WARRIORS
Vicky Manalo
P.E.R.K.S.M.V.M. COPYRIGHT. COVER PHOTOBO
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Hit it hard, haaayy....we've been practicing for hours, God knows what, you still can't figure out where I'll pitch the ball? Tsk!!!, one girl said to another while preparing to throw the almost shredded cream looking ball mostly because of the dirt stuck on to it maybe from the ground these girls are playing at after school in Pulupandan, Negros Occidental.
Sensya na, Pinang! Haaay, Di ko matamaan! I wanted to but I couldn't . ang bilis mo'ng magbato kasi!, the other girl uttered sitting on the ground hitting it like she is dead tired, her butt or bottom first. Haaa! Di ko maintindihan bakit nhihirapan ka? Ayusin mo naman Ronalda!, Pinang yelled. She was about 150 meters from where Ronalda is standing.
Okey! Aprub! Here I go!, Ronalda said while standing up, brushing the dirt and sand off her butt and with her form she can hit the ball. She knows she can.
Pinang and Ronalda are playing softball near the beach of Pulupandan. Apparently, Pinang lives a couple of miles away from the beach and it is always what she loves about Negros. Aside from the chicken inasal, the beach and the people who are born sweet and helpful.
March 6, 1911, Josefina was born and it is been a whirlwind for her when her parents left the city to live in a province. Even though Negros is a budding town then, it showed promise. I love Tatay and Nanay so much I didn't want to disappoint them with my sport. I am a smart and beautiful girl, well, was what my Tatay always say and Nanay will just smirk when he does this along with my siblings, in fact, all 12 of them did. Hehe! I am a stubborn, pretty and smart gal who knows what she wants and gets what she desires until I needed to travel to Manila since I got married. Softball is now only a dream for me, and having a family became my top priority.
World War II sprang and my husband who is a sergeant needed to be posted in the frontline so I was left to care for my six children. They were still young then and I couldn't bear to witness the sad and harsh stories I hear in the hands of those Japanese soldiers so I hid and saved my loves away from the chaos. I asked a friend named Mario to house me and my children. But as my husband's best friend I didn't think he would have any personal agendas in helping a dear friend. However, while my children are sound asleep, Mario would make advances on me. He tried to hit on me even if my kids are there to see it, yet I always stop him and advice not to do it again. Yet, he was persistent and raped me over and over again. Since I didn't have a choice and didn't want my children to suffer and die in the war, I kept quiet and bore all the pain, the guilt and the malicious intentions of my savior turned captor. Then the inevitable happened and my husband who is one of the soldiers in the Philippine Veteran Army died in the battle. I never even heard of him nor his companions after the war but I stayed strong for my children and our future together, now that he is gone, God bless his soul. I filled up a form and sent it to Veterans Bank and received money, pensions, every month from the U.S. government since my late husband fought in the Veteran Army during the war. It was a huge help and I was able to send my children to reputable schools and finished college. I also enrolled to a beauty school since I loved fixing hairs and do nails as a hobby. After Mario, I met men who I thought really loved me but didn't, then met Valente, who I stayed with until I had two children, which is now nine in total. I thanked God for the blessings and that my late husband was the true hero who saved me from misery and debt, plus his continued support and pensions helped me, my children and my relatives live a good life and all.
Josefina, me, is a strong lady who even won Mrs. ALA or American Auxillary Association competition, and became queen, which was held in Baguio City....
Haaa...this is so much fun. Lola became a queen, why I always wanted to be one too. But as she always call me, Inday!, it's new to my ear but a sweet remembrance that Lola loves me and always was there to support and care for me and her grandchildren, no matter what.
I read through Lola's diary, and I miss her so much....now! It's been, what?....thirteen or fifteen years since she passed and as if it is just yesterday when I come to think, smell and remember the days I spent in her room, and home in Lamuan. I may not know how Lola felt or what she experienced during her time, maybe she also suffered a great deal and women during the war were not just there to be soldiers' mates but women who fought strong, hard and smart to survive and live to tell their stories.
Powerful, strong and beautiful women are the people who have been part of my life that shaped me to become who I am now. Their stories are what inspires me to write about them and how these remarkable beings helped and made an impact, in my life, of who I am today. Their story is my story.
Obsession is a term where one's desire becomes a need that when she or he didn't fulfill is like a crippling experience and it is sad, uninspiring, demeaning.
Women are often pictured as weak, needy and pickle-minded but no. We may be those but most often than not, we are strong, resilient, crazy forgiving and loving up to the extent of building bridges just to reach out to others even if it's not necessary or the people we are trying to please, help are cold and are not worth it. But as a woman myself, however bad the person or the situation is, I still think of the positive and deal with the person or event as a challenge and learning experience that truly enough, is always worth my time and effort.
I was asked before about my style of writing and neither I nor my mentors know what my type of writing really is. I have read so many books when I was little that I couldn't remember where I learned to write but just wrote as I was growing and never looked back.
YOU ARE READING
WARRIORS (MVManalo)
Tarihi KurguHit it hard, haaayy....we've been practicing for hours, God knows what, you still can't figure out where I'll pitch the ball? Tsk!!!, one girl said to another while preparing to throw the almost shredded cream looking ball mostly because of the dirt...