I never dreamed that I would kill, or be imprisoned... It happened so many times. I never dreamed of it, but the fact is, that's what happpened. I want to take this opportunity to tell you the real story of my life. From the very beginning, my life--my very heart--was molded in violence and in doing harm to others. It was as if I was in stuck in the quicksand of sin and as I thrashed about, I was pulled down sucked deeper and deeper. As a young man I actually dreamed of growing up to be a lawyer. But it never happened because my life veered off course. I want to start this short biography of my life talking about my parents. My dad was a military man - a soldier. So he related to me in a similar fashion, using military discipline. Once, my mom took a wooden bat and began to beat my knees. It almost crippled me. When my dad came home for lunch, he saw me... The thing is, that's what it was like in the military, when it was time to eat, everyone would sit down and eat together at the table. But when it was time for lunch, I couldn't walk so I crawled on my hands and knees. I was really afraid of my dad. So I forced myself to try to make it to the table by crawling. I couldn't walk at all and my left leg, this one, had swelled up. So what I did was, I attempted to crawl. Now when my dad saw me, he was like, "What happened here?!" My mom said, "I punished him because he was arguing with me." My dad said, "So you think you punished him, huh?" He left it at that and went inside. When he came out he brought some shears, like a machete. From the minute I saw it I started running as fast as I could on one leg, jumping and hobbling along. I jumped off a bamboo structure that was about ten feet high. When I hit the ground I did a somersault, then ran straight away and never came back. That's what my life became stemming from my parents' cruelty to me. That wasn't the only thing, I remember something else too. We were eating... my older brother did something wrong but because I was the closest kid to my dad he grabbed the pot full of steaming rice-- still really hot-- and he shoved it in my face. My dad was violent. And if he ever heard news that someone had tried to pick a fight with me, he would give me a knife. He would tell me to go back to whoever was trying to pick a fight with me, and to stab them and kill them. I didn't do it at first. I didn't want to... I was scared. You know, although I'd always believed that there was a God, the time came when I began to be violent to others as well, because of the lack of love I received from my mom and dad. And if anyone hurt me, it felt impossible not to take revenge. Little by little, anger began to grow within me until whenever I saw an enemy, or whenever someone picked a fight with me on the street, I would release my pent-up rage on them. I didn't want to let any of my enemies live. I learned how to run away. I was twelve years old then. I lived wherever I could. I stayed anywhere from Nueva Ecija to Tarlac to Pampanga, and I even made it to Manila. I spent time in Olongapo. At the very young age of fourteen, I remember this guy who was my enemy and I stabbed him using his own knife. I was buying something at the store, when the guy got there he suddenly kicked me without reason, and he shoved me because he wanted to be the first in line. It made me so angry that when I spotted a knife on the counter and when he reached out to grab it... I beat him to it... and that's what I used to stab him. And that's when the problem picked up speed. I honestly thought that was what my life was gonna be like. From that time on, it was as if it was easy for me to do it. It was like, I didn't fear anything anymore. Wherever I would go, I always carried a knife with me. Hanging from my waist at all times. It began to define my life. My life was a disaster. It didn't matter what I tried to do to survive on my own away from my parents, I just sunk deeper and deeper into sin. I picked up a lot of bad habits and "skills" on the streets. Robbing. Fighting to stay alive, to have something to eat. What we called "street fighting." Challenging each other, tying each other up, betting money. We were like roosters in a cockfight. That's why I thought my life was worth nothing more than to be thrown away. I wanted to straighten out my life... but by then I had probably stabbed about five different people. Coming from that, I really wanted to change my life's course. I was getting tired of it. So I signed up to be a soldier. I would be able to hold a gun now. As a soldier, my life was still crazy. Whenever a gun was in my hands, all I wanted to do was kill. That thought had been planted in my mind. I had no quietness, no peace, but I would pray. I didn't know if God would listen to me back then... probably not 'cause my life was so messed up. All I knew was that there was a God. I left the military because I couldn't stand having my superiors yelling at me, ordering me around and making me do what I didn't want to do. So I quit. And I was discharged from the military. And when I went home... that was one time that I actually went back to where we lived. I had a younger sister who was being courted by a member of the "Bahala Na Gang." I only learned about it after the fact. My sister was kidnapped. They got her and shoved her in the car. I forcefully yanked my sister away from the guys who abducted her. So, I immediately killed those two guys. With their own weapons. One of them I shot, but he was able to get away. I heard later that he died at the hospital. During those days, the police weren't after me because they heard that I had simply defended myself, and had rescued my sister. Six months later, two of my older brothers were stopped by a drunk MetroCom policeman. The MetroCom policeman got beat-up. My older brother was the one who stabbed him because he was blocking my brother's way. The policeman was drunk and had a gun on him. So it was kind of like, my brother beat him to the punch... my brother stabbed him. But the guy didn't die. Now after another six months, the police arrested me without a warrant of arrest. They used force. And grabbed me. And then they tortured me. They wanted me to admit to killing someone they said I had killed. The first form of torture was... They stuffed me in a burlap sack and submerged me in a swimming pool. They would keep me under until I was fighting and struggling to breathe, then they would let me up. I didn't tell them anything. I didn't respond. I just kept quiet. The second thing they did to me was, they made me sit on an ice block. I was stark naked, sitting on an ice block with my hands and feet tied with wire, until the ice melted... it lasted all night. I wanted to pee, but I couldn't understand what the sensation was. I wanted to stand up to pee, but I couldn't because everything was numb, I couldn't feel anything. So when I recovered some feeling, and I could move my feet a little bit, I spied a gun that had been left out on the table. I know it was left there on purpose. I kept looking at it. I wanted to jump up and snatch it. I was gonna fire it. I was gonna fight back because they were torturing me. But when I looked carefully at the gun, it wasn't loaded. So I didn't do it. After a bit I heard them laughing. I realized that they were all holding guns and if I would have grabbed it, they would have shot me. The third form of torture they did to make me admit my "crime" was... My feet were tied with wire and my hands were tied behind my back. They put me on top of the table with my head hanging off the side of the table. They put a huge tire on me with the rim attached... it was so heavy that it took six of them to lift it onto me. And then they took a glass, the kind they use for water full of crushed chili pepper.. and poured it into my nostrils. That was the absolute worst. I was screaming from the searing pain. So I said, "Go ahead and make your statement! I'll admit that I killed the guy--no matter who it is!!" That's when it happened. I signed a document that I had never read. They were guiding my hand 'cause my eyes were closed. I couldn't see. Alright, I'm gonna write my name on it. I was sentenced and put in prison but it just made me more determined to kill and kill some more. The police and the judge wanted to mess with me, but I came up with my own idea. At court I didn't have a lawyer... so when the judge told the kid, "Okay, now point to the one who murdered the guy." The kid pointed at the guy standing beside me. Not me. So I said, "Judge, can I please say something? This case, today's hearing, is framing me. This kid right here wasn't even pointing at me! That means that this kid was told what to do!" But when I spoke up like that, the police officer grabbed the kid's finger and pointed it at me. And he said, "This guy. He was the one you saw stab the guy." "It's not that one. It's this one." The one he was pointing at was the guy beside me. So I said something. "Judge, didn't you just hear that? He keeps telling the kid what to do," I said. It all happened in court. The police said, "I'm gonna take you out. I'm gonna take you out." So the judge said, "Alright, sit down. I'll take care of it." The proceedings continued and I thought that when I was read my sentence, they would let me off. There was no case, because it wasn't me in the first place. I wasn't the one the kid pointed at. But how it turned out, I was the guilty one. I felt like they were gonna take me out. They put me down for 6-12 years. While we were still in the courtroom, my escort left me. I was like, this is gonna be deadly. I could feel it. My brain was shouting at me to fight and grab a gun. I was gonna kill. But then no one came up to me, or even noticed me. I walked straight into the judge's office. And still no one noticed me. I walked out the door. 'Cause the courtroom and the office of the judge had adjoining doors. I went to the restroom. And was like, "If anyone follows me in, I'll scramble for their gun if they have one." That's what was in my head. But no one followed me in, and finally I got the idea to go downstairs. I got on the elevator, and when I got to the bottom, many police were guarding the area. I kept my eye on the holsters that had guns. I was gonna grab one. But no one even gave me a second glance. So what I did was, I walked outside. I went to Cubao. And I watched a movie at the theater. It still cracks me up whenever I think about it. Later, when I was sentenced and put in prison... that was the very place I learned to do drugs. 'Cause my life was just pure craziness. The drugs they refer to as "red devil" or "seconal" (barbiturates) that's what I would take the most. Umm, come to find out, after drinking it , you turn into a war freak. It got so bad they they put me in for a transfer to Muntinlupa (high-security prison). All I wanted was revenge. Revenge was the only thing on my mind. So when I arrived at the high-security prison... Finally! Here's my chance! I'm sure you've heard terrible stories of what goes on in there, I was part of it all. In fact, the first time I got there there were a lot of "Manila Boy" inmates and the gangs were divided into "Bisaya" and "Manila Boy". Now, there was an abusive man there that would constantly bully me. He would always try to show off that he was a "real man." I'd get teased. It enraged me even more. So when it was time to get food from the kitchen and they called out, "Who are the Bisayans here?!" I presented myself. When I got to the kitchen I asked them to give me a weapon. I asked for a knife. They gave me two. When we walked back into our brigade in Building 9 we were all together 'cause that's where the Bisaya gang lived. I had two knives. When the guard locked the door, the fighting began. Everyone was stabbing each other, it was pure mayhem. When I would stab someone the guy next to me would be like, "Let me do it now! Let me!" So after that they transferred us to a different brigade That's when I joined the "Happy Go Lucky" gang. I want to make it clear to you that during that time the only thing on my mind was that I was pure evil and there was no hope that my life would ever change. What goes on inside Bilibid, all the racket that you've heard about inside Bilibid, it's all true. They had a system of betting, called "belt-grabbing" - which was a fight to the death. 'Cause inside Bilibid it was like so much fun whenever two opposing gangs could place wagers on a fight between their members. Grab your opponent's belt, and if you slay them and you win, they'd cut your arm and give you a tally mark to remind you. Prisons are filthy rich. So they would make wagers on a man's life there as if they were mere roosters in a cockfight. For each kill you made you'd be given a tally mark. They would slash your arm. So, this here is, this is umm... eight. My arm bears eight marks. A reminder of the eight fallen men. But I've since repented for each of them. Whenever I think about it now, before I fall asleep, I cry and ask God to forgive me. Because I took lives. I didn't want to. Each gang had a system that they used... they would take you out and test you, they'd break you out of prison and you'd have to make a kill. The place I chose to go to was a church called Foursquare Gospel Church. When I got inside, I had my two weapons hidden here on my chest with a thread connecting them. And, I had a jacket on to cover them. The thing that surprised me the most when I entered was Why were people so happy? They were singing and clapping, raising their hands. I didn't understand what "praise" was back then, that they were doing it for God. I saw them as crazy heads. My plan was to stab one of the guys who had his hands raised in the air, 'cause it's really easy to kill someone by stabbing them in the armpit. All their hands were raised and when I wanted to do it, I reached for both of my knives at the same time... and realized that I couldn't move my arms it was as if I was pinned down. I was in total shock. I couldn't move a muscle. I couldn't accomplish what I had planned. When I got back, the leader of our gang told me, "Dude, if your hands aren't stained with blood by tomorrow then I'll take your own blood! I think you're turning into a little scaredy-cat!" I said, "No, I'm not! I just didn't get a chance!" The next day, I sawed through the bars to get out. I didn't escape through the door again. I returned to the same place, but this time I carried a deep conviction that I couldn't bring knives with me into the church again. It was Sunday morning. And after I got inside, you know I still clearly remember the message. It was this: If your parents have abandoned you, and there is no one who loves you, there is a great God who is a Father who loves you, and gave His one and only Son, Jesus, so that you would experience the love of God. That's when it finally dawned on me that there was actually someone who loved me. Someone STILL loved me. Every thought in my head that was telling me that no one loved me, no one cared about me... was wiped away. I had only ever experienced human pain, so my heart was molded to do acts of violence. I was fighting violence with more violence. When the missionary said, "Whoever among you surrenders to the Lord and gives your life over to Him, the Lord is ready and waiting to show you His love and forgive you of all of your sins." Even though I didn't want to go forward there was this power that I can't explain that moved me forward, with my hand raised high. Throughout my whole life, as I recall, from back when I was a kid until that time, I had never cried, even when my parents would hurt me. But at that moment when I realized that there was a God who loved me, I didn't just cry... I broke down in wrenching sobs, with snot, drool and tears freely flowing. After that, I suddenly went unconscious. I woke up underneath the chairs. That was the very first miraculous experience that God gave me. And when I was headed back home I returned and picked up the knives, and was heading back, and what I kept muttering over and over to God was... "If You are real, the One that I experienced today, then what happens to me today is up to You! I'm not gonna give my permission to let them kill me. " When I got close to our brigade my fellow gang members came out all eleven of them because there were twelve of us total, we were called "Doce Pares" (The Twelve Pairs) I was the Twelfth, and there was another set of twelve guys as well that were all hitmen. So they all came out, and I thought that they would confront me, but what they told me was "Dude, we're not gonna give you up." That means they took my side. Our main guy yelled at us, "Come here! Come here! Give me those weapons. The sharp one is mine. From now on, don't lay a finger on this! If you want to become "holy" then go be holy! Don't touch these anymore!" That was the second amazing miracle that the Lord did for me. From that time forward, they didn't boss me around. They just got a kick out of it whenever I would go to the church. Another thing that happened was one time when I went into my room... Cause the thing was, if you were a ranking inmate you had your own person to serve you you had your own place-- a private room. I sat down on the pallet and got a cigarette out... I lit it, took a whiff and totally blacked out. I woke up on the fourth day, and they told me that I had been out cold for four days. I came to on the fourth day. When I woke up and became conscious again, I couldn't stand the smell of cigarettes any longer. Those were the kind of miracles that I received from the Lord when he totally transformed me. From then on, I would go to church for Bible Study, and for prayer meeting. I was ambushed a bunch of times by the rival gang who would forcefully block my way trying to kill me. I was like a moving target that they would try to hit with their knives. Truth be told, I did get one cut right here where the tip of their blade caught me, on the side right here, underneath. When they got tired of blocking my way, when I would go to church, and when I came back they would pass by me with a "Suuure, dude. We know you're a good boy now!" That was the turning point when my new life transformation began and I would eventually preach to my fellow inmates. I was able to enter the brigades of my former enemies without anyone bothering me. Now what I'm gonna tell you really happened. Our missionary challenged us to fast. Forty people were going on the fast. There were seven of us who made it to the seventh day of the fast. That was without eating anything. And only drinking water. After the fast, we went into the brigade of the "Sputnik" gang. We testified to them about who we believed in and the One we worshiped who had given us a fresh new life. Those in the brigade that we entered... 'cause if you enter into an enemy's brigade they would securely padlock it with two doors that were both securely padlocked, and if they shot at you, or tried to kill you, you wouldn't be able to do anything to defend yourself. But then a miracle happened... We could see their weapons, the knives, as they made their way to the front, we did nothing except testify and sing praise to God. It was at that very moment, that all of the hitmen of the Sputnik gang that were holding knives couldn't stand up. They dropped their weapons and asked, "What do you guys have?!" We all spoke in unison, as if it was just one voice. "Jesus! We have Jesus!" That entire brigade accepted the Lord. To those who have lost hope, or experienced pain from their parents or perhaps others, I want you to know that your life can't be changed by things in the world. For me, prison didn't change me. What changed me, was the Word of God. So we really need to take a minute to notice that the hope of humankind is only found in Jesus and in the Word of God. This is how to be truly transformed and have your life changed. There is no other way in this fallen world, not even prison, not even in a dungeon, there's no other way--nothing else that can change a person, apart from the Word of God. And the Word of God is man's only hope for living a changed life. So to those who have experienced suffering in their life, what I can tell you right now is, there IS hope and Jesus is that hope. And the beginning of a changed life is to accept Jesus into your heart. Come to know Him as the "King of kings" and the "Lord of lords" and follow His way. The Lord will completely change and transform us. God will transform us every day if our lives are surrendered to Him. I made Jesus my King, the Lord of my heart and of my life. I don't just live for myself any longer, but now I live my life for Christ no matter what may happen, or whatever problem I have. This is the difference between my life back then and my life now... I didn't have anyone on my side before when I'd have a problem. Now, I still have problems as a Christian who has known the Lord for a long time, but I have someone on my side, someone who gives me strength, someone who gives me hope, and is always there to protect me, who walks with me through each day and never abandons me. It doesn't matter where I go now, I'm not afraid to die or be killed, 'cause I know that I'll be raised to new life again, because of the One that I serve, Jesus Christ. When I was released from prison on June 12th, 1976. I studied at Bible School, and graduated. Now, I continue to preach the Word of God I've been preaching in the mountains for sixteen years with the Aetas (tribal people) in the area of Pampanga, Porac. There are so many Aetas that have learned how to live for the Lord. They call me "Apo" there, which means "Grandpa". Whenever I visit, a whole bunch of kids call me "Grandpa". It's impossible for me to not bring bags of candy, bread rolls, and biscuits. Because I view every single one of those kids as my own grandkid. Every time I see those kids I dream of giving them an education, and of finding them sponsors because my parents never sent me to school. I want them to succeed and move up in life. And I want them to have the beautiful kind of life that is rooted in a strong belief in Christ as Lord and Savior. And to all the men there, to all the fathers, I train them to preach the Word of God in their homes and with their own families. All parents should know that there is a God who is alive, who ready and willing to help humanity. So that their kids won't fall through the cracks and learn how to do drugs, to steal, and to kill, or join in evil activity. Parents must know how to teach their kids the right way to live that aligns with the Word of God. Until now, my dream is to be a soul-winner and to be able to serve the Lord with complete faithfulness. There is no salary, but I'm able to live by the grace of God. I have a different perspective on life now. Now that I have purpose and God gave me hope for living my goal is to come to know this great God even more-- the God who is worthy to be worshiped, the God who is worthy to be served. And that's all I can say. Back when I fasted for nine days, I prayed and asked the Lord that each of these marks would be replaced by a thousand souls for the Lord. I cried asking the Lord for that. That's why today, at the age of 71, I don't stop preaching the Word of God, so that many will come to know Him personally. I thank God. He completely changed me and I will continue to serve Him.
