A DEADLY SCREAM OF A CHILD BURNT BY HUMAN RIGHTS OF AN ADDICT
28 March 2025
Foreword by Policarpio Villagracia Dingal
Thank you Bob Rances. War on drugs is also my figth because I petty those who are roaming on the streets (her in IliganCity) so dirty with so long un-combed hair and when the parents are asked about it, their answer is drug addiction. Let us minimize this menace on humanity and the best way is destroy the flow of drug trades though may cause some of the killings because drug traders are armed. But people in the human right sector just for publicity do not understand this menace. Thank you to an excellent testimony though you failed to save Marco.
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Article written by B Rob Rances
On the night of my birthday in 2003, I came across a tragedy I will never forget.
A boy named Marco—just a child—was burned alive by a drug addict over something as insignificant as a coin he refused to hand over.
We threw ourselves into the flames to put out the fire devouring his tiny body. His skin—still smoldering—was peeling with every movement as we wrapped him in whatever cloth we could find. I carried him in my arms, rushed to the car—a brand new one I had just gifted myself for my birthday.
But that day, it wasn’t a symbol of celebration. It became a desperate vessel for survival.
His scorched skin stuck to the leather seats, leaving behind not just burns, but a memory seared into the car—and into me. The smell, the silence between his screams, the urgency—it haunts.
Celina and I rushed him to the hospital—he was still breathing, but barely. His small body was covered in third-degree burns, his skin scorched beyond recognition.
Every breath he took was a cry of pain.
He screamed through the agony, “Mamatay na ‘ko, ‘Kol? Mamatay na ko!”—words that tore through me as I drove, trying to hold myself together.
When we arrived, the doctors tried to help, but even their slightest touch made him writhe in unbearable pain.
The private hospital told us the damage was too severe—his body couldn’t be treated there. They urged us to bring him to the Southern Mindanao Medical Center, what we used to call “the regional,” the only place with a proper burn unit.
They said he might have a better chance there.
But the suffering didn’t stop. It was a tragedy too massive for his young mind to understand, and too painful for ours to ever forget.
Marco was just seven years old.
As soon as then-Mayor Rodrigo Duterte heard about it, he immediately mobilized an investigation. But what we discovered in the following days was even more heartbreaking…
The culprit was just 14 years old—
a child himself, lost to the grip of drugs.
I still remember the conversation I had with Mayor Duterte. We both knew that sending a 14-year-old to prison wouldn’t solve anything. Instead, he ensured that the boy was taken into proper custody, given the chance for rehabilitation, and, hopefully, a different path in life.
But Marco—he never got another chance.
For 19 days in the ICU, Marco fought through pain no child should ever endure.
Every two to three days, he had to undergo surgery—because that was how damaged his body was.
But in between the moments of pain, I got to know him.
He told me about the toys he liked, his dreams of finishing school, his love for the grandmother who was raising him and his siblings despite her old age.
He had plans.
He had dreams.
And all of it was taken from him in the most brutal way imaginable.
This is why I understand Duterte’s cause.
Before he became president, Davao was proof that peace and order were possible with the right leadership.
For years, we lived in a city where criminals thought twice before committing a crime—where children like Marco could have had a chance at life.
But drugs? Drugs destroy that chance.
And that’s why when Duterte launched his war on drugs, I supported him. Because I knew what he was fighting against. I had seen the consequences with my own eyes.
For those who accuse him of crimes against humanity, I ask you:
Where was your outrage for children like Marco?
Where was your voice when families lived in fear because of drug-fueled violence?
When communities were destroyed, when young lives were wasted, when parents lost their children—not just to death, but to addiction?
Duterte’s war on drugs was not just his fight—
It was mine.
It was ours.
It was every mother, father, teacher, neighbor, and friend who had seen firsthand what drugs can do.
We supported it.
We approved of it.
And we were grateful for it, because finally, someone had the courage to take on the menace that so many before him refused to confront.
So on his birthday, I don’t just celebrate the man—I honor the fight he took on for all of us.
Because justice is above all—about PROTECTING THE INNOCENT.
It’s about making sure that children like Marco are given a chance to live, dream, and grow up in a country that values their safety above all else.
And for that, we thank you, PRRD. 🇵🇭
