It is a painful irony that we only try to stop criminals when they’ve already managed to murder someone. Are we actually more concerned about catching criminals than stopping crime at the root?
On June 25, authorities declared 17-year-old Louelle Acaylar missing. The next day, a child found her dead body decomposing in Zone 3, Barangay Pasobolong. On July 27, at 9:00 PM, PNP Barangay Culianan caught two suspects for her rape-slay. By July 30, a Barangay Patalon kagawad was shot and found dead off a bridge at Sinubong. When July 31 came, Sheene Celeste was shot and murdered at Guadalupe Street, Barangay Tetuan.
It was only on August 1, at 8:00 PM, did officials finally decide to prop up checkpoints en masse. Cue the applause for an unbelievably quick reaction time of more than one week.
As if they had only just realized they needed to man up, ZC authorities set up checkpoints around the city. Apparently, urgent crime reduction looks like asking cars to roll down their windows. Apparently, being “tough on crime” means asking motorists to show their licenses. Beyond nabbing the occasional traffic violator, do these initiatives remedy the bigger crime problem?
Last Thursday, IFM Zamboanga posted a similar question on their Facebook page for netizens to comment on and answer: “For you, are we still safe here in Zamboanga City?” Among the 1.2 thousand replies and 260 shares, a single sentiment sharpened into focus.
“[Zamboanga City is] not safe anymore, especially for our family… Maluya kasi ang mga leaders… Please do something.” Every commenter, both those grieving out of loss and angered by the clear spike in crime, voiced out the same concern. Indeed, many feel that no one is out to protect us Zamboangueños.
Most wounds scar and never fully heal. Louelle and Sheene had dreams they wished to achieve. Their friends and families had expected to spend time with them even more. They never would have expected to be hugging their white caskets instead. Their deaths do not end at just their funerals—their loved ones carry that grief for the rest of their lives. After all this, what’s next?
For the vast majority of people, crime is an abstract concept. To most, the stories of victims are just that—stories they cry over, seethe over, and then inevitably get over. Victims, though, survive with painfully perfect memories of that night. They shy away from the touch of friends and family. They fight the urge to flee at the slightest hint of conflict. There is no easy way to forget. There is no quick shortcut to ‘move on.’
Crime is a thought and an idea that we’d consume in 5 minutes. Like this article you’re reading now. To victims, it’s trauma that consumes them for a lifetime.
We should all refuse to forget the hurt because only in remembering do we say, “Enough.” Enough empty promises and enough photoshoots of showmanship. When we remember, we realize that Louelle was someone’s child, someone’s sister, and someone’s friend. When we refuse to forget, we refuse to let local officials get away with doing too little, too late.
Lower motorcycle speed limits and put in place more permanent checkpoints for motorists. Install CCTV cameras at crime hotspots and increase marine visibility in the city. In attempts to deter crime, it’s a responsibility for us, the normal citizens, to pressure LGUs to ask the tough questions: “Why do people commit crimes? What can we do to stop them?”
Let’s be honest—criminal activity is never going away. The question posed to our LGUs is not to stop all crime until we live happily ever after. It is, after all, the real world where real people face real problems that have real and painful consequences.
The first step to solving ZC’s crime problem is realizing that magic-wand checkpoints will not cut it. The second is amping up the pressure on the authorities to actually do their job. Maybe then, we wouldn’t need to worry if we were to be the subject of the next tragic crime story in the news.
