Even when all manner of unrest and killings have been going on around them and at times to them, the multitude of Mindanaoans remained curiously quiet. Their silence, at least to me, is tantamount to abandoning, in a psychological sense, their home, their land, their persons, their dreams, their future. For so long, they have allowed their home to be where all manner of infestations are cooked up. How many more of their kin would they see die before their time and meaninglessly? In standing idly by, they have become accomplices to these senseless deaths.
It is time Mindanaoans make that psychological journey home, to claim it back. Though they are of different tribes and religions, they are all of one home. A family. Their home is being pulled this way and that because members of the family are scattered.
It is time Mindanaoans rouse themselves to the ugly truth of their surroundings, hold each other’s hands, order their minds, straighten their shoulders, and find their voice.