It was a lovely day. The morning fog was still visible on a soft petal of gumamela flowers. The sun is trying to rise timidly. The rooster is crowing. The smoke is blowing from the house kitchen. Ladies are busy tending their gardens. Men are sipping coffee in the courtyard table. It is a morning routine in a small town from where I came from. A peaceful day.
Father and daughter take the long walk towards the house of his aunt to see his visiting cousin from the city. And a chance for a free coffee too. For it was too early for school. It was a sight to behold, a loving father carrying his daughter school bag. A young lady looking up adoringly at his father, giggling at his jokes and, from time to time greeting the people. His intuitive on guard spirit was down maybe because he was with his daughter.
Father was the chief of police during that time. He wore his uniform and guns. The town folk respects him. People are grateful at his command of the town safekeeping. Because it was during this time that the New People’s Army or NPA are on the rampage killing people without perjury, Ambushing the military for the ammunition.
They came to a long bridge where houses were already far. It is where four uniformed students are sitting confidently. Father waved at them and greet them, then father and daughter continue walking. So engrossed in conversation that they fail to notice that the students are following them.
We were in the middle of the bridge when one of the students grab my father guns and told my father to surrender all his guns to them, my father shoved me towards the other end of the bridge. While the two students grab both of my father’s arms. My father tried everything he can. And he was winning. It was the fourth man than stab my father on his heart. But, he was strong, he kicked the fourth man, only then someone shot the pistol at his head. he stumbled and face down he fell then another shot was heard this time through his heart again. I was just sitting there staring at them. I wasn’t able to shout, to cry for help. I was shocked (only nine years old that time).
The town people that heard the pistol come running to investigate. They are too late the students are already running in a different direction. People barely notice them because their attention was to the man lying in the road. Together they bring the man to the hospital.
The girl was left alone on the road alone, still shocked from the incident that happens. Slowly, she walked and have reached her school room silently crying. The school teacher has still no clue of the incident that happens that morning so she scolded the young lady for crying in her classroom. She just replied that she has a toothache.
No one knew that I have witnessed the killing of my father until I was old enough to talk about it to one of my siblings which are in military training and I was begging him not to enter the military.