The Womb

Last night I watched the local show XXX hosted by Pinky Webb and Anthony Taberna. The featured show was about an old woman in her late 80’s imprisoned by her own daughter and son-in-law. The scenes were heart breaking. The videos taken from the window of a neighbor were not as vivid but it would clearly display how the geriatric was maltreated. The scene was very inhumane for the old woman was placed in some sort of cage. In the middle of approximately two-square meter cage was a bare white plywood where the old woman would sit and lay to sleep. The cage has a padlock. From the footage of the hidden camera set up after the incident was reported by a concerned neighbor, you will see her frail face. Her old hands clinging in the cold bars and shaking it as if she wants to break free. At some point of the video the daughter was reaching and smashing her with a broom yelling at her to lie down. She stood up weakly trying to be elusive of the whips. The most disheartening scene was when the son-in-law took a mop stick and hit the old woman in the knees, the hands and in the stomach! Each strike creates a cry of pain from her audible enough for you to pull the trigger if you were a sniper pointing your gun at the beast attacking a defenseless, superannuated, senile Mother. I normally shed a tear when I see old people desperately surviving the cruelty of old age. This time I felt infuriated by this two people thinking what could their Mother have done to deserve this kind of ill-treatment. The old woman was rescued and sent to Golden Acres -a home for the aged people in the Philippines. She then had a conversation with one of the Social workers while eating a piece of bread. When asked about why her daughter treated her that way, she seemed to forget all the pain she obtained from the psychologically ill couple. Lola has an Alzheimer’s disease. I felt relieved, somehow, knowing that she doesn’t have any memory about the pain inflicted on her. She casually said “ganun sila eh…”.When the show had ended, I imagined my folks being shriveled and weak. My tears cascaded feeling my heart squeezed by the emotion that streamed within me. I imagined  my very own Mother whose womb was my first cradle, from her body I took my first breath of life, from her hands I learned the way of life and from her embrace I learned the meaning of love, being old, weak, wrinkled in her second childhood. It’s a sight I refuse to behold nonetheless will happen. I will let her feel the love she had given me since I had the first beat of my heart. Make her feel dear and so loved that she would forget all the pains and sorrows of bringing me up.


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