Rise Up: If fear is contagious, so is courage in the fight for justice

Those who suffer the most teach us how injustice inflicts deep pain and lasting agony. Those who rise, finding strength in hope, teach us about courage.

These are among the lessons we have learned from the victims of the war on drugs under former President Rodrigo Duterte. One of the Rise Up mothers said, “Do not expect that the pain will leave us. The pain will remain, and it is not because we are unforgiving. We seek justice as a way of healing.” Rise Up is an organization of the victims of Duterte’s war on drugs and human rights advocates, mostly from the ecumenical community.

The murder of loved ones creates memories that never fade. For many families, it was the darkest chapter of their lives—made even more painful by the poverty they already endured. The poor became easy targets because they were poor. Duterte understood that a broken justice system would not protect them or uphold their right to due process. They were scavengers, pedicab drivers, vendors, laundry workers—people surviving day-to-day, “isang kahig, isang tuka.” Many borrowed money with unjust interest just to pay for meals and utilities.

It has not been an easy struggle. Some members of Rise Up have died from illness, never seeing justice in their lifetime. They passed away burdened by poverty and lack of medical care. Still, mothers, fathers, and loved ones refused to accept that nothing could be done. They held on to the belief that something can be done. Amid vulnerability, threats to their safety, and lack of resources, they found the strength to continue.

Like the persistent widow in the Gospel, they engaged institutions, such as Congress, spoke with church leaders, and joined public protests calling for truth, justice, and accountability. They supported one another—documenting cases, sharing resources, and helping each other through personal hardship. Because the Duterte government was responsible for the war on drugs, it had no real interest in pursuing justice for its own actions. With the help of lawyers, human rights organizations, faith-based groups, activists, artists, journalists, and concerned citizens, the families brought their case before the International Criminal Court (ICC).

On March 11, 2025, Duterte was detained at the ICC detention facility. Recently, the ICC affirmed its jurisdiction over the alleged crimes against humanity, followed by the confirmation of charges for trial. After years of waiting, justice finally seemed to move forward. The families could hardly contain their emotions—their long deferred hope was finally being recognized. Nanay Emily said, “I lost my son. I could not afford to lose justice.” The legal battle ahead will be long and difficult. But as Nanay Llore shared, “As long as I live, I will push for justice. And I am preparing my grandchildren to continue the fight.”

For the families of Rise Up, hope has become a source of strength. They believe in justice—that those responsible will be held accountable, that such pain will not be inflicted on others again, and that poverty itself will be addressed through genuine social justice.

“If fear is contagious, so is courage,” says Sheerah, a sibling of a victim of killing in 2017. The families acknowledged that fear is always around and within. The terror of Duterte’s war on drugs made their knees tremble. Yet they choose to remember their loved ones who were killed; they choose to rise up and struggle for justice. They believe that justice—and justice alone—is a way to healing. The ICC is but an arena and an instrument for justice. The wider public, the movement of people who would stand up with the victims for justice would be another.

Dss. Norma P. Dollaga,
kasimbayan.ecumenical@gmail.com

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