BY KEVIN CORBIN
I got up at sunbreak on a typical Monday morning, only to find there was no water for showering today. Not a problem, as I tossed on a formal Filipino shirt, shouted goodbye to the guards, and jumped into the back seat of the waiting Toyota Landcruiser. The air conditioner was pumping full blast making the windows fog up inside.
“Salam Alaikum, Sir Fahmy!”, I said to the driver. “Salam Alaikum, Sir Kevs!”, Fahmy said back. The guard got in the passenger seat, no real acknowledgment from anyone, and we sped to the office.
The education office for my development project, based inside the regional Ministry of Education, was filling with staff arriving from breakfast, morning prayers, and their homes throughout the region. The team was under a tight timeline to roll out a new reading program for young children in public schools throughout the Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao.
As a $100M Australian government-funded project, the team was highly visible in the region, making the team members targets of insurgent violence. Having guards was a natural part of our operation.
The hot day moved quickly, due in part to rounds of Sulu coffee (think: Turkish coffee) at every meeting.
I called a team meeting of the reading program leads and gathered everyone in our conference room. It’s a small, glass box with oversized furniture that can comfortably fit about 10 people – we are 15. People sit with sweaty arms rubbing up against their neighbor.
Around the third PowerPoint presentation, I noticed people looking out the windows, and lots of glassy eyes. People were drifting. Boredom is common and contagious in these meetings. I suggested we take an ice cream break at 4pm and resume in the morning.
Ice cream has been set on the conference room table. Seconds before people got up, we heard a tremendous blast, the windows rattled, and our assistant let out a scream. We instantly knew it was a bomb, familiar with the specific crack, followed by a thud, that typically goes with improvised explosive devices. Often used alongside roads or in vehicles.
Regardless, it visibly shocked several people. Their faces showed immediate signs of panic: heads ducking; face red and flushed; widely opened eyes; open mouths.
“It’s close-by,” said my deputy Ina. “…we need to consolidate the team, now!”.
I asked everyone in the conference room to immediately go to the center of the office, where we have most protection from external blasts, glass, and inside the locked area of the ministry office. Several of our staff were in the field.
A critical next step was assessing the situation. Are we in danger? Are there additional bombs? Is this part of a coordinated attack on the regional government, just as has happened historically?
Cellular signal was weak, but that was normal. While people were generally panicking, they were staying in a central location, and making calls and messaging to find out more information. It streamed in quickly, all unvalidated.
“It was an assassination attempt on the vice mayor…she survived, but many others didn’t”, said Fatima, our Office Manager.
The Assistant Secretary of Education , Noor Saada, came in through the back door. He has the code. He said he heard the blast, but didn’t know what was happening.
Ice cream was melting on the kitchen table, spilling onto the floor.
Drivers and staff in the field began reporting in on two-way radio and cell. Fatima told them to stay outside of the city, to hibernate where they are or to immediately get to a place of safety.
Official news came from my contact at the Philippine National Police that it was an IED in what appeared to be a failed political assassination attempt. The IED was detonated in a taxi as the deputy mayor passed by, killing 8 people and injuring many more.
The car was parked on Sinsuat Avenue, a main arterial road through the center of town, about 250 meters from our office. Fortunately, we were protected by another building, preventing our bomb-protected windows from breaking.
As messages came in over the radio and telephone, I updated my tally. Everyone was accounted for — no one was hurt. Everyone was safe as of 5pm. There were no further explosions. The team continued to gather information, but it mainly involved speculation that this was the act of the Bangsomoro Islamic Freedom Fighters (BIFF), an offshoot of the Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF).
I asked that the team members in the office remain there until 6pm and to use alternate routes for traveling back home. Those staff in the field were to follow the same protocols.
On Tuesday morning, the water was back on at my house. Security protocols issued by headquarters prevented me from a morning run.
The team filed into the office, chattering about the bombing and exchanging gruesome photos of multiple bodies burned by the blast of fire, laying on the street. They send them to our group email account. Filipino newspapers often include graphic images. I decide not to view them and move on to the next email.
In the process of completing situation reports, incident reports, providing briefings to headquarters office representatives, security directors, and reporters, I wonder how our staff from Cotabato, and the rest of the staff, are coping with the event.
I called a meeting with the team to process and understand the incident. People asked why were meeting on it, as if it wasn’t necessary to process emotions or get further facts. While together, they laughed nervously, looked puzzled, and offered very little comment on their personal psychological condition, but were quick to discuss the actual details of the bombing.
By Friday night, the team was singing karaoke and drinking beers at the local evening bar – both a local tradition and their preferred coping strategy. I picked up the tab.
One month later, a faction of the MNLF launched an assault on another city in the region, killing more than 300 people and displacing 100,000. Four years later, in another nearby city, a month-long insurgency killed over 1,000 people and displaced hundreds of thousands of residents.
The education project closed down and another started up, now focused more directly on using education as a path to peace. Many members of the team involved in this incident are working for that new initiative.