I am Maguindanao.

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Why did you have to drench my soil with the blood of all these innocent people?

They had bright lives ahead of them. They had families waiting for them to come home. They had hopes. They had dreams.

Is anything really worth killing dozens of defenseless men and women? Raping the women before peppering them with bullets?

Did you not come from your mother’s nurturing womb? Are you even human? Can you sleep at night knowing what you have done?

Why did you have to do it? Money? Fame? Power?

Was it really worth it? Tell me, because I cannot fathom the depth of your beastly and repugnant souls.

 

I am Krista.

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So what if he’s married?

So what if his wife cries on TV because of me?

So what if he has four kids?

So what if I ruin my daddy’s honor?

So what if they call me a home wrecker?

So what if they call me a gold digger?

So what if I become an embarrassment to my family?

So what if I’m a mistress?

So what if he’s ugly?

So what? So what? SO WHAT?

Inggit lang kayo dahil maganda ako, bata, maputi at kaakit-akit pa. Hmp!

 

I am Korina.

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How great it would have been if he proposed to me in a lush garden somewhere in Tagaytay rather than in a studio full of screaming people.

If only he reserved those tears for a more intimate venue.

How beautiful a wedding it would have been if it were held by the beach with only thirty of our favorite people in attendance.

If only I didn’t have to invite Kris Aquino and two hundred other people whom I disliked.

How utterly romantic it would have been if we were married three years before or after the presidential elections.

If only I didn’t have to be the laughing stock of women who are not nearly as successful and as intelligent as I am.

How happy would I have been if my husband didn’t want two birds in one stone by marrying me. On national TV.

Sigh. If only he loved me for me.