45-caliber Colt MK IV, an empty magazine of caliber .45, empty shells of .45 and 9mm caliber, an improvised shotgun or sumpak loaded with 12 gauge live ammunition, and four sachets of suspected shabu.

Dernlys sister said the alleged pieces of evidence found were questionable. But she said her brother did make a sumpak.

Eto po ang mali dun: kaliwete po yung kuya ko, kanan po nila nilagay yung baril, she said.

After the killing, she said authorities simply walked away without a word, except to say he was on the police watch list of men allegedly involved in drugs.

But they were not shown of any document, she said. Not even a warrant.

Sa programang Oplan Tokhang ni Mayor Lani at ni Kapitan Supan Pinapasuko ang mga adik dito sa Taguig. Yun siguro hindi pinansin ni kuya. Pero hindi po doon mini-mention yung pangalan ni kuya. Hindi po!

Di po tama yung ginawa ng mga [pulis], she said. San po kayo nakakita ng nanlalaban pero humihingi ng tulong? she asked. Yssa Espaola

DERNLY BATALAN, a 27-year-old part-time construction worker, had to call his engineer he couldnt report for work one morning in July. He was at home in Barangay Western Bicutan in Taguig City. He was not feeling well.

By the time he was ready for lunch, some Taguig police and barangay officers arrived to conduct Oplan Tokhang, catching Batalan and his family by surprise.

"Dapa, dapa, dapa! Pulis to!" Dernlys sister recalled hearing the operatives shouting. In no time, they were kicking Dernlys door.

It was clear: They were after him. Dernly had a previous brush with the law. Last year, he was released from a three-year detention for possession of marijuana.

The police ordered everybody in the neighborhood to close their doors and windows to keep them out of harms way. The suspect might fire at the operatives, the neighbors were told.

Standing next door watching, Dernlys sister said she heard her brother shouting for help: "Uncle, Uncle, tulungan nyo ako!"

But the police didnt listen to him, she said.

Di ba po pag sinabing tulong di naman nanlalaban yun e? Tsaka parang umiiyak si kuya noon. Alam nyo naman po yung boses ng umiiyak habang humihingi ng tulong, she said.

After three gunshots, she said she overheard the police talking about checking Dernlys eyes, probably to check if her brother was dead. He was. His body suffered two gunshot wounds: two in his trunk and another in the head.

[Tapos] parang may tinawagan silayun palapatay na pala.

A police report later said the operatives had recovered .45-caliber Colt MK IV, an empty magazine of caliber .45, empty shells of .45 and 9mm caliber, an improvised shotgun or sumpak loaded with 12 gauge live ammunition, and four sachets of suspected shabu.

Dernlys sister said the alleged pieces of evidence found were questionable. But she said her brother did make a sumpak.

Eto po ang mali dun: kaliwete po yung kuya ko, kanan po nila nilagay yung baril, she said.

After the killing, she said authorities simply walked away without a word, except to say he was on the police watch list of men allegedly involved in drugs.

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War on Drugs, The Unheard Voices | ABS-CBN News