The Adventure of ten Carmelite Nuns by Muslim Revolutionaries

(From the last Issue)…Ten Carmelite nuns, kidnapped by the eagle commandos, are now on a boat on Lake Lanao going they know not where.

Continuation…

About two and half hours later, reached out destination 9on the other side of the lake: A Maranao house just by the shore, which would be our home for the next three days. It was a typical Maranao house one big whole with no partitions. In one corner was a big bed (the bedroom), which was given for our use. In the other side was a table bench, and that was all the furniture in the house. We were welcomed as guests, given the best they could offer –the best blankets, the best pillows, their best plates. Though we were packed like sardines on that one big bed, we found comfort of being so close to one another in such a strange place and amidst the strange people.

(On the succeeding days, three sisters moved to the floor beside the bed to give more place for everyone.) Before we ‘retired’ for the night, ( it must been around two o’clock in the morning) the real leader and mastermind of the group, Commander Rommel, spoke to us and told us the reason for kidnapping us. He explained that their group, called “commando” was a splinter group of the MNLF (Moro National Liberation Front). He said that  he wanted to get the attention of Cory (Pres. Aquino) for their cause. They wanted to Tripoli Agreement to be respected and the Muslims to be given their autonomy. He said that Cory is anti-Muslim because she was under the influence of Cardinal Sin. He asked us to write to Cardinal Sin as he did not like the military or the local politicians to be involved in the negotiations for our release. Sr. Madeleine explained to him that our Superior was Bishops Tudtud of Marawi  and not Cardinal Sin, and this took him by surprise. He did not know anything about bishops, or there was one in Marawi. In hearing of all, Commander Rommel then assured us that nothing would happen to us, that they would provide for all our needs so we could asked for anything we needed, and that if we had any complaints about his men, this should be brought to his attention immediately. This time he spoke in English and Tagalog, and it was clear  that he had more schooling than the rest of the group.

That was a sleepless night to all of us, and at the first break of dawn, we  got up to greet the new day with morning praise. Throughout the days of our captivity, we faithfully prayed. As we had no Breviary with us (until the last day when the package arrived from home), we just tried to remember the psalms and canticles as we  could. We  shared Scripture passages that we know by heart and we sung songs to the accompaniment of our guitar. It was a living liturgy we celebrated from early dawn till night fall, seated in a circle on our one big bed. For Midmorning, Midday and Mid afternoon prayer we  would recite the rosary and end with some bible sharing and a responsorial song. We were aware all the time that we  were observing Novena of our Lady of Mt. Carmel, and we celebrated her presence and motherly love and care, and united our selves with all our brothers and sisters of the order whom we  knew were all praying for us.

So for three days we carried on our ‘regular community life in that Maranao house. The owner of the house with his wife and two little children made up the typical Maranao family. The wife’s mother was an elderly Muslim who said her prayers five times a day. She would put on a special prayer dress, a special light colored Malong that covered her from head to foot. Then she would spread out her prayer mat and go through the ‘sala’. What  an experience it was to be praying our divine office in one corner of the house at the same time that this Muslim woman would also be offering her praises to God-Christian and Muslim hearts raised together in prayer to the one God and father  of all.

Also part of the households was this Muslim woman’s son and  his wife, a nurse from Cagayan de Oro City, who became our companion, councilor and friend. She had been brought up as Christian and could  sympathized with the plight of the ‘Madres’. She and her husband cooked the meal for everybody. Our meal consisted of rice, fish and vegetables (cooked in coconut milk as is common among Maranaos), the usual Carmelite diet, so it was ‘regular’ life indeed for us. As guests, we would always eat ahead of the others and they would not approach the table until we had not finished eating. Three hot meals a day was a “luxury” for us because back home, we would cook only for lunch and  eat left- overs (usually cold) for supper and breakfast the next day. Another  ‘luxury ‘ was the spring nearby the where we could bath and wash our cloth everyday. The daily visit to the spring was the only time we could go out to the house, and the abundance of the water gushing out of the rock was not only cleansing and refreshing  for our bodies but also washed our hearts with its purity and life.

Our kidnappers became part of the households  during our stay there. They occupied the other end of the room. They took turn keeping the guards at night, so that while some would by patrolling out side, a few would be resting or cleaning their gun in the room. We noticed that they were endlessly handling their weapons, dismantling and assembling them and cleaning them over and over again. Besides the kidnappers who had come with us on the motorboat, there were other armed men going  up and down of the house by day and by night so that it was hard to keep track of just how many were involved in the kidnap plot.    

Occasionally, especially a day or two, when they had noticed what a happy, laughing, singing praying group these  nuns were some our captors would come and shares their stories with us. Together we would the night of our kidnapping and have a good laugh because at the fright both they and we had. They  said “were you nervous, sister? We were also nervous!” as we listen to their stories, we felt that our kidnapping was not really an act of violence in their part. You may think that we were the victims, but they were the real victims. They resorted to use the of the guns because they were caught in a system where there own leaders took advantages of them and used them for their own personal interests and ambitions. How heart went out to them as they shared their personal lives, theirs dreams, their pains, their struggles… As each day passed, we found ourselves entering into a “dialogue of life” with our Muslim captors whose hearts were opening as brothers and friends…                      

 (To be continued)