The Ilaga’s violent trail in the region brought great trauma to the community of Manili, particularly its women. The pressing threat of Ilaga on their community left many on their toes as they anticipated on the impact these men would have on their community.

 

Maguindanaoan women in Manili worried over their families. Given the patriarchal order of Muslim families, a loss in the family, particularly its men, would pose a problem for the community’s women. Unlike liberal Muslim families living close to urban areas, Muslims living in rural towns abide by a social order that privileges men (Gowing 1980, 90–97). Men in Manili had greater mobility compared to women as they actively engaged in commercial and social activities. The women, in turn, provided support to these activities.

Farming and logging were, and continues to be, a main source of livelihood among the people of Manili. Theng Nagli recounts the good life his family used to live during this period and shared how their family had a large home before their life changed during the massacre. Their father even had a truck that allowed them to log in Davao (T. Nagli 2021). His sisters, Fatima and Amalia, recount this prosperous life with great fondness for their father who even shared his generosity with the community. Fatima recalled, “Kagina si ama anto na p’ndulang sa madakel papegkan sa bamedsambayang sa gyamat (Because our father feeds the people who worship on Fridays) (F. Nagli 2021).” For others, farming was a source of income. Rice, kangkong, and other staple vegetables were valuable crops to the community. Men, however, were mostly responsible for farming. This aligns with their own local belief that men are responsible for taking care of their family’s needs (Gowing 1980, 75). Dire circumstances, such as the threat of the Ilaga, have shifted trade among communities around Manili. Taga recounts, “Bagamong ako bag harvesty sa palay, endaw e mga galbek na mga mama na lu ako menem ba mamong asal ka muyag kami (I participated in harvesting rice grains. Wherever men had work, I also joined so that we could survive) (Mamaluba 2021).” The other men also spoke of their accountability in helping their families survive after the massacre. Men’s efforts ranged from taking responsibility of their families by helping them in bakwit, a local word for emigration away from war. For some, this also meant moving to other provinces to find work and help and their families.

Beyond their economic mobilities, Muslim men also had greater social leverage compared to women as Muslim communities encouraged men to participate in public spaces such as schools. Since the 1950s, public education increased in Mindanao (Hunt 1974, 205–8). This made, at the very least, elementary education accessible in the most remote towns. Who studied in these schools varied from place to place. More progressive Muslim families in urban areas allowed their sons and daughters to enter educational institutions. Most families, particularly in rural towns like Manili, only encouraged their sons to go to school. According to Hunt, there was a low percentage of Muslim women attending schools since the 1950s (1974, 206). The rationale in women’s low enrolment rate during this period was primarily cultural. Given how Islamic faith took pride in the purity and sanctity of women’s bodies, there was fear that interactions in coeducation public schools would corrupt Muslim daughters. As such, public education, which involved the basic skills of reading, writing, and arithmetic, were inaccessible to young Maguindanaoan women in Manili such as Fatima, Amalia and Taga. Their lack of access to public education, however, did not mean that these women were illiterate. The local community offered Islamic education. Fatima shared, “Nangagi ako sa dako makapangagi sa English sya ko bu nakapangagi sa Qur-an endo Kitab (I was able to study Qur’an and Kitab but not English) (F. Nagli 2021).” Young women like Fatima were educated by female Islamic educators fondly called madrasta who taught them to read Arabic and cite passages from various Islamic texts. These Islamic schools deepened women’s connection to the Islamic faith while also developing their understanding of the world through Islam’s patriarchal social order. As such, when the massacre at the local mosque happened, causing the deaths of many men in the community, the women were at a loss on what they were to do next.

[N]a sekami da kami makaludep sa masgit anto kagina aden isa babay a midtalo sa da kano p’ludep san sa masgit anan tigin ka kena inan p’meeting tigin ka bangimatay tigin ka bamidsol dn tigin entoy sa center aa entubay da name kaamong sa ludep masgit anto na guna so mayto dn ban a lu kami dn nakabpawang sa lubay sa atag na Olivia nya name ba kinawma lo na mimbeto na tigi ina banan nya nin pidtalo na daden tigin si bapa ka inimatayan tigin na mga Ilaga,

We didn’t enter the mosque that day because one woman said, “Don’t enter that mosque because it’s not a meeting but a massacre and they also burned the center.” That’s the reason why we didn’t go to the mosque and headed towards Olivia. When we reached our destination, we heard loud gunfire. The only thing my mother could say was, “Your uncle is no longer with us. He’s been murdered by the Ilaga (F. Nagli 2021).”

Young as she was, Amalia Nagli vividly recalled this woman who warned them about what was to happen in the local mosque. Prior to this warning, members of the community were already being rallied together given the ongoing onslaught of Ilaga around the region. Theng Nagli relayed that the community was aware of how parts of their town were already being burned by Ilaga. He read an announcement from Usman Amelia, an officer from the Municipality of Carmen, that there will be a gathering at the local mosque on 19 June 1971. The meeting was supposed to be a dialogue between Christians and Muslims in Manili yet even before this meeting, the Ilaga were already ravaging their community (T. Nagli 2021).

Fatima recalled how her father, Haji Usop, rushed home from Davao to attend this meeting. She even added that the letter given to the community even advised them to “anya nakawma na pinabatya dn nilan sameto na tig nilan na gay na sapto tigin alas syete tigin bulig bulig kano sya sa masgit aa p’meeting ugeyd tigin da kano pebpalak palak tigin ka ilaga (The letter contains that on Saturday, at seven, we should gather at the mosque because there is a meeting but we shouldn’t separate because there are Ilaga) (F. Nagli 2021).” Knowing the dangers of this meeting, Fatima’s father spoke to ten other men and informed them to hide by the coconut plantation just in case something happened at the mosque. The leader of Ilaga troop in Manili, Hesus, demanded the presence of Manili elders and leaders in Manili Primary School. Haji Usop, Haji Acob, Haji Kabeb, Haji Omar, Abusama, Kadil Nagli, Abdul Nagli Abas, Pendatun and Abedin headed to Manili Primary School where most of them were locked inside the school. Haji Usop, Haji Acop and Abdul Nagli Abas were isolated by the Ilaga and were led to the mosque with guns pointed at their bodies.

Upon their arrival, members of the Manili community were already gathered at the mosque, afraid of what was to come next. Over a hundred members of the Manili community filled every inch of the mosque while the Ilaga stood around its periphery, with guns slung over their shoulders. The crammed space raised the temperatures inside the mosque. Outside, some Ilaga soldiers were cooling themselves with cold cola.

As people The Ilaga demanded Haji Usop to surrender the guns hidden in Manili. According to Theng Nagli, his father replied, “Sinapang nami ka kena kami p’mbunwa ka farmer’s kami endo benegosyo kami (We do not have arms because we are not fighters, we are farmers and we trade lumber) (T. Nagli 2021).” The Ilaga continued to demand a name from Haji Usop who eventually suggested the name of a man who lived an hour away. The Ilaga threatened everyone in the mosque. Taga recalled the Ilaga’s threat as they said, “sabot kano dn sa kadnan no ka da kadnan no ka sekami ka mebped kano saguna (start praying to your god because we are the gods who will murder all of you) (Mamaluba 2021).” If the Ilaga did not find this man and these guns within an hour, the people in the mosque would be murdered. Theng, Fatima, and Taga were with their families in that mosque. Despite the threat, Fatima knew that Allah would protect them. She said, “So Allahu taala bu man e mataw kagina su kadnan man a di myog ka sekami na dala (The Allah Taala knows everything. Our God will not allow everyone to perish) (F. Nagli 2021).” Unfortunately, the Ilaga men were not able to find this man within an hour. Guns started blazing and grenades were thrown in the mosque.

“[M]inatay salkami ka si ina bu si ama endo so kwana ali name salangon na namba e simuso sa minatay e ina nin kambityala sya sa masgit a aden san wata a nakasusu sa minatay dn si ina, nin na guna dn sameto napasad dn into ka naka awa kami dn endaw dn e kipatay ni ama anto pidtalo nin menem sa awa kano dn sya tigin ka dala dn so ilaga. Nambay si Tunisa wata ni bapa si Tunisa syabay p’gkalben tigin anya syakawn tigin ka malagoy tano kena ka tabya sa kadnan natebped so bubun nin ka tubay inidtugan sa Granada na so ali nin so ali ni Tunisa na nakasampayat lu sa Monara so bok nin namba guna e gelay na tao banan maya endaw dn e kapeg ka lulum na maya na mana pgkaleg lo sa pulo kagina sigay no taw a inimatayan na so katudtulan no mga tao na namba kun banan masgit a minigis e lugo nin mayay ugeyd na di mado di mado kagina kahanda nu Allahu Taala ka benal benal na da kadupangan na taw enduken ka pangimatayan baguyag sa mapia.”

In our family, only my father and mother died. Our youngest sibling was but an infant who nursed from my mother’s dead body. After everything, we left because someone told us that the Ilaga left. My uncle’s child, Tunisa, called us yet she was not aware that she had already lost her leg during the bombing. Her sibling was left hanging in the mosque’s minaret. Sometimes, people in the community would notice their hair ablaze in the afternoon, like the light of the people who died in the mosque. Some even said that blood flows within the mosque yet this blood left no stench because Allah wanted people to realize the truth––the victims of that massacre had done nothing wrong yet why were they murdered when they lived in peace? (F. Nagli 2021) 

The gruesome massacre in the Manili mosque left its survivors in shock. Fatima still vividly recalled her escape as she shared,

“na tidto-tido dn ba so ganggula mapasang dn a benal guna so kwana diko dn gasambyan so mga balgas napinang dn a lugo meto bun e nyay e diko dn gadtulan ka panun kadtulan mambo sa natagak nengka so mga langon taman nengka sya sa walay da nait nami na metuba inuyag no Allahu Taala so taw sa taman sa dapan tingka makwana e panun bantoy e kauyag uyag name.

What we experienced was very difficult. I couldn’t change my clothes which was heavily soaked in blood. I couldn’t do anything about it. How could I change my clothes when our belongings were left at home and we couldn’t bring a single thing with us? Only Allah Taala helped us survive at a time when we didn’t know how to live. (F. Nagli 2021)” 

On Taga’s end, she recalled seeing members of her family die as she shared “so laki dn menem na si ina da matay si ama endo so kaka ko so ali nami a dwa kataw na nabad kami a saka pamilya (My mother didn’t die. My father, my older brother and my younger siblings. Our family was broken) (Mamaluba 2021).” More than seventy Manili residents died in the mosque. Others immediately jostled to safety.

The instinct of many who survived the massacre was to run away from Ilaga’s brutal reach. Common to the stories of these women is bakwit, their families’ exodus from their razed homes. Some had time to carry important belongings to survive in another town while others carried solely their sorrows on their backs. That was the case for Fatima and her immediate family.

After the murder of their parents, Fatima and her surviving siblings sought safety from one town to the next. Having carried nothing, they went to Mulita which was an hour’s distance from Manili. With her blood-stained clothes, Fatima continued to travel to Bulyok, then Inged, before their family settled for a while in Tambak. Fatima shared, “[N]a katawi ka dn bay bakwit a mapasang dn ka dala net ta langon taman (It was difficult to go through bakwit because you don’t have anything) (F. Nagli 2021).” She also spoke how their family continued to migrate together from one town to another during this period. While bakwit provided temporary refuge, violence followed them everywhere. Fatima said, “Na dantapan ka mga ali ko anya da kami bun makabpipitas ka kaka ko anto lo sa Balabagan na pakawma kami bun lo na Matanog na nakagkaleben kay sa matanog na sa Kabugaw na nakagkalben kami bun sa Kabugaw inambush kami pan sa Tugayb lo sa Intero na nyabay nasugat salaki Na nagilkan ako bun sya sa masgit kumin sa lo sa kinambush salkami (My eight siblings and I could not separate. We were even able to visit our older sibling who lived in Balabagan. We also lived in Matanog and Kabugaw. We even got ambushed in Tugayub in Intero. I was wounded but I was more terrified during the massacre at the mosque than when we were ambushed.) (F. Nagli 2021)”

Similar to Fatima, Taga’s family was forced to leave Manili after the massacre. More than losing her father and siblings, Taga’s family also lost everything. Taga recalled: 

“Kano tuba timpo sa kinambakwit sa kina massacre sa Manili na na binidsulan so walay name, su walay ni ama na su kalabaw na kinwa so mga dado, da inisama langon taman name ka da nakwa name lun so dumeket bu sa lawas e nakwa name.

At that time, we had to migrate because they burned our house during the Manili Massacre. They took our carabao and our farming tools. They left us with nothing. The only thing we had was what we wore.”

Their family moved to Kayaga where they had relatives. At Kayaga, Taga forced herself to work as her mother remained traumatized by the massacre. She often followed the men when they harvested rice grains. Since the grains were owned by the people of Kayaga, Taga’s income depended on the number of grains they harvested. She shared, “[U]mengka madakel kami na aden anto a saka lata bu e gakwa ko a palay (When we have plenty, I can get a tin’s worth of grains).” She also added, “[M]etuba bamantyali ka o dika mamantyali na dika maka kan (We still needed to work else we couldn’t eat) (Mamaluba 2021).” Taga eventually moved to the town of Simoni where she worked to harvest corn. She shared that her family also ate taro to survive.

 Like Fatima, Amalia also followed her family’s bakwit. Since their family managed to evade the massacre at the mosque, their father was quick to prepare their belongings for their departure. Their family brought six cows with them, yet these didn’t last long. Amalia shared:

“Su uyag-uyag name na makalat sa ginawa ka su ama name nan aka-labor sa kabaguyag bu salekami ka walo kami kataw, tuba bityala na ina name banto na namakandagang kami pan sa kang-kong asal a makapamasa sa begas, guna su meto ren ba na kapasangan kami ren ka maya naibped den su kalabaw na maya muli tanu ren man sa manili ka apia man ulak na saging bu ataw manguda a unga na saging na miyag tanu den lu sa manili, tuba e kinoli name siya.

Our life was pitiful. Our father had to do hard labor just to survive his eight children. My mother told me that he even sold kangkong so that he could buy rice. That’s what happened. Our cows were running out hence our parents felt it might be better to return to Manili. Even if we eat just banana blossoms or unripe bananas, we’ll survive. This was why we decided to return to Manili (A. Nagli 2021). 

Home was always in the minds of these women and their families. Their constant displacement made it particularly difficult for their families to settle and establish their livelihoods. With the constant threat of the Ilaga, they often found themselves moving from one place to another, adapting to new communities before leaving again to run away from danger. Unfortunately, as long as the Ilaga were powerful in the region, the town of Manili remained unsafe. Amalia shared her experience when they returned to Manili:

[N]ame anto nana muli tanu ren sa manili ka sawalo bu e nasaman nya ibaguyag tanu, tuba na nakambalingan kami den menem sya. Guna kami menem makambalingan siya kanu timpo na entu ba na, ulyanan nu kina-massacre na tubay pembityala ni ina anto a Igurot 42nd IB, tiga mga taw a “40-iyot” ka mangyat sa babay. Katanudan ko den ka masala-sela ako den ka makait ako den sa lima timan a baso a peb-puyon bale nakambakwit kami menem sa lu kami nakabpawang sa mulita na pedtundugen kami na basuka, nakoma kami sa tyugaw na saki yako bu nait sameto na lima timan a baso a inumbalan ni ina sa puyo bale lu kami den nakabpawang sa tyugaw bali nakatitay kami sa titayan na Kalegen bali lu kami den sa tinimbakan guna kami makoma sa tinimbakan na nakadsampa kami sya sa Kilanga, nakapangangawid si ama sa nagagan. Guna sameto na penggileka menem ka nakalu kami menem sa Pagalungan, di bun mapia e uyag-uyag bale tiga ama name banto na mengka maya ba tigin kani ina na muli tanu lu sa Manili, bale pembuno-buno bun su kinoma name sya na nakambakwit kami menem, nabidsulan menem su mga walay, maya ba e nanggula sya.

When we returned to Manili after the massacre, there was a group of Igorot 42nd IB who settled here which they called ’40-iyot’. This group raped women in the community. I still remember because I was old enough to carry five glasses when we moved to Malita. They were following us with bazooka. When we arrived in Tyugaw, the only thing we had was the glasses I brought which my mother used as storage. We even crossed the bridge at Kelegen, towards tinimbakan and stayed at Kilanga. At that town, my father was able to farm, but just for a while. We eventually left and headed to Pagalungan. Our life remained difficult that my father said, “if our life remains like this, it’s better to head back to Manili.” When we returned, the fighting was still ongoing. We were forced to leave Manili once more because they burned our house (A. Nagli 2021).

The continuous ambush of Ilaga during the 1970s and the heightened violence they brought to various Muslim communities displaced and traumatized many peace-loving Muslims. For Maguindanaoan women, news of sexual violence and murder further heightened their fears from being separated from their families. As such, the stories of these three women highlight great dependency on their male relatives or to their husbands. Due to their precarious lives, these women married young to find some semblance of stability. Amalia married at the age of thirteen while Taga married at the age of twenty. Fatima could not recall when she married but she remembers having a large family which included three sons and five daughters, all of whom were educated in Q’uran. Amalia also has eight children, five sons and three daughters. Taga has six children, three sons and daughters. As their families grew bigger and the violence in their area settled down, these women returned home where their husbands and children started to rebuild their lives. Despite the absence of Ilaga, finding their normal was still difficult for the women of Manili.

The stories of Fatima, Amalia and Taga highlight the trauma they experienced under Ilaga’s brutality and the pain of surviving such tragic event. Their stories speak of how such forms of violence have intimate impacts, affecting their lives beyond the confines of that mosque or the town of Manili. 

While one might reduce the massacre at Manili as an example of religious tensions between Catholics and Muslims in Mindanao, the women’s stories show a complex pattern of violence beyond these religious and armed tensions. The Ilaga violence served as a trigger to other forms of violence that further jeopardized the lives of Manili women.

Structural violence appears through the lack of security and mobility for these women. This lack of security comes through private and public forms. The lack of government protection through the containment of the Ilaga in the 1970s contributed to the increasingly precarious lives of these women. The loss of patriarchal figures in their families and community brought greater insecurity for these Maguindanaoan women who, at that time, highly depended on these male figures. The cultural perception of women as sexual objects also exposed them to greater danger that threatened the sanctity of their bodies. This immense vulnerability is exemplified by how these three women shared the same narrative of moving from one town to another with the help of their relatives. Their heavy reliance on their families signifies women’s exposure to great danger. In the process, these dangers and cultural limits prevented these women to mobilize on their own.

Despite these challenges, the women of Manili also showcased resilience. Taga’s efforts to integrate herself in communities by engaging in men’s jobs allowed her to support her family. Her motivation to fix and take care of her broken family pushed her to break the cultural limits that hindered Maguindanaoan women. That said, Taga’s agency should not have been driven by such dire realities. State and community support should have made women’s mobility more accessible during trying times. 

The guns and bombs in Manili have long been quiet yet the impacts of the massacre could still be felt by the community. The trauma is intergenerational as the children of these women still struggle to survive in their community where little support is given. Education is still limited for the children of Manili. It took great effort for mothers like Amalia to send some of their children to local colleges and university. Despite their difficulties in finding stability due to their frequent migration, two of her daughters and one of her sons were able to finish their degrees. They carry Amalia’s hope for a better future for their family and their community.

Ilaga’s ruthlessness in Manili was unspeakable yet these women bravely spoke to cry justice for all the innocent people who lost their lives in that mosque. Many of them reiterated how they have spoken to many people yet their concerns remained unaddressed. If anything, their continued efforts to get their story heard highlights their need for meaningful justice, one that would pay due respects to the many lives lost in the mosque while also providing support that could help them heal the trauma of the past and sustain a peaceful future for their children. 

“Na pangeni ngenin tano sakadnan na nyaba a Kapembityala tano anya na ampunenen nu Allah Taala. Ampunen nu kadnan ka madakel dn e kina interview salaki na nya nilan pan anya dakaw tigin anya pgkwa sa makabayad, ka lo kanu kano Allahu saki na tubumbay e penggamut ko sa si ama anto na lukop bun into sa Allahu Taala ka inimatayan sa da kadupangan nin nan a entuba isurga pangenin ngenin ta sa kadnan na maka surga si ama silan kani ina langon langon na tuba taman Assalamo Alaykom Warahmatullahi Wabarakatuhu.

Let us ask from Allahu Taala to receive our conversation. I hope he hears our pleas because we have been interviewed many times and some even said that we shouldn’t be paid. I find refuge when I think that my father is with Allahu Taala because he was killed without doing anything wrong. I ask from Allahu Taala that my father could join them in paradise along with many others. Assalamo alaykom warahmatullahi Wabarakatuhu. (F. Nagli 2021)”