*Note this story is in Aklanon

Nabatyagan ko ro kaeamig it saesaeon ku siyaw nga nagaduot sa akong panit.

Nag-umpisa raya ku 5:30 it hapon. Ro hampang nga basketbol hay owa man magbuhay ag ginapauli ako it timprano ku akong nanay ngani pinaspasan ko ro pagpadueong sa baeay. Ro huni hay mahinay, apang bation nga mayad. Tumueok ako sa akong tuo ag kat hakita ko ro puno it santoe hay sayod ko eon kon ano rato.

“Wak….wak…..wak….”

Bati ko gid nga mayad ro tunog sa akong mga dueunggan ag gulpi eamang hay habatian ko man ro mga limog it akong lolo ag lola, “Kon ro huni it wakwak hay mabaskug buot-hambaeon karon hay maeayo ron imaw, apang magdahan ka kon mahinay ro limog kara, bangod ro buot-hambaeon karon hay maeapit eang imaw ra nga mayad.” Maemae ro akong kakueba kat sumueod eon ako sa baeay.

Ro puno it santoe hay una git-a pa man sa ibabaw it hueot ku akong mga ginikanan, ngani sayod ko nga hikita ko gid kon may una gid man idto nga mailaan du wakwak. Kat hakita ko ro akong nabdos nga nanay nga nagapamantaw it TV, sayod ko eon. Ro away hay nag-umpisa eon.

Nagpaeangumang ako sa pagbuoe it siyaw sa kusina, matsa kaugan kara sa akong alima, bangod siguro nga sayod ko kon ano ro akong ubrahon. Tinago ko ro siyaw sa akong shorts, ag lumingkod kaiping ni nanay, hinueat ko ro pagguwa it puea nga dila ku halimaw.

Humueat ko.

Naghilinueat ko.

Mga 30 minuto akong gabilinantay. 30 minuto asta ako hay gumuwa sa liwan padueong sa puno it santoe agud pamatian kon una pa ro limog.

Hinueat ko ag daya hay owa eon.

Asta makaron, gusto kong isipon nga habatyag it tinuga nga ako hay haum sa pagsukoe ag ro akong nanay hay indi basta-basta nga hikaon. Apang ginakilinuebaan man gihapon ako sa kada pagtueok ko sa puno it santoe, naga-eaum nga hibatian ro kanamiton nga falsetto nga

“Wak…..wak…..wak….”

=——————-=

English Version

I could feel the cold steel of the knife pressing against my skin.

It started at 5:30 pm. The basketball game didn’t take too long and my mom wanted me home early so I rushed home as soon as I could. The sound was faint, but very distinct. I looked towards my right and when I saw the santol tree I knew exactly what it was.

“Wak….wak…..wak….”

The sound rang in my ears and suddenly I was hit with my grandparents voices, “If the wakwak sound is loud then that means the creature is far, but be careful if the voice is soft, for that means it is very near.” My blood ran cold the moment I entered the house.

The santol tree was right above the bedroom of my parents, so I knew I had to see if there was anything there that the wakwak might want. When I saw my pregnant mother watching TV, that’s when I knew. The fight had begun.

I raced to the kitchen to get a knife, it felt light in my hand, probably because I was sure of what I had to do. I hid the knife in my shorts, and sat next to my mother, waiting for the moment the monster would let loose its red tongue.

I waited.

I waited.

It was 30 minutes that I stayed on guard. 30 minutes until I ventured outside to the santol tree to hear if the voice persisted.

I waited and it was gone.

To this day, I’d like to think the creature sensed that I was ready for a fight and that my mother wouldn’t be easy prey. But there are still shivers down my spine every time I look at that santol tree, half expecting to hear a soft falsetto of

“Wak…..wak…..wak….”

=——————————-=

*Aklanon (Akeanon), also known as Bisaya/Binisaya nga Aklanon/Inaklanon or simply Aklan, is an Austronesian language of the Bisayan subgroup spoken by the Aklanon people in the province of Aklan on the island of Panay in the Philippines. Its unique feature among other Bisayan languages is the close-mid back unrounded vowel [ɤ] occurring as part of diphthongs and traditionally written with the letter ⟨Ee⟩ such as in the autonyms Akean and Akeanon. However, this phoneme is also present in other but geographically scattered and distant Philippine languages, namely Itbayat, Isneg, Manobo, Samal and Sagada.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Aklanon Translation by WJ Manares
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © WJ Manares

Inspired by a story told by Ian Quirante

Wak-wak Illustration by Ian Quirante
FB: Ian Quirante Illustrations

*Note this story is in Masbatenyo

Batyag ko an matugnaw na bakal na nakadikit saakon na panit.

” Nagtuna an tanan mga alas singko san kagab- ehun. Dili man gayod madugay an naging kanam sa bakestbolan kaya naka uli man dayun ako san atab lalo na kay nagtugon si mama na mag- uli gaud san atab. Kaya nag dali- Dali man ako Pauli. Miski maghinay lang an boses nababatian ko gihapon ini kag aram ko na adi lang gaud sa halapit an nagatunog. Naglingi- lingi ako, paglingi ko sa tuo nakita ko an puno san santol kag didtu ko naaraman na didtu gaud nagahali an nagatunog kag adtu siya.

” Wak …wak….wak..”

Makaburungol na sa talinga an boses san aswang kag bigla nalang ako nakabalik saakon nga sadiri san nabatian ko naan boses ninda lola kag Lolo. ” Pag an huni gani san aswang graben tuda big sabihun sana huruharayo ina siya saimu pero maghimat ka kung an huni naman sana kay graben hinay kay ada lang ina sa halapit.” Nanugnaw na ako gaud sadtu sa sobra na kahadlok san pagsulod ko sa balay.

Nagdali- Dali ako dalagan pakadtu sa kusina para magkuha san kutsilyo, na magaan lang sa kamot paggamiton kay aram ko na gaud kung nanu an dapat pagahimuon sa mga oras na ini. In tago ko sa akon short an kutsilyu, kag umingkod ako sa katakin ni mama samtang nagahulat na magpakita an aswang na may huruhalaba na dila.

Naghinulat ako pira ka oras.

Nahuman an tryanta minutos sa pagabantay ko. Tryanta minutos ma. An in about bago ako magkadtu sa labas kag inkita didtu banda sa may santol kung adtu gihapon siya

Pero nawara na gali.

=——————————=

English Version

I could feel the cold steel of the knife pressing against my skin.

It started at 5:30 pm. The basketball game didn’t take too long and my mom wanted me home early so I rushed home as soon as I could. The sound was faint, but very distinct. I looked towards my right and when I saw the santol tree I knew exactly what it was.

“Wak….wak…..wak….”

The sound rang in my ears and suddenly I was hit with my grandparents voices, “If the wakwak sound is loud then that means the creature is far, but be careful if the voice is soft, for that means it is very near.” My blood ran cold the moment I entered the house.

The santol tree was right above the bedroom of my parents, so I knew I had to see if there was anything there that the wakwak might want. When I saw my pregnant mother watching TV, that’s when I knew. The fight had begun.

I raced to the kitchen to get a knife, it felt light in my hand, probably because I was sure of what I had to do. I hid the knife in my shorts, and sat next to my mother, waiting for the moment the monster would let loose its red tongue.

I waited.

I waited.

It was 30 minutes that I stayed on guard. 30 minutes until I ventured outside to the santol tree to hear if the voice persisted.

I waited and it was gone.

To this day, I’d like to think the creature sensed that I was ready for a fight and that my mother wouldn’t be easy prey. But there are still shivers down my spine every time I look at that santol tree, half expecting to hear a soft falsetto of

“Wak…..wak…..wak….”

=———————=

*Masbateño or Minasbate is a Bicol-Visayan language spoken by more than 600,000 people, primarily in the province of Masbate in the Philippines. It is very close to Capiznon, Hiligaynon/Ilonggo and Waray-Waray, all three spoken in Visayas. It is considered a Bisakol language, meaning a language intermediate between Visayan languages and Bicolano languages.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Masbatenyo Translation by Angel Papilosa
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Angel Papilosa

Inspired by a story told by Ian Quirante

Wak-wak Illustration by Ian Quirante
FB: Ian Quirante Illustrations

*Note this story is in Kapampangan

Aramdaman ke ing marimlang kutsilyu na papakat da keng kakung balat.

Meg-umpisang alas singku ning kaugtuwan. Mabilis yamung meyari ing pyalung a basketball, anya pebalikan na nakeng making maranun, anya mamirapal kung minuli keng peka agyu kung bilis.

Eya masyadong malino itang tunug, mayna yamu, pero eku antindyan.. balamu aliwa.. linawe ku keng kakung Kayli at anyang ikit ke ing tanaman a santol, balu kune nung nanu ne ita.

“Wak…wak…wak…”
Paulit ulit ya itang tunug na dadagungdung keng kakung balugbug na balamu daramdaman kula suwala reng kakung ingkung at apu. “Patye ing tunug masikan ya, ing buri ng sabyan nita ing wakwak malawut ya, pero dapat nakang mingat panga ing tunug bagya bagya yang mimina, kasi ing buri ng sabyan kanita malapit nemu kanta keka.” Mengarimla ku buong katawan kanitang mekalub naku bale.

Ing santol na atyu keng tapat dang kwartu dina maku, balu kung posibling atyu ya Karin itang wakwak. Anyang ikit ke ing kakung mabuktut a inda na manalbeng TV, kanita ku abalu. Megsimula ne ing laban.

Sigidu kung memulayi papunta keng kusina para kumang kutsilyu, ayneng kayan keng kakung gamat, siguru uling sigurado ku keng kakung gawan. Selikut ke ing kutsilyu keng kakung syort, at linukluk ku keng siping ng maku, manenaya kung ustung oras na panga pepakit ne ning halimaw itang kayang malutung dila.
Manenaya ku..
Manenaya ku.

Kapitnang oras ku ring megbante. Kapitnang oras bayu ku linwal papunta ketang santol para pakiramdaman itang tunug.

Menenaya kupa kayi mewala ne itang tunug.

Manggaman ngeni, buri kunang isipan na aramdaman na ning alimaw na apag-adyan ku pamaglaban at ene agyung abiktima ing kakung inda. Pero keng aliwang banda, mangatakutan ku parin pag lalawe ku ketang santol, balamu atin ku paring daramdaman a mayna pero matinis na tunog.
“Wak….wak….wak…..”

=——————–=

English Version

I could feel the cold steel of the knife pressing against my skin.

It started at 5:30 pm. The basketball game didn’t take too long and my mom wanted me home early so I rushed home as soon as I could. The sound was faint, but very distinct. I looked towards my right and when I saw the santol tree I knew exactly what it was.

“Wak….wak…..wak….”

The sound rang in my ears and suddenly I was hit with my grandparents voices, “If the wakwak sound is loud then that means the creature is far, but be careful if the voice is soft, for that means it is very near.” My blood ran cold the moment I entered the house.

The santol tree was right above the bedroom of my parents, so I knew I had to see if there was anything there that the wakwak might want. When I saw my pregnant mother watching TV, that’s when I knew. The fight had begun.

I raced to the kitchen to get a knife, it felt light in my hand,
probably because I was sure of what I had to do. I hid the knife in my shorts, and sat next to my mother, waiting for the moment the monster would let loose its red tongue.

I waited.

I waited.

It was 30 minutes that I stayed on guard. 30 minutes until I ventured outside to the santol tree to hear if the voice persisted.

I waited and it was gone.

To this day, I’d like to think the creature sensed that I was ready for a fight and that my mother wouldn’t be easy prey. But there are still shivers down my spine every time I look at that santol tree, half expecting to hear a soft falsetto of

“Wak…..wak…..wak….”

=——————————————=

Inspired by a story told by Ian Quirante

Wak-wak Illustration by Ian Quirante
FB: Ian Quirante Illustrations

IG: https://www.instagram.com/iq_artworks/

Batyagan ko mangud ya pagdúot kang maramig nga sundang sa pánit ko.

Nagsugod ja kayang hapon kang alas singko y medya. Natapos bai timprano ya sipal namon mu karan nga si Nanay gina pa-uli’ du ko tulad. Apang samtang ga panaw ko pa-uli’, may nabati-an ko nga daw urangol pai hinay. Gin lisó ko ya ulo ko sa tu’ú kag kang nakita ko ya púno ka Santol, man’an ko run kung ano agtong nabatían ko.

“Wak.. wak.. wak….”

Gatagring nga huní sa taringa ko. Pai naaligmatan takón kang madumduman ko ya gin kuon kanakon kang mga katigulangan kauna. “Kung ya huní kang Wakwak matúnog, marayo day’á kanimo. Pai halong timo kung maghinay ana huní kai marapit du ran tana..”

Sa huná-huná ko samtang ga parang lápsi’on takón pasulod sa balay.

Ya sanga kang Santol nmon ga latay sa atup kang kwarto dai Nanay, muran makita ko gilayún kung may wakwak mangud o wara. Kang nakita ko ya gamabdos ko nga iloy garantaw ti TV, man’an ko run ano ana kinutuyó. Daw ma supúkay gid kami kara.

Dayon ko daragan pa kamalig kag bul’on ya sundang. Man’an ko run ya buhaton ko mu ja guro du kamag’an tana ti bit-biton. Tinago ko ya sundang sa bulsa ko kag nagpungko íngud kay Nanay samtang gahurat ka mga tini-ón nga magpakita ana marabog nga díla’.

Naghurat ko…

Kag naghurat…

Tungá’ dun sa oras nagdayon, tinak’an du ko kahurat mura nag panaw ko paagto sa puno kang Santol kag namati kung bati’on pa ti limog na.

Nadura dun ya huní na..

Asta tulad, gina binag-binag ko nga basi man’an ka wakwak nga batu-an ko gid tana kung biktímahun ya si Nanay. Pai di ko japon maributay kag gaparindog balahibu ko kada turok ko sa puno ka Santol. Inang bisán san’o, basí makabatí du man ko mahinay nga huní ka…

“Wak..wak..wak..”

=——————————————=

English Version

I could feel the cold steel of the knife pressing against my skin.

It started at 5:30 pm. The basketball game didn’t take too long and my mom wanted me home early so I rushed home as soon as I could. The sound was faint, but very distinct. I looked towards my right and when I saw the santol tree I knew exactly what it was.

“Wak….wak…..wak….”

The sound rang in my ears and suddenly I was hit with my grandparents voices, “If the wakwak sound is loud then that means the creature is far, but be careful if the voice is soft, for that means it is very near.” My blood ran cold the moment I entered the house.

The santol tree was right above the bedroom of my parents, so I knew I had to see if there was anything there that the wakwak might want. When I saw my pregnant mother watching TV, that’s when I knew. The fight had begun.

I raced to the kitchen to get a knife, it felt light in my hand,
probably because I was sure of what I had to do. I hid the knife in my shorts, and sat next to my mother, waiting for the moment the monster would let loose its red tongue.

I waited.

I waited.

It was 30 minutes that I stayed on guard. 30 minutes until I ventured outside to the santol tree to hear if the voice persisted.

I waited and it was gone.

To this day, I’d like to think the creature sensed that I was ready for a fight and that my mother wouldn’t be easy prey. But there are still shivers down my spine every time I look at that santol tree, half expecting to hear a soft falsetto of

“Wak…..wak…..wak….”

=——————————————=

*The Karay-a language, or Kinaray-a is an Austronesian regional language spoken by the Karay-a people, mainly in Antique in the Philippines, Iloilo and other provinces on the island of Panay, as well as portions of the SOCCSKSARGEN region in Mindanao. It is one of the Visayan languages, mainly along with Aklanon/Malaynon, Capiznon and Hiligaynon. As of 2015, there is an estimated 1,200,000 speakers of Kinaray-a with almost half of them are from Antique and Iloilo provinces.

Written by Karl Gaverza

Translation by Arj Horlador

Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Translation Copyright © Arj Horlador

Inspired by a story told by Ian Quirante

Wak-wak Illustration by Ian Quirante
FB: Ian Quirante Illustrations

IG: https://www.instagram.com/iq_artworks/

*Note this story is in Tagalog

Nararamdaman ko ang malamig na kutsilyo na nakadiin sa aking balat.

Nagsimula ito ng ika-5:30 ng hapon. Natapos kaagad ang laro ng basketball at nagmamadali ako dahil pinapauwi ako ng maaga ng aking nanay. Mayroon akong naririnig na mahinang tunog pero parang nakikilala ko ito. Tumingin ako sa aking kanan at sa puno ng santol nalaman ko ng tuluyan kung ano ito.

“Wak….wak….wak….”

Nagtagal ang tunog nito sa aking tenga at biglang naalala ko ang payo ng aking lolo’t lola, “Malayo ang Wak-wak kapag maingay ito, pero mag-alala ka kapag humina ang tunog nito, ibig sabihin malapit lang ito sa iyo.” Nanlamig ang buong katawan ko habang papasok ako sa bahay.

Ang puno ng santol ay nasa taas lamang ng tulugan ng aking mga magulang, kaya kailangan ko agad tingnan kung ano ang pinag-iinteresan ng Wak-wak. Noong nakita kong buntis yung nanay ko at nanonood siya ng TV, iyon yung puntong naintindihan ko ang lahat. Nagsimula na ang laban.

Tumakbo ako sa kusina para kumuha ng kutsilyo, magaan ito nang hinawakan ko, marahil ito ay sa kadahilanan na alam ko ang kinakailangan kong gawin. Tinago ko ito sa aking shorts, tumabi ako sa aking nanay, at naghihintay kung sakaling sumugod ang halimaw at ilabas ang pulang dila nito.

Naghintay ako nang naghintay.

Tatlumpong minuto akong nakabantay. Tatlumpong minuto rin bago ako lumabas para pakinggan kung nag-iingay pa rin ito.

Naghihintay ako pero wala akong naririnig.

Hanggang sa araw na ito, iniisip ko na baka naramdaman ng Wak-wak na handa akong lumaban at hindi agad mabibiktima ang aking nanay. Pero hanggang ngayon ako ay kinakabahan tuwing ako ay titingin sa puno ng santol, na baka may marinig ako na

“Wak….wak….wak….”

=————————————————————————-=

English version

I could feel the cold steel of the knife pressing against my skin.

It started at 5:30 pm. The basketball game didn’t take too long and my mom wanted me home early so I rushed home as soon as I could. The sound was faint, but very distinct. I looked towards my right and when I saw the santol tree I knew exactly what it was.

“Wak….wak…..wak….”

The sound rang in my ears and suddenly I was hit with my grandparents voices, “If the wakwak sound is loud then that means the creature is far, but be careful if the voice is soft, for that means it is very near.” My blood ran cold the moment I entered the house.

The santol tree was right above the bedroom of my parents, so I knew I had to see if there was anything there that the wakwak might want. When I saw my pregnant mother watching TV, that’s when I knew. The fight had begun.

I raced to the kitchen to get a knife, it felt light in my hand,
probably because I was sure of what I had to do. I hid the knife in my shorts, and sat next to my mother, waiting for the moment the monster would let loose its red tongue.

I waited.

I waited.

It was 30 minutes that I stayed on guard. 30 minutes until I ventured outside to the santol tree to hear if the voice persisted.

I waited and it was gone.

To this day, I’d like to think the creature sensed that I was ready for a fight and that my mother wouldn’t be easy prey. But there are still shivers down my spine every time I look at that santol tree, half expecting to hear a soft falsetto of

“Wak…..wak…..wak….”

=——————————————=

*Tagalog is an Austronesian language spoken as a first language by a quarter of the population of the Philippines and as a second language by the majority. Its standardized form, officially named Filipino, is the national language of the Philippines, and is one of two official languages alongside English.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Translation by Emman Bernardino
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Emman Bernardino

Inspired by a story told by Ian Quirante

Wak-wak Illustration by Ian Quirante
FB: Ian Quirante Illustrations

IG: https://www.instagram.com/iq_artworks/

I could feel the cold steel of the knife pressing against my skin.

It started at 5:30 pm. The basketball game didn’t take too long and my mom wanted me home early so I rushed home as soon as I could. The sound was faint, but very distinct. I looked towards my right and when I saw the santol tree I knew exactly what it was.

“Wak….wak…..wak….”

The sound rang in my ears and suddenly I was hit with my grandparents voices, “If the wakwak sound is loud then that means the creature is far, but be careful if the voice is soft, for that means it is very near.” My blood ran cold the moment I entered the house.

The santol tree was right above the bedroom of my parents, so I knew I had to see if there was anything there that the wakwak might want. When I saw my pregnant mother watching TV, that’s when I knew. The fight had begun.

I raced to the kitchen to get a knife, it felt light in my hand,
probably because I was sure of what I had to do. I hid the knife in my shorts, and sat next to my mother, waiting for the moment the monster would let loose its red tongue.

I waited.

I waited.

It was 30 minutes that I stayed on guard. 30 minutes until I ventured outside to the santol tree to hear if the voice persisted.

I waited and it was gone.

To this day, I’d like to think the creature sensed that I was ready for a fight and that my mother wouldn’t be easy prey. But there are still shivers down my spine every time I look at that santol tree, half expecting to hear a soft falsetto of

“Wak…..wak…..wak….”

————————–————————–————————––

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Inspired by a story told by Ian Quirante

Wak-wak Illustration by Ian Quirante
FB: Ian Quirante Illustrations