Some People Need Killing: A Memoir of Murder in My Country

Okay, so. I already had this in my TBR and was planning to read it in some vague point in the future, but a close friend of mine picked it up and mentioned it in a tweet. Since I was midway through Mona Awad???s Rouge at the time, I promised to give it a shot once I was done with that. The finishing of THAT book got further delayed because Paladin???s Faith got released and I had to read THAT, then continued with Rouge to finish it. When it was all said and done though I picked this up and got stuck in.
Now just to be clear: I am Filipino, have lived in the Philippines all my life, and am lucky enough to live a privileged life by the standards of my country. I didn???t vote for Rodrigo Duterte in the 2016 elections because I liked neither his politics nor his values, and I certainly didn???t like the stories I???d read in the news about the Davao Death Squad, and so was one of many people who felt that sucking wave of dread when it was announced he???d won.
What followed was a nightmare I was lucky enough to view from a distance (afforded to me by my aforementioned privilege), and through the hazy fog of slow-rolling grief because of my mother???s cancer diagnosis, treatment, and death in the following years. I didn???t see all the news reports, but I did see the reactions on social media. One of the earliest ones was #CardboardJustice, which was started by my friend Hope Swann, and then popularized by Adrienne Onday. It was a response to how many murder victims had been turning up with a piece of cardboard attached to them with the statement ???Pusher ako??? (???I am a [drug] pusher???), as if that would justify their slaughter to those who came upon the victim???s body, as if all that was needed to pronounce one guilty of drug pushing was to have a cardboard sign saying so on one???s person. #CardboardJustice was one of the first grassroots movements pushing back against the drug war, and it was adopted quite widely in the latter end of 2016 and early into 2017.
Another one that sticks out in my mind is #Tumindig (???Stand Up???), which was inspired by the artwork of the same name by Kevin Eric ???Tarantadong Kalbo??? Raymundo. That artwork, released in 2021, was in response to Duterte???s handling of the COVID-19 pandemic, but also to his government???s half-dozen years of murder, red-tagging, and censorship. Like #CardboardJustice, #Tumindig inspired a movement, especially among other artists - and it was still popular enough by the time the 2022 national elections rolled around to be used by those supporting Leni Robredo???s presidential campaign. #CardboardJustice and #Tumindig - one emerging from the first year of the Duterte presidency, the other from its last - bookend six years of continuous pushback against him and his government.
But what???s puzzling is, there wasn???t any mention of this in Evangelista???s book. And even if she was unaware of those specific movements, surely she was aware of the many other grassroots movements that emerged throughout Duterte???s presidency? People from all walks of life protested against Duterte from before the beginning of his regime, all the way to the end, and even beyond. Why was no mention made of these efforts to push back? My assumption, of course, would be that any mention of these movements was left out for the sake of keeping the book???s narrative and subject matter focused, but if there was room for Evangelista???s personal stories, why was there no room to tell, even in brief, the stories of those who protested and fought back? The concepts of ???lumaban??? and ???nanlaban??? are key themes in this book, so why didn???t Evangelista even nod to the protests and protesters?
I would hope that readers, especially foreign readers, will know better than to assume that ALL Filipinos approved of what Duterte was doing, but a part of me is too cynical (especially where white Westerners are concerned) to believe that will be the case. Worse, they might assume that the masa (???the masses???) were uniformly duped into voting for him. So let me say, here and now: many Filipinos from all walks of life saw through Duterte and knew him for what he was. We didn???t vote for him, and we fought back, each in our own way, all throughout his presidency. Some of us - students, activists, social workers, journalists, and many more - were killed, or disappeared, becoming the desaparecidos (???the disappeared???) of the Duterte regime. Many were not directly targeted, but fled due to the dire circumstances both economic and social produced by his regime, looking for better and safer work and living conditions elsewhere. And many of us continue to fight back today.
As for Evangelista herself, her personal stories are scattered all throughout this book, though they are most present at the beginning. While I don???t think there???s really anything wrong with the inclusion of such stories (not least because ???memoir??? is right there in the book???s subtitle), I kind of found myself sliding through them more quickly as I sought out the more journalistic material on the drug war. It???s not that Evangelista???s personal story isn???t INTERESTING, per se, but I think it would be more interesting to foreigners, who didn???t witness the drug war in real time like most Filipinos did.
Overall I think this is a pretty important read - or, at least, for foreigners: for anyone who, as I said, didn???t see the drug war happening in real time, in front and all around them. And for the most part, it certainly reads like it???s aimed at that specific audience, shining a light on events that the rest of the world probably didn???t know about, or only understood peripherally. It???s timely too, considering the ICC case against Duterte plus who the current President and Vice President are. But for those of us who WERE here to witness the drug war, who had to live with Duterte running the country for six entire years and feared he???d declare martial law and rule us for much longer - this book might feel a bit lacking in some areas, not least the coverage of the many protests across those six years. Many people did what they could to fight back - some even disappeared, or were killed, or had to go into hiding or flee to protect themselves and/or those closest to them. It would have been nice to see them get even some coverage in this book.