Present-Day EJK: When the Law Repeats Its Losses

On August 2, 2023, 17-year-old Jerhode "Jemboy" Baltazar was cleaning his boat when he was killed by Navotas police on account of mistaken identity.

Unfortunately, this loss is far from an isolated case.

Former President Rodrigo Duterte's War on Drugs gained infamy as it resulted in a total of 6,241 deaths over the course of his six-year term. Among the war's casualties were Carl Angelo Arnaiz, Reynaldo "Kulot" de Guzman, and Kian Loyd delos Santos, teenagers themselves. All these different people lead different lives but came to the same devastating end: killed for no apparent reason, unable to defend themselves, or even die with the dignity they deserved. Now, seven years since Duterte took office, the uniformed ghosts of his past still haunt the country.

The irony in authority taking the lives they were tasked to protect is more than just a punchy logline for a noir indie flick. It is a disheartening reality that effectively captures the current state of justice in the Philippines: on the brink of non-existence. If raining bullets on suspected criminals is excusable because those who did so were just "doing their job", then maybe we should start fearing what else their job makes them capable of doing. Under the law, we are all equal. But between an indifferent armed officer and a suspicious individual, there's only one coming out of the corner alive.

What, then, is justice, if not the hand holding the gun?

Perhaps the natural reaction to Jemboy's death would be anger. Indignance. But more than anything, there is a sadness that comes with knowing that this was not an unprecedented scenario. Within the pages of our history are entire chapters stained with blood— senseless acts of violence carried out at the expense of the masses. What makes his death more devastating is the fact that it is not unfamiliar. We have seen this exact situation play out before— young people, oftentimes their family's breadwinners, shot to death without so much as a warning. Sons, fathers, and husbands: the victims of a merciless system that claims to restore peace yet leaves families mourning an untimely loss.

Nevertheless, the familiarity does not make the grief any less diminished, if anything, it only amplifies it.

The impunity police officers enjoy is one borne out of the barbarity and the lack of accountability of Duterte's drug war, but it certainly did not die there. Extrajudicial killings continue to target marginalized individuals living in the country's poorest communities, heightening international vigilance on the rising number of human rights abuses in the Philippines. Despite the growing death toll, little justice has been served to the martyrs of police violence. Their deaths remain a chilling testament to what happens when we do not learn from history.

Jemboy did not go out of his house that morning expecting a bullet to the head while cleaning his boat. He had dreams. He had hopes. But it only took one wrong assumption to wipe that all away.

It begs the question: who, now, is the true criminal?