Reaping from his return to Law

He combs his still damp hair. Unsatisfied with his looks, he poured additional gel to his palm and applied
from front to back. He combed again. Better now. He heard his wife, humming their favourite Maranao
song while preparing the table for breakfast. He smells the aroma of a freshly roasted native coffee
being brewed. His stomach growled. He buttoned his shirt and walked to the table. He smiled.
They take their breakfast of raw camote. He drained it with cold water from a nearby stream. His
stomach complains. Hes still wanting more. But they cant return to their lair. The military is combing
the area, looking for them.
Its been three days since the military launched its offensive. They were spotted while scurrying for food.
They were shot. Some of his men fell, some were able to run and hide. The military are relentless.
Automatic burst of fire is everywhere. He admits, the military have better training, better arms, and are
better fed. They have no choice but to retreat, leaving their wounded, much so their dead. Their number
thinned. They cant afford to have another encounter. Many of his men are wounded, tired and hungry.
He finished his meal. He is satisfied of his breakfast of hot rice, fried dried fish, boiled egg and coffee.
He kissed his wife, grab her hand and together they climbed to their waiting AUV. Its tires screeched as
he floored the gas. He expertly manoeuvred the vehicle along the narrow road. He looked at his wife.
Trying to depict fear. She smiles instead.
One night in October, he visited his family. Its near midnight, and the moon was young. The door opens
after its third knock. He saw his wife, smiling, with hope in her eyes. His heart melts. Realization swept
him. His sons and daughters are growing up without him most of the time. His wife was hoping for him
to give up his fight. To lay down his arms. To return to them. To till their land.
They are now on the vicinity of their farm. He have planted durian, lanzones, coconut, upland rice, tapol
or upland malagkit, black rice, corn. All organic. The harvest festival for his palayamanan project were
just concluded. He silently thanked Allah for helping him gain the trust of the government. He is an
active advocate of Diversified Integrated Organic farming. He volunteered portion of his land to be a
learning site so his men can learn and harvest more, earn more.
He dreamt to help his men. Not by always giving and sharing his harvest, but through education. By
teaching them how to live through their sweat. To improve their land. He knew it is an uphill battle. He
has no power. His resources is limited. Government programs never reached their place. Non
Government Organizations deliberately avoided them. They do not listen to him. He made his decision.
He will run for Barangay Captain.
I, Malic Macabato, of Barangay Tingintingin, Kauswagan, Lanao del Norte, do solemnly swear, to do my
duty, as duly elected ABC Presidentso help me God.