HUMAN RIGHTS WATCH

‘Sagada 11’
Nightmare in Jail        

For nearly four months now, Frencess Ann Bernal, 15, has been unable to play rock and reggae – her favorite music. She and 10 other punks were detained in a Benguet district jail after being “captured” by officers of the Philippine National Police (PNP) on Feb. 14 while on their way to Sagada, Mountain Province, a well-known tourist destination.

BY ARTHUR L. ALLAD-IW
Northern Dispatch
Posted by Bulatlat 

Frencess Ann Bernal, 15, belongs to a middle class family from the National Capital Region (NCR). She dropped out of high school in her junior year and instead enrolled at the Technical Education and Skills Development Authority (TESDA) Alternative Learning Center in Marikina City. Due to her strong adventurism and love of music, she became a member of a punk group in Manila. Ray Lester Mendoza in a tearful reunion with his father days before he and fellow minor Frencess Ann Bernal were released from detention PHOTO BY ACE ALEGRE

Rock and reggae are her favorite music, she quips with pride. She enjoys playing various musical instruments in gigs with her punk group.

But for nearly four months now, she has been unable to play rock and reggae, as her facial expression shifts to sadness. Frencess and 10 other punks were detained in a district jail in Benguet after being “captured” by officers of the Philippine National Police (PNP) on Feb. 14 while on their way to a well-known tourist destination in Sagada, Mountain Province.

Her captors insist that she and her group belong to the New People’s Army (NPA) team that raided a military detachment in Mankayan, Benguet on Feb. 10.

She shared with media groups her experience at the hands of her PNP captors. She has reason to smile upon release. However, behind those rare smiles, she cried, recalling her arrest and interrogation— “My nightmare,” she says, that she will never forget.

Frencess traveled with her friends from Manila to a gig in Gerona, Tarlac. From there, they agreed to attend the Panagbenga in Baguio City. Arriving in the city on Feb. 12, a few days earlier than the official opening of the festival, she and her group decided to hitch a ride to Sagada. On Feb. 14, the truck they were in was flagged down in a police checkpoint in Bangao, Buguias town, Benguet province.

Nightmare

They were frightened when members of the PNP pointed their guns to them. “They ordered us to lie down on the truck’s still hot floor,” recalls Frencess. While lying face down, the PNP took their malong and sarong, and with these tied their hands. By force, the policemen also took their bags and cellular phones. Some of her friends were blindfolded.

After being ordered to stand up again, a PNP element kicked her on the back, to which her friends reacted, “Huwag, babae yan!” (Don’t hurt her, she is a girl!) After the initial torment, they were made to walk towards Camp Molintas, a few meters from the checkpoint.

While walking, she started to worry. She thought they would be charged of vagrancy, which is usually lodged against minors roaming around unaccompanied by their parents or guardians. It turned out, however, to be the worst nightmare of her and her friends’ lives.

At Camp Molintas’ parking lot, their captors ordered them to kneel. The sun was then at its hottest. “Pahiwatig nila (PNP) na para kaming may kasalanan” (They seemed to insinuate that we committed a crime), she recalls.

But they soon found out it was not a vagrancy charge that was coming to them.

Their captors insisted they were NPA members, and forced them to admit that they belong to the NPA team that raided the said detachment. They were told to repeat that statement several times.

But their tormentors got the same answers from all 11 youths: “We are punks from Manila.”

Frencess says the PNP identified her as the medical head of the NPA team, and that she was armed with a carbine rifle during the raid. It was then she realized they were not being detained for vagrancy but for something much worse. When the PNP could not extract information from her and her companions, a short man wearing a bonnet entered the area where all of them were gathered. The man pointed at her, Anderson Alonzo, Rondon Pandino, and Jefferson de la Rosa. Afterwards, the four were taken out of the room one by one. (Later, the author learned that the said man was a survivor of the Feb. 10 raid, either a member of the CAFGU or military.)

Frencess was brought to a room. There, a stout man with a jacket asked her about her background and her whereabouts when the raid happened. She answered it honestly: “I was in Gerona, Tarlac after she left their home in Manila.” After the stout man, another police went inside and asked her almost the same question. “Napipikon siya, at tinadyakan niya ako sa paa” (He got piqued and stomped his foot on mine), she narrates, saying it was extremely painful. At one point in time, he nearly hit her with a chair causing her to feel unexplainable fear.

The stout man went inside again while the other went out. And that process was a routine during her detention of one day and one night in Camp Molintas. She remembered well a time when the light was off. One of her interrogators, who she thinks could not accept her answers on the questions they raised, pointed a gun at her head and cocked it.

The stout policeman brought her out of the room to an area in the middle of the camp. He demonstrated how they used live wire in interrogation. He tried it on her foot, but the current went off. She realized now it was a tactic to instill fear on her to force her to admit she was the NPA medical team leader in the Mankayan raid.

Frencess remembers well that one of her interrogators, who brought her outside the room, told her that captured amasona (NPA women) are stripped and bathed in cold water. She felt chilled at what she heard, made worse by the cold weather of Buguias.

Not content with the information extracted from her, the man covered her head with a thin plastic bag, while her hands were tied. She felt suffocated. “Kinagat ko ang cellophane hanggang sa magkabutas,” (I bit on the cellophane until air came in) she said, crying.

But the police just covered her face with a thicker plastic bag. This time, she failed to bite the plastic. It was the last thing she remembered, fainting due to asphyxiation.

The policemen used the soft approach, too. One of her interrogators, who appeared kind, requested her to talk about what she knew about the NPA and the raid. He promised that if she tells him everything, that she was among the raiders and the medical officer, she would be released.

Frencess remembers the policemen who interrogated her, although they kept their names hidden. In fact, she was able to identify them when the suspected captors were presented in court.

Shattered dreams? 

Frencess and her colleague Ray Lester Mendoza, 16, were released on May 30 as among the beneficiaries of the new Republic Act No. 9344, the Juvenile Justice and Welfare Act of 2006. The law, which took effect on May 22, exempts minors from criminal liability.

Despite their release, she feels sad about their nine colleagues still jailed at the Benguet Provincial Jail. A Benguet judge quashed on May 19 the homicide with robbery charge against them, as their arrest was deemed illegal. Their fate though remains uncertain as the prosecution was given another 15 days to refile an appropriate information against them.

Frencess says she and Lester may have been released by virtue of a state law, but the police used its coercive power and the legal system to inflict violence against her person and her friends. This injustice, she says, remains a nightmare, which she would probably endure for the rest of her life. Northern Dispatch / Posted by Bulatlat