Mabini moves on, but scars of mass poisoning deep

By CHITO A. FUENTES

WHAT you eat can kill you. This was one lesson in the classroom that the children of San Jose Elementary School in Mabini town will never forget for the rest of their lives.

A few minutes after eating three kinds of cassava preparations on March 9 last year, more than half of the school's 276 pupils fell ill to what would later be attributed to chemical poisoning. When it was all over, 27 had died while 130 were confined in four government hospitals in Bohol 's worst food poisoning case ever. At the time, no one at the school knew what hit them. “It was so sudden,” recalled Rheo Tuyogon, 27, a grade 3 teacher. He said it was only minutes after the students went out of their classrooms for the morning break at 9:30 am when all hell broke loose. At first, Rolita Remerata, a grade 1 teacher, said she thought the children were “only play-acting.” It seemed like strange spirits possessed the children, recalled Sherryl Tuyogon, who handles grade 4 classes. Everyone panicked, however, when some of the children started vomiting. “Some of the teachers rubbed mentholated oil on the sick children while the others tried to massage their own pupils,” said Norma Ondap, 48, a grade 6 teacher.

Rush to hospital

After it became apparent that the children were poisoned, another teacher said some of the people in nearby houses asked the children to take either sugar or grated coconut meat. When things got out of hand, Rheo Tuyogon said he decided to take the children in his van to the “nearest” hospital in Ubay town, about 18 kilometers from San Jose. “I pitied the children because they were packed like sardines,” he narrated. The van can accommodate only 15 people but a total of 30 children were crammed inside, he said. Not all of the children were sick. Others who had also eaten cassava hopped in to help out during the nearly 30-minute trip. Tuyogon said some of the children were declared dead on arrival at the L.G. Cutamora Hospital in Ubay. Vehicles coming from neighboring places brought more ailing children to the Don Emilio del Valle Hospital in Ubay. Later batches were rushed to the Carlos P. Garcia Memorial Provincial Hospital in Talibon, 26 km away, because the two hospitals in Ubay were already full.

World watched

People were thrown into a state of panic when the children started dying one after the other. In a few hours, the mass poisoning tragedy attracted international attention. Foreign wire agencies gave detailed accounts, while cable TV reports regularly flashed the death toll on their screens. President Macapagal-Arroyo showed up in San Jose to condole with the families of the victims and visited at least one house, that of Celestino and Josefina Vallente who lost a son, Noel Isidore, 4. Even CNN carried the story in its website datelined “ SAN JOSE , Philippines ”.The next day, the mass burial of 12 of the victims was covered extensively by the national and international press. Images of poor folks grieving over the death of their innocent children as the world stared, moved many individuals and groups to do something for them. Donations, in cash and in kind, poured in both for the families of the victims as well as the school. One year later, however, only the people of San Jose and Mabini seemed to remember what had happened. When the Inquirer team visited the school on Tuesday, the pupils and their teachers were in the thick of preparations for the National Achievement Test (NAT). Others were simply playing.

Low-key observance

The teachers said there would be no elaborate program to mark the first anniversary of the mass poisoning. Mabini Mayor Stephen Rances said the low-key observance was intentional so the trauma of the children and their families would not be revived. Mass was scheduled to be held at the barangay cemetery on Thursday, said school principal Aprodecio Boyles, 52. “We will all go there,” Boyles said, referring to the children, the teachers, the families of the victims and most of the villagers. The tragedy has left an indelible mark on the lives of many people in many ways. One of the buildings houses a feeding center built from funds provided by the national and provincial government. During recess, Boyles said children no longer buy food from vendors but ate food served at the feeding center managed by the Home Economics teacher. While the Department of Education policy prohibiting vendors from selling food has long been in place, it was only after the mass poisoning that it has been strictly implemented, he said.

A “reduction of achievement” among the pupils was noted, Boyles said. Last year's NAT results showed a 3.66-percent decline in ratings compared to those in 2004. Enrolment dropped from 276 last year to 240 this school year-a consequence of the tragedy, the principal said. The teachers revealed that after the incident, people from San Jose were ribbed good-naturedly as “salin sa (left-over of) maruya (fried caramelized cassava)”.

Victims all

When a group of 29 children who gathered inside the Home Economics building were asked how many of them were hospitalized, they all 29 raised their hands. They were among the 130 survivors who were hospitalized for at least three days. When asked who among them had eaten maruya since then, only one girl, Floralie Galo, 8, raised her hand. Investigators looking into the mass poisoning had zeroed in on the maruya cooked and sold by vendor Ana Luyong. The 69-year-old vendor is facing charges of reckless imprudence resulting in multiple homicide, serious physical injuries and slight physical injuries. Luyong insists on her innocence and is contesting the charges filed against her before the Regional Trial Court Branch 51 based in Carmen town. A check with the court showed that the preliminary investigation of the case docketed as Criminal Case No. 0714, had yet to be completed. Its continuation is set for March 20.

Death up close

Undoubtedly, the tragedy has affected the lives of those who saw death up close. Joecel Vallente, 10, said she will never forget the incident for the rest of her life. She was still fighting for her life in the hospital when her brother Noel Isidore was buried. At first, Joecel said she thought a cruel joke was being played on her when she was told that her brother had died. “It was only when I saw the candle beside the bed that I cried,” she said in Cebuano. Maricris Cual, 9, shook her head when asked if she cried when she learned about the death of her younger brother Benjamin. Like Joecel, Maricris was in the hospital when her brother was buried. Can she forget the tragedy? Maricris stared at the open space and then shook her head. She nodded when asked if she would not forget Benjamin. She misses him, she said. Jerome Busbus, 10, lost a sister Judy Ann, 8. Asked if he cried when he first learned about her death, he bowed, then nodded. A forefinger stuck out to indicate that he cried only once.

Bitter memories

Dominga Peligrino, 9, was also in the hospital when her sister Pablita, 12, died and was buried. Asked the same questions as the rest, she lifted both arms until the fingers were intertwined and the palms rested on top of her head. She then shook her head. Those hands would stay there for the remainder of the brief interview, betraying her restlessness before a stranger. She is one of nine children and could not yet tell her chronological ranking. Dominga missed her sister, blurting two words when the question was raised. “Da'g buwak (Brought flowers to the grave),” she uncharacteristically declared. Like most children, they seem to have moved on, but the scars are deep. It has been a year since the tragedy but most people still seemed uncomfortable to talk about it. San Jose , and even the 27 children who died, may be a faint memory. But there is little doubt that the pupils and the people of San Jose will always remember.