*Note this story is in Tagalog
Napabuntong-hininga si Leoncio. Panahon na ng mga batong simbahan at mga kalesa ngunit sa lahat ng
modernong hiwaga ay mukhang wala pa ring gamot sa madaling paglipas ng oras. Siya’y napatingin muli
sa kalyeng gawa sa cobblestone at nanalangin na dumating ang kanyang karwahe sa lalong madaling
panahon.
Tigidig – Tigidig – Tigidig – Tigidig
Narinig na ata siya ng diyos at bumati sa kanyang tainga ang hindi maipagkakamaling tunog ng kanyang
karwahe na kanina pa niyang sabik na hinihintay. Baka sa ngayong pagkakataon ay makakauwi na siya sa
oras at masasamahan ang kanyang pamilya kumain ng hapunan.
Nakasabit ang maputlang buwan sa taas ng kalangitan habang pasakay si Leoncio sa kanyang karwahe.
Binati niya ang kanyang kutsero at sinabihan na uuwi na siya sa kanyang bahay. Ito ang kanyang pang
araw-araw na gawi at mukhang wala namang maiiba sa normal hanggang sa may isang estrangherong
kumaway at nais na kausapin ang may-ari ng karwahe.
Nakiusap ang estranghero kay Leoncio na payagan siya makisakay sa karwahe. Madilim na raw kasi at
kinakatakot niya ang mapanganib na daan. Minasahe ni Leoncio ang gilid ng kanyang noo at natandaan
niya ang isang kasabihan na inuulit ng kanyang lolo “Ang diyos ay patas, hindi niya kakalimutan ang
ginawa mo at ang pagmamahal na pinakita mo sa kanya sa pagtulong ng kanyang mga tao at sa patuloy
na pagtulong sa kanila.”
Hindi niya nais mahuli sa hapunan ng kanyang pamilya ngunit hindi rin niya maiwan ang taong ito na
nangangailangan. May takot siya sa diyos at alam niyang merong nasa kaitaasan na nanonood sa kanya.
Nang may konting pag-aatubili, tumabi si Leoncio at inalok ang estranghero na umupo sa tabi niya sa
karwahe.
“Pansin ko isa kang relihiyoso,” sabi ng estranghero, tinapos ang katahimikan.
“Siguro, oo,” hinawakan ni Leoncio ang krus na suot niya sa kanyang leeg. “Nakagawian ko na siguro,”
kanyang sagot.
“Relihiyoso din ako dati.”
“Dati?”
Hindi preparado si Leoncio para sa ganitong usapan. Pagod na siya galing sa trabaho at ‘di niya nais
makipagdaldalan sa isang estranghero na nakilala niya pa lang sampung minutong nakalipas.
“Matagal na rin ‘yun, baka ayaw mo rin mapakinggan.”
Ngunit malakas na pwersa ang kuryosidad.
“Bakit hindi mo ikwento sa ’kin?”
Nagsimula ang lahat sa gabing tulad nito. Ang araw ay naglaho na at ang mga bituin ay nagsimula na
magsipaglaro. Iisa lamang akong munting magsasaka, pauwi ng bahay matapos ng isang nakakapagod na
araw mula sa trabaho sa pamilihan.
Mapagdasal ako dati, laging naniniwala na may plano para sa akin ang diyos.
Nang makauwi na ako sa bahay, alam kong may kaduda-duda. Nakabukas ang pinto at hindi ako binati ng
aking asawa. Kinatakot ko ang aking mahahanap.
Binati ako ng katawan ng aking pamilya na nakabalandra sa sala. Mukhang hinimasok ang aming bahay
ng mga tulisan at pinagtataga ang aking pamilya.
Napuno ang aking loob-looban ng luha ng galit at kalungkutan at sa sandaling iyon ay isinumpa ko ang
pangalan ng diyos sa kaitaasan. Hindi ako magiging parte ng kahit anong planong nais saktan ang aking
pamilya.
At noong araw na iyon, umalis ako sa aking bahay sa bukid na naglalagablab ng galit.
Hindi na siya ang aking diyos at pumunta ako sa iba upang humingi ng tulong ipaghiganti ang aking
pamilya.
Hindi alam ni Leoncio kung ano ang dapat niyang sabihin. Nanatili siyang nakatitig, nakatunganga, sa
estranghero na katabi niya.
“Iyon lamang ang una sa aking nararaming kalapastanganan, at hindi rin ito ang magiging huli.”
Parang may kumukulo sa loob-loob ni Leoncio, gusto niyang sabihin sa kutsero na tumigil, na itapon ang
estranghero palabas ng karwahe, ngunit parang siya rin ay nasa ilalim ng isang trance.
Kung kaya’t ipinagpatuloy ng estranghero ang kanyang kwento.
Pumunta ako sa mga lugar na hinawakan ng dilim, yung nakalimutan na ng mga naka-robe na
kalalakihan. Handa ako gawin ang lahat para mahanap ang pumatay sa aking pamilya, handa akong
bayaran anumang halaga.
Nagdemanda sila sa akin ng mga bagay na wala akong lakas na sabihin, dahil sa ala-ala nito ay
napapaiyak pa rin ako ng mapait na luha. Ngunit ito ay tiniis ko, oo.
Hindi ko kailangan ng kahit sino. Minsan sa gabi, natatandaan ko ang aking mga magulang at napapaisip
kung ano ang kanilang reaksyon sa aking mga nagawa, pero dinuraan ko ang kanilang ala-ala. Ito lamang
ang paraan upang managot sila sa kanilang ginawa.
Dahil matapos ang lahat-lahat, mayroon akong bagong mga diyos na nagbigay sakin ng sigasig sa
pagkuha ng aking paghihiganti.
Gumuhit ako ng mga idolo sa kanilang imahe upang mas mapakinabangan ko ang kanilang
kapangyarihan at pinatili na malapit ang mga ito sa akin. Ang kanilang mga bulong ang siyang nadadala
sa akin ng pinagpalang pagtulog bawat gabi.
Aking binalewala ang Araw ng Sabbath, dahil ano naman ang gamit sa akin nito noon? Wala na akong
naririnig na hipokritong pari at ang kanilang mapanlasong salita, wala nang pagluhod sa pew at pagdasal
ng mga bagay na hindi naman darating.
Buo ako sa kanilang presensya. Sa aking binyag ng dugo, nalaman ko kung saan ako dapat pumunta.
Ginabay ako ng kanilang mga bulong tungo sa isang kweba sa kalaliman ng isang gubat. Doon, nakarinig
ako ng tawanan at musika mula sa labi ng mga tulisan na nagnakaw ng aking pamilya.
Natapos ito sa isang tibok ng puso.
Iniwan ko isa sa kanila ng buhay na may patalim sa isang kamay at sinabi sa isang guardia civil na may
narinig ako na komosyon mula sa kweba. Napakadaling isisi sa kanya ang pagkamatay ng kanyang
kasamahan. Dahil sino ba naman ang maniniwala sa salita ng isang tulisan?
Pero sino ba naman ako upang manghusga? May kinuha ako sa kanila bilang pananda sa aking sarili ng
kalupitan ng tao, isang sensilyo na siguradong ninakaw nila mula sa isang kawawang kaluluwa.
Alam ko na hindi nito maibabalik ang aking pamilya. Ngunit nabubulag sa kintab ng pilak kahit ang
pinakamarangal na tao.
Nakalimutan ko na lahat ay merong kabayaran at ang mga pinaniwalaan kong tumulong sa akin ay handa
nang mangolekta.
Sinubukan kong tumako. Maniwala ka, wala na akong ibang gugustuhin pa kundi umuwi sa aking bahay,
napapalibutan ng aking pamilya. Tumakbo ako tungo sa bahay ng aking kapitbahay at humingi ng tulong
pero alam kong wala siyang tulong na maibibigay sa akin.
Ang huling bagay sa aking isipan bago nila pilasin ang aking balat mula sa aking dugo’t laman ay kung
gaano ko gusto ang bahay ng aking kapitbahay. Kung gaano ko gusto maging ligtas at kumportable sa
yakap ng pamilya na nasa loob.
Siyam na beses ko iniulit ang mga pangyayaring ito. Yung patalim, yung katakot-takot na imahe, at ang
pagbigo ng kasunduan na inilatag ng iyong diyos.
Nahirapan maghanap ng salita si Leoncio. Mula tao, ang estranghero ay naging isang nilalang na
mukhang kalansay, ang kanyang damit ay gulanit.
“Siya nga pala. Alam mo kung saan ang pinakamalapit na simbahan?”
Tinuro ni Leoncio ang kanyang daliri tungo Timog, sa direksyon ng simbahan ng Molo. Sa sunod na kurap
ng kanyang mata, wala na ang estranghero at ere na lang ang natira kung saan siya nakaupo.
Sa gabing iyon, rinig ang mga hiyaw ni Leoncio kahit ilang kilometro kalayo sa paligid at kumalat ang
alamat ng Siyam-siyam sa Iloilo.
*Sa gitna hanggang dulo ng ika-19 dantaon sa Iloilo, may mga manlalakbay sa gabi na nakasakay sa
kabayo o karwahe na nagkwento na nakasalamuha sila ng isang multo. Noong una, yung multo ay
mukhang normal na tao at nakiusap na makisakay sa mga manlalakbay. Ngunit habang naglalakbay,
kakausapin nito ang kasakay niya at ipapagtapat sa kanila ang siyam na kasalanan na ginawa niya ng
siyam na beses. Sunod, ang multo ay magmumukhang kalansay na may suot na damit na gulanit at
magtatanong kung saan ang pinakamalapit na simbahan at maglalaho habang humihiyaw o tumitili ang
naiwan na manlalakbay. Sa isang kwento, nakahanap ng kapayapaan ang Siyam-Siyam noong nakahanap
ito ng isang pari.
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Leoncio sighed deep. It was the era of stone churches and horse drawn carriages, but it seemed that with all those modern marvels time was still running out. He glanced once more at the cobblestone street and prayed that his carriage would arrive soon.
Tigidig – Tigidig – Tigidig – Tigidig
God must have finally heard him and the telltale sound of his carriage greeted his ears with fervent anticipation. Maybe this time he would make it in time to join his family for dinner.
The pale moon hung high in the sky as Leoncio boarded the carriage. He greeted his driver and told him that he was headed home. It was his daily routine and things seemed to be going normally until a stranger waved his arms and asked to speak with the owner of the carriage.
The stranger begged Leoncio for a lift, it was dark and he was afraid of the treacherous road. Leoncio rubbed his temples and remembered a verse that his grandmother would repeat “God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them.”
He didn’t want to be late to have supper with his family, but he couldn’t leave a person in need. He was a God-fearing man and knew that there was someone up there, watching.
With a hint of reluctance Leoncio moved and offered the man a seat in his carriage.
It was going to be a long night.
“I see you’re a religious man,” the stranger said, breaking the silence.
“I guess I am,” Leoncio clutched the cross around his neck. “A force of habit I guess,” he replied.
“I was a religious man too.”
“Was?”
Leoncio felt unprepared for this conversation. He was tired from the day’s work and would rather not have to engage in petty small talk with a stranger he had just met ten minutes ago.
“It was a long time ago, you probably don’t want to hear about it.”
But curiosity is a strong force.
“Why don’t you tell me about it?”
It was a night much light this. The sun had faded and the stars began to play their games. I was a lowly farmer, headed home after a hard day’s work in the market.
I was a prayerful man, always believing the Lord had a plan for me.
As I reached my house I knew something was amiss. The door was hanging open and my wife did not greet me. I feared the worst.
I was greeted by the bodies of my family sprawled across the living room. It seemed that robbers had broken in and put them to the knife.
Tears of sadness and rage filled me and it was then that I cursed the name of the Lord, most high. I would not be part of any plan that sought to do my family harm.
And that day I left my farmhouse in a blaze of anger.
He was no longer my God and I turned to others to help me avenge my family.
Leoncio didn’t know what to say. He stared, mouth agape, at the stranger beside him.
“That was the first of my many misdeeds, but it wouldn’t be the last.”
Something was bubbling inside Leoncio, he wanted to tell the driver to stop, to throw the stranger out of the carriage, but it seemed that he too was in a trance.
And thus did the stranger continued on with his tale.
I went to the places touched by the dark, to those forgotten by the men in robes. I would have done anything to find those that killed my family, I would have paid any price.
They demanded things I dare not speak aloud, for the memory still makes me weep bitter tears. But endured them, I did.
I needed no one. Sometimes in the night I would remember my parents and wonder what they would have thought of my actions, but I spat at their memory. This was the only way to make them pay for what they had done.
And when all was said and done, I had new gods who gave me the zeal to take my revenge.
I carved idols in their image to better gain their power and kept them close to me. Their whispers carried me off to blessed sleep every night.
I ignored the Sabbath day, for what use was it to me then? No more hearing the hypocritical friars and their words of venom, no more sitting at the pews praying for things that would not come.
I was whole in their presence. In my baptism of blood, I knew where I should go.
Their whispers lead me to a cave hidden deep within the forest. It was there I heard laughter and music on the lips of the men that took my family from me.
It was over in a heartbeat.
I left one of them alive with a knife in his hand and told the guardia civil that I had heard a commotion from the cave. It was all too easy to blame the man for the deaths of his compatriots. Who would believe a thief?
Though who am I to judge? I took something from them to remind myself of the cruelty of man, a single coin that they had no doubt stolen from another poor soul.
It would not bring my family back, that much I knew. But the glint of silver blinds even the most righteous men. I took it and fled to the forest.
I had forgotten that everything came at a price, and those that I believed had helped me were ready to collect.
I tried to run, believe me I wanted nothing more than to be back in my house, surrounded by my family. I ran to a neighbor’s house and asked for help, but I knew he could give me none.
My last thoughts before they ripped the skin from my flesh was how I wanted my neighbor’s house. To be safe and warm in the embrace of the family inside.
And I relived those events nine times. The knife, the craven images, breaking the covenants set by your god.
Leoncio struggled to find words. The stranger had suddenly turned from a man into a skeletal being, its clothes in tatters.
“By the way, my good man. Where is the nearest church?”
Leoncio pointed to the south, in the direction of Molo church. He blinked and the stranger was gone, an empty seat was all that remained.
That night Leoncio’s screams could be heard for miles around as the legend of Siyam-Siyam was spread throughout Iloilo.
*In mid to late 19th century Iloilo, travelers on horseback or carriage told of encountering a restless spirit at night. The spirit at first appeared as a normal human and asked to hitch a ride. On the way it would talk casually and confess of its nine sins that it committed nine times. Then the hitchhiker will turn into a skeleton in tatters and ask for the nearest church and disappear while the travelers screamed their heads off. In one story, Siyam-Siyam finally found peace when he encountered a friar.
=————————-=
Based on the Siyam-Siyam myth from Iloilo
Siyam-siyam Illustration by Justine André Villapa
Instagram: @art.justineandrev