Two years have gone since you were killed by murderers who remain unknown up to this day.
In the darkness, they waited for you, after you visited fellow farmers who needed your help. Suddenly they shot you and caught by surprise, you were hit and thrown to the ground. In the last few moments of your life, instead of escape, you stood your ground and defended those who were with you. Allowing them to escape.
I am sad that we were not able to see each other again before those murderers took your life away. I am sad that we were never able to talk again about the things we were into after the Sumilao March.
I regret that I was not able to attend your grandson’s baptism. How I wish that we were able to see each other before you were taken from us, your friends.
It was my dream then, that should we see each other again in the future, I will bring my children and introduce them to you. I was hoping that they would learn from you, the important role farmers have in a society. I had high hopes that my children would learn much from you, same as those other children from the places we went to.
Nong Rene’s coffin being loaded unto a hearse (via Wutda)
I still wonder my friend, as to why people in positions of power and money would want to have you killed. Why would the rich and the powerful be afraid of you?
Your death Nong Rene, is proof enough of the power of words and peaceful protest for agrarian reform and social change – feared by those with money and in power.
Although those responsible for your death have yet to be brought to court to account for your death, that does not mean that we have forgotten about you. We will never forget you Nong Rene!
Your life and death, will always challenge us, your friends, to continue the struggle with which you have dedicated your life!
We will never forget you Nong Rene! Never!