FR DIARIES | Five Years Ago Today, I Was Saved

August 1, 2021

Five years ago today, I was not simply captured. I was saved.

People still ask me, sometimes with curiosity and sometimes with judgment, why I left the armed movement. The truth is more complicated than a single word. I did not immediately surrender. I was captured alive. But in the days and months that followed, I made a conscious decision to surrender not because I had been defeated, but because I had finally found a reason greater than war.

I was five months pregnant with my second child, whom I would later name Paglaum, a Visayan word that means hope. Beneath years of ideology, conflict, and survival, there was a heartbeat reminding me that another life depended on mine. I could no longer allow my children to inherit a future defined by fear, violence, and loss.

This photograph brings me back to that day in an MNLF community in Pikit, Cotabato. The silence was broken by the arrival of armed men. One pointed a rifle toward me as I instinctively held my unborn child. Then I heard a command: “Do not resist. You are completely surrounded.”

I stood still and asked, “Unsa inyohang tuyo, Sir?”

The reply was calm and certain.

“Huwag ka nang magkaila, Jane. Kilala ka namin.”

In that moment of fear and uncertainty, I reached out and held the hand of a man I instinctively believed I would be safe with. I did not know then that he was Col. Jeejee Deytour, Commanding Officer of the 10th Military Intelligence Battalion, one of the officers who led the operation that resulted in my capture.

Life has a remarkable way of transforming the meaning of our encounters. Today, he is not merely remembered as the officer present on that day. He is one of the godfathers of my son, Paglaum—my kumpare.

My journey toward peace did not end with that encounter. It continued because there were people who chose humanity over vengeance.

I will always be grateful to Lt. Gen. Jun Torres, then Commander of the 10th Infantry Division, who ensured that I remained safe and alive during one of the most uncertain periods of my life. His leadership reflected the principle that even in conflict, human dignity must never be abandoned.

I also owe a profound debt of gratitude to BGen. Dodoy Yecla, then Commander of the 1003rd Infantry Brigade. While I was under the Brigade’s custody and facing 34 criminal cases, he treated me not as someone beyond redemption, but as a human being capable of change. In many ways, he became a second father to me, reminding me through his actions that accountability and compassion can exist together.

To the masses who sheltered me, to the people who once believed in my humanity even in my darkest days, and to my family who never stopped praying that I would return alive, thank you. You all became part of the reason I chose life.

Today, I continue serving the Filipino people—not through armed struggle, but through the law, peacebuilding, education, and truth. My convictions remain rooted in justice, but I now believe that lasting justice is strongest when it is pursued within the rule of law and in the service of peace.

I still carry the name Ka Marikit, not to romanticize where I came from, but to remind myself that identity is never a prison. People are capable of changing. Institutions are capable of changing. Even histories of conflict can become histories of reconciliation.

To my former comrades, and to the brave men and women of our security forces, I hope we continue creating spaces where people can choose a different future. Every person who lays down arms is not merely leaving a battlefield; they are choosing the possibility of becoming a parent, a student, a public servant, or a citizen who contributes to nation-building.

May we never grow tired of creating opportunities for people to choose a different path. Peace is built not only by ending conflict, but by opening doors for transformation.

Five years ago, I was saved.

Today, I choose, every single day, to help others believe that transformation is possible.

Alagaran ang Katawhan!