Danas at Katwiran

Alican M. Pandapatan

Siya ang Ilaw at Haligi

Dulot ng walang katiyakan
ng pag-ibig at pananagutan
mag-isa lamang siya-
kumakayod, nag-aalaga
at naghahanapbuhay.

Pinupunan niya ang
kumakalam na sikmura,
pinupunan niya ang nagkulang
atensyon at pagmamahal
ng mga inosenteng batang
iginagapang ng ‘sang magulang.

Solong magulang, di umaayaw.
Tingin ng karamihan mababaw
mga pinagdaraanang hirap,
kutya’t panghahamak.
Siya ri’y nawawasak.

Inaayos ang sariling basag
para sa pagpapanatag
at sariling pagpapatatag
ng kalooba’y di maduwag
at ang pamilya’y di mabuwag.

Siya ang haligi at
siya rin ang ilaw
ng tahanang kanyang
pinatitibay– nagliliwanag
sa madilim na bukas
ng kanyang mga anak.

Karimlan sa liwanag

Siya ang bukal.
Hulmahan ng isipan at diwa,
pandayan ng kasanaya’t asal.

Patuloy na kinakapos
ng mga gahamang said
kaya naman baya’y ‘di makaraos
hindi makausad.

Ika nga, edukasyon ang sagot
Bakit ito’y nilalagot?
Salaping badyet na kakarampot
mismong namamahala ang kumupit.

Liwanag bang maitururing
ang tahanang hasaan ng dunong?
Kung imprastruktura’t pasilidad
ay gawa sa mababang kalidad.

Kung ang mga sandigang aklat
di napapanaho’t salat
paano nito pamumukadkarin
ang tigang na kaisipan?

Lumulubo ang bilang ng mga bata
nag-aabang ng aruga’t kalinga
sa mga pampublikong paaralan
nagbabasakali’t nagsasapalaran

kung bukas ay mababago
ang buhay ay uunlad-lalago.
Kapag ito’y hindi nagbago
ang baya’y mananatiling bigo.

Kinikitil ng dilim ang liwanag
ang balon ng pag-asa
na patuloy na nililigalig
ngunit siya’y kumakasa

Siya ang bukal.
Hulmahan ng isipan at diwa,
pandayan ng kasanaya’t asal.

Ani

Nagbabanat kami ng buto
ng baya’y patuloy nakatayo
signipikanteng bumubuo
manggagawang nakataas-noo.

Maliit man ang kinikita,
minsan ay wala ng nakikita
sa pinaghirapang ginawa
binabaling sa sarili’y awa.

Ah, tagaktak ang aming pawis
sa pagsasaka ng sobra’t labis
matamasa ang ninanais
bunga at ani handog ay tamis.

Kami nama’y pumapalaot
kahit madilim di natatakot
upang makakuha’t maghakot
ng preskong isdang maalat-alat.

Dini, ang buhay sa tubuhan
sentimong pakyaw-bayad sa amin
kulang pa sa’ming kailangan
didildil na lang kami ng asin.

Tinapon namin ang mga gulay
Nakakalungkot ang naging lagay
di pwedeng itambak sa bahay
‘pagkat nabubulok itong bagay.

Bakit laging may kakulangan?
Suliraning walang katapusan.
Lumalala ang kakapusan
sustenabilidad’y kasagutan.
Mayaman ang bansa sa ani
Kulang ng programa siyang sanhi
nitong ekonomiyang sawi
kaya suporta ay minimithi.

Pamahalaan

Palasak ang kaliwa’t kanang balita
Ang gobyerno ngayon anti-maralita
Masang nagdarahop at nababahala
Ang bansa ay hindi na pinagpapala
Habang ang ilan ay nagpapakasasa
Ang karamihan tunay na nagdurusa
Laan kanino ang serbisyo’t sagana?
Ang elitistang mayaman sa pamana?
Ako’t tayong lahat ay isang sistema
Nahahabi isang baya’t magkasama.

Digmaan

Kinirot ang damdaming payak
nadudurog sa nagkalat na larawan
mga batang Palestino
nagmistulang mga surot na tiniris

Oh, Mahabagin! Saan ka na?
inuubos ng galit ang aming pag-asa
maisalbang mga anghel sa lupa,
ito ba ay nakatadhana na?

Idinadaing ang pagtigil
sa karumal-dumal na pagpaslang
kwalateral sa labanan
di masinop, di maarok ng budhi
marahil di tao ang makagagawa.

Kayo! Saan na nga ba ang humanidad?
abang kapwa tao pinapanood
tila isang likhang pelikula
lamang ang tambak na katawang
walang buhay ni hininga.

Hanggang ang ilog patungong dagat
hindi nagaganap, hindi nababatid
kalayaan at kapayapaan ay
malayo at hindi kayang taluntunin
ng tanaw.

Habang umuulan ng bala’t bomba,
ilang anghel pa kaya ang masasawi?

A Mother’s Time

Aisha L. Kunting

A glance at the clock as I notice the time,
how late it is on a Friday and yet she is still at the office at 11:59?
No doubt finishing a never-ending workload that is anything but light,
‘Has she eaten dinner yet?’ I wonder again as the clock strikes midnight.
A knock on the door— only one person it could be.
“Assalamualaikum,” she greets sweetly as soon as she sees me,
but it’s impossible not to notice the tired and bloodshot eyes.
Regardless, she smiles— which I’ve come to know as one of her forms of disguise.
So exhausted she doesn’t bother to change out of her work clothes.
She lays on the couch, surely tired from the workload.
But despite the million other things occupying her brilliant mind,
She asks, “How was your day, anak?”
Only I prayed yours was as happy as mine.
Mothers deserve the world and more for all the things they have to endure.
Despite their flaws and imperfections, a mother’s love remains pure.
See, mothers don’t work this hard just to earn money and spend it on themselves.
They don’t stay up at night burning the oil just to afford expensive hotels.
Don’t wake up early and cook for the family because they are forced or compelled—
these amazing mothers sacrifice their time to keep their families fed and well.
Working hard for the trials of today despite the uncertainty of tomorrow.
Bearing the aches that come with life to spare her family from sorrows.
There is no way to properly describe all her pains,
and no words will be big enough to even begin my thanks.
A mother’s time is precious— precious as a diamond in a bed of sand.
I would give up all my fleeting time just to hold her motherly hands.

 

Tarasul

Nelson Dino, original teext and translation

Higung Dagang 

Daing ha daplak Bongao, tulak liyayag,
Pa kapuan Sandakan, usaha tagak
Ha lansa miyagad, dagat bilu siyabulak
Layag tagna sintak, simung agak-agak.

Silak suga timapil, ha alun limahil
Waktu simibug mandil, paluang in biyangkil
Laud bahaya iyuntas, liyukisan labay bansil
Subuh na iyabutan, alta magad himasil.

Pamapa subangan, sutla in hinangan
Ha parian Sandakan jinis niya diyagang
Ha kakayaan Bongao pa mussa, gusi kalang
In luwan darahan, tugub suysuy bilang
Duwal waktu in makaiyan.

Uh, kaw higung dagang, ha hangin simampang-
Parsugpatan wayi bugtu, umantas dagat larang
Ha Bongao pa Sandakan suysuy kamaasan
Ha sulatan salasila yaun saun kiyakissa.

Labay huakag-hanung, asal masi matunung
Ha saka dagang bilang, dapat di masulak laung
Ha Bongao pa Sandakan, tulak sampang liyangan,
Tumalik duun angan, tubuan sin dagangan.

Tempest Trade 

From Bongao’s shores, we set our sails,
To Sandakan’s distant isles, our trading trails
In wooden vessels, on the azure sea,
We journeyed forth, adventurous and free.

The sun kissed the waves in a rhythmic dance.
As we navigated, we took our chance.
Through perilous waters, we charted our way
Trading treasures at the break of day.

Spices from the east and textiles made of silk
In Sandakan’s markets, we traded our ilk.
From Bongao’s bounty to pearls and rare shells,
our cargo held stories that only time can tell.

Oh, the whispers of trade in the ocean’s breeze—a
timeless connection across the seas.
From Bongao to Sandakan, a tale of old,
In the annals of history, our story’s told.

Through tempests and calm, we’d always persist. In
this ancient trade, we could not resist.
From Bongao to Sandakan, our journeys would
show the beauty of trading, where dreams could
grow.


Bud Bongao Barakatan

Ha puntuk bud sussi aku timindug,
Sulad panugpat hipu alamat sin lupa punud,
Lumawag kasambuhan tawag sin kamaasan,
Magdayaw siratulrahim, sugpat pa katan.

Titib in labayan ha tikanganku,
Ulangig makusug bati liyabayan waktu,
Halaum hagas hangin, kulanas dahun,
Hikmah sin adat hanunut himablun.

Ha babaan langit wayi jangkaan,
Aku naglawag kusug miyaksud sin liuran,
Iban panghulmat, simulad pa puntuk sussi
Balikan in parsugpatan, magtibuuk magkasi.

Hangin dupuy malanu, napas hiyangbus,
Parasahan niyanam hiyabulan sin alam,
Isa-isa hi baran, matarrang in jawaban,
Adat pasambuhun, luha igan kahinyul.

Kamulliya sin puntuk Bongao, sahaya mahinaat,
Dunya biyukisan, batuk in kasabbulan,
Hiyablunan kissa, nagsulabit mattan,
Ha tiranan sussi rahmat kiyasambanan.

Bihaun nakauna, bannang adat mari biyutuk,
Sulad magpasambuh, sussi in sapa gutuk,
Ha Bud Bongao barakatan ini aku natibuuk,
Sugpatan atay ginhawa, amu miyaksud.

In tiyap tikangku, magparayaw butuk,
Ha antara sin nyawa iban langit angut,
Ha puntuk bud sussi, rahmat naabut,
Pali adat piyauli, tampat sussi in labut.

Sacred Bongao Peak

On the sacred mountain’s lofty crest, I stand,
A journey steeped in mystic ties to land,
A healing quest, my spirit’s ancient call,
To mend the bonds that link us, one and all.

The path is steep, and with every step I take,
I feel the echoes of the past awake.
In whispers of the wind and rustling leaves,
The wisdom of our culture softly weaves.

Beneath the canopy of an endless sky,
I seek the strength our ancestors imply.
With reverence, I climb this sacred peak.
To mend the ties and gain unity, we seek.

The air is pure, and with every breath I breathe,
I sense the power of nature’s gentle sheath.
In solitude, I find the answers clear.
To heal our culture, wipe away the tears.

The Bongao peak’s glory in the morning light,
Reveals a world where ancient meets the right.
A weave of stories, interlaced,
In this sacred space, I find my grace.

I tie my culture’s threads, both past and now,
A healing journey, an ancient sacred vow,
On this majestic mountain, I am made whole.
Reconnecting the heart and soul, a healing goal.

With every step I take, I mend the ties,
Between my spirit and the ancient skies,
On the sacred Bongao Peak, I find my grace,
Healing culture’s wounds in this sacred space.


Beyang

Ha kawman higad dagat, namilu-milu
Awun Beyang magsuruy, atay maamu
Magsasab marayaw, tawag bi na kamu
Magdagang daya laud, kaku iban kaniyu.

Sin parat suga pais niya diyapuan,
Uyum mamanis bayhu sahaya puan,
Mimindit ambung ista luunan,
Gimigiik buhangin ha tiranan bulawan.

Mata sumuysuy kissa sin laud, malaum-laum,
Sin pagtulak tungud pa alun, limaya talun,
Sambil ha daplakan ista giyulung,
Ha kissa sin laud, siya nangayu tulung.

Daing ha lumahan pilak pa ullang asibi,
Makuyag aku, kitaniyu siya nagbakti,
Kawman kimalang ha tikang niya nagbukti,
Pagkita sin pipindit hi Beyang taukasi.

Pagka suga timugum, hinang salassay,
Tikang ha paratan, mahapun muwi pa bay,
Hi Beyang aturun, dungdungan silay,
In kissa niya iban ista, tuyu kita’ salay.

Jari ha kawman ini laud magkalang,
Limbay hi Beyang limangsa, masang
Imanyan ambung sin laud iban ginlupaan,
Sin lima malasahun, ha padlima kubalan.

A Bajau Lady

In a village by the sea so blue,
A Bajau lady, her heart so true,
She roams with grace, a fishmonger’s call,
Selling treasures from the ocean, for me and you.

Her skin kissed by the sun’s warm embrace,
A smile that lights up her weathered face,
With woven baskets of fish in hand,
She treads the sands of the golden strand.

Her eyes tell stories of the deep, deep sea.
Of adventures, of waves wild and free,
With every fish she lays on the shore,
A tale of the ocean, she does implore.

From mackerel silver to shrimp so small,
Her offerings delight one and all,
The village hums with her lively stride,
As the Bajau lady’s wares are eyed.

With the setting sun, her work is done,
Homeward bound, under the evening sun,
The Bajau lady, a sight to behold,
In her stories and fish, her spirit unfolds.

So, in this village where the ocean sings,
A Bajau lady with her gossamer wings,
She weaves a basket of sea and land,
In the palm of her weathered, loving hand.

Mayto, Mala (Small, Big)

Amirol A. Mohammad

Sumabog ang isang transformer na gumising sa akin habang nahihimbing ako sa pagtulog. Malakas pa naman ang ulan ngayon at ang sarap pang itulog ang buong araw na ito.

Kailangan na ngang gumising at nag-iingay na ang mga busina ng mga magagarang sasakyan. Ang iba naman ay naka-payong para hindi mabasa sa malakas na buhos ng ulan.

Maliligo na nga at mahuhuli na sa klase, magagalit na naman sa akin sina Maam at Sir pag liliban ako. Mag aalmusal na din at naghanda na si Ina ng paborito kong sunny side up.

May bagong gatas palang binili sa akin si Ina. Pinagluto niya pa akong “sindag”. May pa-hotdog pa nga eh. Pero mas paborito ko parin ang dabest “palapa” niya.

Pakagan ingka man kuman, khalate ka d’n, ilayangka man so oras.”

Nako, sinermonan na naman ako ni Ina, araw-araw na lang ito. Pero syempre nasanay narin ako, eh mahal ko yan eh.

Anda ka sung orak?” tanong ni Kuyang Driver sa akin na may nginunguya pang pulang kendi, tapos bigla niyang idudura. Ewan ko ba anong kendi yun, hindi naman nabibili sa tindahan yun.

“Sa eskwelaan kaka,” sagot ko naman sa kanya habang nakatitig sa nginunguya niya. At umalis na nga kami, hinatid niya ako sa school ko. Nandon yung mga kaibigan ko hinihintay ako sa may gate.

Tuna p’man e plano?” tanong ko agad sa mga kaibigan ko. Alam ko magyayaya na naman ito ng iskapo. Pero hindi ako pumayag kasi mapapagalitan ako ni Maam at Sir.

“Nako, late ka naman orak, saan ka na naman nagpupunta?” Ito yung bumungad sa akin sa classroom. Ang gulo kasi nitong mga kaibigan ko eh. Kinukulit akong mag iskapo.

At buong araw na nga akong nasa paaralan para mag aral. Sinundo pa ako ni Ina noong pauwi na ako. Sabi pa nga niya, “Tunaaya orak? Kyaburing ginan a susuluten ngka.” Sabay hawak sa aking kamay. Tumawid at umuwi kaming sabay.

Pangunab ka na gu ka sambi sa bangala,” sabi sa akin ni Ina. Pero hindi niya ako natiis kaya pinaliguan niya ako at binihisan.

Gabi na noon, habang naglalaro ako sa may tablet na binili ni Ina sa akin noong birthday ko. Biglang tinawag ako ni Ina, nagmamadali at natatakot.

Pakaganing ka san kuman, sung ta pn sa ingud, sa ki bapa aka.”

Ngaynoto ina?” tanong ko sa kanya. Sinagot niya lang ako ng “basta pakaganing ka san badn” habang naiiyak na siya at nanginginig sa takot.

Nag-iimpake siya ng mga gamit, isinara niya lahat ng mga bintana at pinto. Bigla siyang napaupo at binukas ang kanyang mga palad. Nagdasal habang umiiyak siya.

Wasaya dn ka lumyo tano,” sabi niya noong matapos agad ako sa aking kinakain. Hinawakan niya ako sa kamay at sabay kaming lumabas ng bahay. Naiwan ko ang tablet ko, babalikan ko sana pero hahayaan nalang daw sabi ni Ina.

Paglabas namin ng pinto ng bahay, nabigla ako at nakasara na ang mga bahay ng aming mga kapitbahay. Nakapatay ang mga ilaw at wala akong marinig na mga ingay.

Pagda kano, pakagani niyo,” sigaw ng isang driver ng kotse sa aming dalawa ni Ina. Tumakbo kami agad ni Ina papuntang kotse. May dalawang mag-inang tumakbo din at sumakay agad.

Umiiyak na si Ina habang hawak hawak niya ako. Hindi ko maintindihan kung ano ang nangyayari. Noong dumating kami sa sasakyan nagmakaawa si Ina. At isinakay ako bigla, ipinatong sa isang babaeng nakaupo.

Hinalikan ako ni Ina sa noo, niyakap, at hinagkan ako habang umiiyak siya. “Tumunog ako bu ow, pyapya ka ruu taman sa dako ro pn,” habilin pa niya. Biglang umalis ang sasakyan nang hindi nakasakay si Ina.

Ina akn!” Sumigaw ako ng malakas. Bigla akong naiyak. May nakita akong mga flag na itinataas ng mga hindi ko makilalang mga tao.

At biglang may malakas na sumabog sa aming likuran. Nakita kong tumakbo si Ina paalis sa kinatatayuan niya. Natakot ako, umiyak ako. “Ina!” sigaw ko sa loob ng sasakyan, habang umiiyak lahat ng nasa loob ng sasakyan.

Nagsunod sunod ang mga malalakas na pagsabog. Nagsisigawan ang mga tao. Nagkakagulo at nagtatakbuhan sa takot ang bawat isa.

At hindi ko aakalaing iyon ang huling halik at yakap ni Ina sa akin. Hindi ko inasahan na iyon ang huling araw na masisilayan ko siya.

At sumabog ulit ng malakas.

Anim na taon na rin pala ang nakalipas. Nagising ako mula sa mahimbing na pagkatulog. At ginigising ako ng kaibigan ko. Ang sarap pa namang itulog ang araw na ito.

Kailangan na ngang gumising at nag iingay na ang mga busina ng mga magagarang sasakyan. Ang iba naman ay nakapayong para hindi mabasa sa malakas na buhos ng ulan.

Pagnaw ka san dn, sisaya dn so kikir’k sa tinda, ph’l’l’ka siran dn,” sabi ng kaibigan kong ginigising ako. Tumakbo agad kami ng mabilis papunta sa kabilang kanto.

Ru ka sa sabala kanto ow, mamagilaya tano saya bu maalib’t tano aya,” sabi ko sa kaibigan ko.

Ang unang kinita kong sampung piso pinambili ko agad ng juice na tig-lilima ang baso at isang kalahati ng kwek-kwek na pupunuin ko lang ng sawsawan para mabusog ako.

Lalapit agad ako sa isang ate at isang kuya. Bubuksan ko ang aking mga palad at baka may iaabot sila. Kahit piso lang yan, makakabuo ako ng pera diyan.

Tatabi ako minsan sa mga kumakain at baka bibigyan ako ng makakain. Kahit tira-tira yan, papatusin ko yan. Kesa naman sa magutom.

Minsan hindi mamimigay, papaalisin ako, at pandidirian. Nasanay na rin ako. Minsan aapakan po ang paa ko, at itutulak palayo. Nasanay na rin ako.

Sino ba namang hindi mandidiri sa isang batang lansangan na natutulog sa kalye, minsan sa harap ng tindahan pag sinwerte na walang magbabantay, para lang makasilong.

Sinong hindi tutulak sa batang lansangan na ‘di kayang magbihis, makakaligo lang pag uulan, papatuyuin ulit ang damit at susuotin kahit basa pa.

Sinong hindi magpapaalis sa batang lansangan na mangangalabit, manghihingi, at manunuyo. Nasanay na rin ako.

Nasanay na rin akong makita ang ibang batang pumapasok sa paaralan at inihahatid ng mga magulang. Natatawa nalang ako.

Nasanay na rin akong magutom sa buong araw, makakain pag may nagbigay ng kalahati ng burger o kaya’y mga piso na hindi na kailangan.

Nasanay na rin ako na sa araw araw na buhay ko kailangan kong maging matatag, kailangang lumaban, kailangang mabuhay mag isa.

Nasanay na rin akong sambitin sa araw araw ang mga salitang bibigkasin pag manghihingi ka ng piso.

Mayto, Mala” na minsan ay ginagawa pang biro ng mga swerteng mga bata na ‘di pinagkaitan ng mundo.

“Mayto, Mala”. Minsan ito, minsan wala.

 

 

 

Tabang (Help)

Jannah Reeham M. Macaumbos

The smell of death permeated the small dimly lighted room. Two elderly women sat still and quietly near the large bed. Their eyes were swollen, ringed with dark circles. Laid on the bed was a young woman covered in white. A group of men entered the room carrying a wooden casket on their shoulders. They placed it near the bed and worked carefully together to place the lifeless body inside.

Quiet whispers began to fill the house immediately after the men left the room in silence. People began to swarm at Babu Aina’s. Their relatives in distant places also arrived on that day and expressed their sincere condolences on the abrupt death of Babu Aina’s daughter – Amina.

Amina was the brightest girl in our town. An exceptionally smart and talented young woman with an innocent and angelic smile. However, one day, she lost all the colors in life and began to act like a madman. No one, not even a single soul, knew the reason behind her sudden change.

I remember that day when a scream echoed all throughout our neighborhood – a scream of torment coming from a frail body of a helpless young woman.

I was preparing my morning coffee that day when I suddenly heard a faint voice coming from Babu Aina’s house. Strange, I thought. I stood quietly for over a minute hoping to hear it once again.

Tabang! Ina, help me!” There it was again. I held my cup and hurriedly paced into our living room, trying to make sense on what I was hearing. The words were clear when I heard it once again. “Oh! I beg you, please help me. Tabangi ako niyo.”  Series of weeping sounds followed the chilling sound. I sat down near the window trying to listen intently to the muffled voices outside, hoping to grasp some details that would enlighten my curious mind of what transpires in our neighbor’s house.

I was flooded with questions when I heard a woman’s voice saying “Allahu Akbar! Poor child.” Her voice was masked with utter disbelief. “She totally lost it! Miyabethang so wata.” she added.

In a hushed tone, a man with hoarse voice said in incredulous manner “I saw her! They tied her wrists in the bedpost. There were bruises all over her body.” Resolute, he added “Jinn! A Jinn took over her body.”

As the chatters grew, a man’s voice erupted in midst of the small crowd caused an uproar “I told you! She is possessed by a Jinn.” I gasped upon hearing the news. “I agree. Have you seen the look in her eyes? She is definitely possessed. Astughfirullah!  It was red! It was bulging as if the blood was coming out of her eyes,” a man’s voice loudly responded, affirming the claim.

I shuddered upon hearing the words of the people outside. I felt a series of cold sensation slowly creeping inside my body and my hands began to freeze “Audhubillah. May Allah protect us against all forms of evil.” I whispered quietly as I awfully sought comfort and warmth from my morning coffee.

“Ahhhhh, NO! Don’t touch me! Ina! Help! Help me, please!” I jerked upon hearing the deafening scream. I tried desperately to balance the cup I was holding in my hand to avoid spilling the coffee. I managed to place the cup on the table when the sound of a slamming door caused me to jump to my feet. My heart was racing uncontrollably. I look at the direction where the sound came from. I tried to calm my nerves when I saw my mother walking inside the kitchen.

“Oh! There you are. I was looking for you.” she said as she tried to catch her breath. “Where were you? I went to your room, and you were not there.” Her face was filled with worry as she marched towards me. “I was calling you and you did not even respo – ”

Aydo! Tabangi ako niyo. Help me!” a loud scream resonated within the walls of our home.

I looked at my mother and muttered in almost inaudible voice, “Omie, something is happening at Babu Aina’s.” She replied with the same pitch and horrified look that mirrors mine. “Astughfirullah! Audhubillah!  Their daughter is said to have been possessed by a powerful Jinn. Miyakasapher so wata sa marata.”

“You mean Amina?” My mother nodded in response to my query. “Audhubillah. Are you sure? She was fine when I last saw her with Aisha,” I added as I was clearly in doubt of the news I heard.

“There are things that reason alone cannot explain.” My mother replied as she placed her hand to mine. “Be careful, there are people out there that will do anything, even resort on doing something so evil just to ruin you.” Deep inside, I know exactly what my mother was trying to tell me. Amina was nothing but a perfect daughter. It was inevitable that people grew envious of her beauty and character. That might have been the reason behind her dreadful predicament. Her good nature tempted an evil soul to perform vile ritual to let the Jinn own her body.

That day had passed, but not as quietly as it used to. I thought it would end after the countless visits of a pamomolong. But I was utterly wrong. Days have turned into weeks. Sooner, it turned into months. Babu Aina did not give up on her daughter. She did everything in her power just to fix her daughter. She prayed day after day and gave charities to those in need, hoping that a miracle will happen, and her daughter will return to her usual self.

Due to the recommendations of her relatives, she invited known local healers from different towns and paid hefty amount of money only to expel the powerful Jinn that was said to have possessed Amina. However, not even one of them were able to explain the peculiar ordeal befallen in our small, secluded street.

One day, as I silently walked out from our house to catch a ride to school, I passed by a group of old folks, including Babu Halima, in front of Babu Zainab’s store. I heard them talking about Babu Aina’s daughter.

“Ehh she had it coming,” said nonchalantly by the old man. He was sitting on the wooden bench with his legs crossed and a cigarette in his hand.

“What makes say so?” asked Babu Halima.

“Have you seen how she present herself? Astughfirullah,” Babu Zainab replied.

“Yes! Oh God! Her dress was not appropriate at all,” said by the woman who stood next to Babu Halima. “She even laughs so loud. With men, if I may add.”

“With men?!” Babu Halima exclaimed. Clearly taken aback from what she had heard.

“Yes. She laughs as if those strange guys were her mahram,” replied by the woman with incriminating tone as she continued to say, “She doesn’t have any modesty left at all.”

Sii rekaniyan bo tiyaman o Allah.”  Babu Halima muttered.

“I warn you, Halima. You better talk to your daughter. That girl is her friend after all.”

Astughfirullah! God forbid! Such hysterics have no place in our house.”

I didn’t pay much attention in their conversation. I continued my way to class as I was running late. My day went as usual. I saw Aisha, Babu Halima’s daughter, sitting weirdly and out of place at the student’s lounge. She looked lost and pale like a ghost. I sat near her.

“Hey, are you okay?” I looked at her worriedly. She lost weight excessively. Her cheeks were sunken, and her eyes were lost in complete oblivion.

I stood from my seat and decided to leave. Clearly, she needs her time alone to cope with what was happening in our neighborhood, especially to her friend, I thought. I left her alone and went straight home. I never would have expected what will happen a week after our encounter.

There was a huge commotion outside our home. Our neighbors were screaming for help and frantically saying that Aisha attempted to end her life. Fortunately, she survived.

It was difficult for our entire town to understand what was running in the minds of these two girls. The madness that corrupted their souls. Most people from our town were claiming that something evil was behind this string of tragic events, and that someone was trying to harm these poor souls.

Naturally, due to the recent occurrences concerning Aisha, her mother decided that for the time being, she will drop out at school. Since then, I never heard from her again… not until the death of Amina.

Babu Halima went to the diaga of Amina along with Aisha. I felt relieved upon seeing her despite the traces of loneliness that were evident in her eyes. She was sitting alone on the chair placed at the corner of the room trying to avoid any attention. I went to her to ask if she was doing well.

“Hey, Aisha. Is everything okay?” She was reluctant at first to answer. She tried to dodge my peering look but later sighed in resignation and replied, “Alhamdulillah. I’m okay.” I didn’t pry any further, afraid that she might feel uncomfortable. We sat quietly beside each other.

“You know, Amina was hearing voices… voices that she can’t explain.” I was puzzled by her words.

“She tried to fight it. Believe me, she tried so hard to fight it – to silence those voices in her head.”

“What do you mean?” I asked her curiously.

“Amina, that poor girl, was having episodes.” She looked at the distance trying to hold the tears that was about to fall from her eyes.

I tried to make sense of her words and asked, “What episodes are you talking about?”

“Schizophrenia!” She said trying to catch her breath.

“In her mind, voices murder her repeatedly, hunting her even in her sleep.” She cried.

“No one listened to her plea. For God’s sake! She was begging for help!” She said loudly as she stood from her seat. She looked at me with sadness in the depths of her eyes. Her voice began to crack.

“She screamed for help” she continued to say. “She was screaming for help… from her mother! From anyone… from me.” She was panting uncontrollably as she slowly lowered her gaze.

“Now, she is lying there, in her grave, because no one even dared to listen to her.” She was in tears. “I – ” she uttered with conviction and longingness “ – didn’t listen to her.”

Under the dark and gloomy clouds… it was quiet.

The screams of agony and madness were slowly forgotten, buried along with the memory of the girl with brightest smile. The whispers were finally silenced as I sat still, listening to the quiet sound of the girl who mourns the passing of her only friend.