Susulan Tawi-Tawi: HOWs in TawiTawi

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Badjao HOWs in TawiTawi Poetry

I am a Badjao by Abdilla Sumbing

7/28/2012 10:37:00 AMFJ HAMJA

You ask me of my origin? I will tell you that I am the daughter of the four seas, you as me of my Religion? I will tell you, that the history of this country is incomplete without touching the veneer of our adventure, toast me from the tempestuous traditions of our forefathers. You ask me of my present identity? I will tell you that I am a BADJAO, but a citizen of the world.

Patriotism? Love of country? Filipinism? People Power? The only thing that my father taught me since birth was to love the tide and the rambling waves that used to rock me in my natural vinta cradle. I have become the part of the ocean floor that’s why I smell the seaweed and sun dune. The Philippines I knew since childhood was same shores and beach that nurtured me with shells and turtle eggs. Though it have made unchanged for centuries. That vast and opportunities thereof are straight to me as the highland people who proudly called themselves Filipinos.

Government? Bill me ignorant in the art of politics. Indict me for not knowing the Philippine constitution. Disgrace me for not respecting the Filipino flag and the national anthem. Curse me for not speaking the lingo of the highland people. But let me ask you just one simple question? Just one simple question? Did you? You who proudly called yourself true Filipino? In words, in thought and in deeds? Come to teach my father and his forebears the legacy you called civilization?

My elder brother told me that my father died a couple of years ago. Because uniformed men with guns came to force him to ferry them to the other side of the island. He refused and they shot him. His body was mutilated with bullets and he died. He was murdered at the stark of the daylight, nobody came to save him not even his soul. He was never buried because he was smelly old man.

My mother died yesterday because my father untimely diminished. To her, it meant losing her arms, her strength and the world. She was everything to us and no aqua herbs and vegetation that ever give her back the thought of his present and the memory of our sea-fearing. Both of them died for me to defend our rights which are as sacred as the black stone of Arabia.

And now, you come to compel me to love this country? You mistakably called the Philippines in honor of the Spanish conquistadors? You come to impose on us, taxes, impossible to pay? You come to give me gun to fight beside you and so called enemies of the republic? Damn you. Go to hell. Go back and tell your leaders that I cannot fight your battle. Tell them that I’m belong to the sea, and I owe you nothing, nothing . . .

Ladies and gentlemen. Forgive me for raising my voice to high. Pardon me for being to naïve and temperamental. But if you should know my tarsilas my great, great grandfather taught me the ten Bornean Datus the art of sailing. He was a wise man, because he could tell the weather by the position of the stars. How we followed to this part of Asia? I do not know?

But you could not bear in mind. That we both suffered the evil of foreign subjugation, the wrath of colonization and the brutalities of tyranny and oppression. Together we shed blood to win our freedom. We fought, we cried and then rejoice to have it. Then as we reaped the blessing of independence you share it with no one, you become self-centered. Your leaders poured million of pesos to develop the land while the greedy men from among you started destroying my kingdom with dynamites and illegal methods of catching our marine resources.

Ladies and gentlemen, my voice is distant from Manila government. We are few, that’s why we are not strong. But I swear by all the idols that we worship, that my children, children will go on shouting until their voice will become strident. Until I would become dear to you because I am the other Filipino. (I am a Badjao) Be the judge, be a wise khady, judge my past, my present, and judge my future and my destiny lies in your hand. . .

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I am a Badjao, is actually composed by Sir Abdilla Sumbing from Simunul, Tawi-Tawi. It became famous in talent present in local pageants. Most of the contestants depicted this actually won the show. I actually got the chance to have this copy ‘cause somebody asked me to encode this in last year’s Budjang Tawi-Tawi.