Giving without counting cost

Asimah Andabo Naga grew up in a Maranao village and is no stranger to conflict in war-torn Mindanao. This did not stop her from doing volunteer work in any capacity, including empowering the youth to be “agents of change.” contributed Photo

Growing up with five brothers and four sisters in a Maranao village where “evacuation” was a normal occurrence for those caught between rido (family feuds) that often escalated to community conflict, I was no stranger to the word bakwit (according to some of my professors, the word bakwet, which is a transliteration of “evacuate,” was frequently used during WWII ). But this did not make the experience of having had to flee from the violence of the Marawi siege in May 2017 any easier.

I remembered the year I graduated from Mindanao State University in 2007. I was hired by a non-government organization (NGO) that was to deploy me to a conflict area not too different from my hometown.

I thought my training in community development as well as my personal experience would have prepared me for the job but I realized I wasn’t ready to relive the fear of hearing gunshots and the pain of losing relatives and loved ones so I walked away from what was sure to be a meaningful employment because I knew I wasn’t ready to handle the challenges of conflict resolution.

Other possible work opportunities didn’t match my skills set and I was getting frustrated with myself. Then I heard about Xavier University’s Year of Service (YOS), a volunteer sending program aimed at facilitating peace and social development in Mindanao through a year-long engagement in collaboration with partner organizations such as NGO, Local Government Units, dioceses, social action centers and parishes, to assist in their work of empowering the marginalized.

When I was accepted into the program, my family thought it was an act of rebellion. I was the first in our clan to work with Christians. I assured them I just wanted to experience living outside of my comfort zone; and I promised I would return home to share whatever lessons I would learn from YOS.

What was initially supposed to be only a year-long engagement turned to three years of very enriching work from 2007-2010. I was assigned to work in, of all places, the Archdiocese of Cagayan de Oro, where I would invariably catch attention just by wearing a hijab (head covering worn in public by some Muslim women).

It was daunting to have to be at the receiving end of curious stares from Catholics/Christians who naturally wondered what a Muslim was doing in patently Catholic gatherings—that soon had to include halal food on its menu whenever the activity includes lunch or merienda. It didn’t take long for my presence in Muslim-Christian dialogues, oftentimes representing the Archdiocese, to be considered “normal” by non-Muslims. But this wasn’t after I was questioned by a priest who, in not very friendly terms, said a Muslim did not have any business being in a Catholic event. When the Archbishop heard about what happened, he told me not to mind the unwelcome remark but if prodded for a comment, just to say, “I’m just trying to be a good Samaritan.”

At the same time, my fellow Muslims were wondering if I had already converted to Catholicism since at one point during my volunteer work, I even became assistant facilitator in a seminar-workshop on transformative leadership for seminarians. And this required me and the other secretariat members to do regular visits and even stay at a Catholic Theological Seminary!

Those were three very enriching years that changed my world view. Coming from a conservative Muslim community that has had to endure the consequences of violent militarization in the past, and therefore whose traditional way of thinking finds it difficult to trust Christians (or non-Muslims, in general) and the military, working with precisely these people considered “unfriendly” by my own family opened horizons for me.

It was very inspiring to see the generosity of spirit and the openness to get to know more about the Muslim culture shown not only by my fellow YOS volunteers but by many other volunteers I have been fortunate to meet in various gatherings such as the National Volunteer Summit organized by the Volunteer Organizations Information Coordination and Exchange (VOICE) Network, where YOS takes a very active part. Our training prior to deployment and the exchange of experiences with members of other volunteer organizations gave us a lot of opportunities to get to know ourselves better, as well as get to know the others.

The idea of finding what is common among us rather than focusing on our differences was invariably emphasized. That we all believe in one God was one of the most obvious “commonality” among us and yet we would often miss this point. That we all want the common good for the communities we serve was another common point. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, I’d say, quoting from a renowned parish song inspired by words from a Catholic saint, we are all in it without counting the cost and without expecting any reward.

“Once a volunteer, always a volunteer,” may sound a mere nice turn of phrase to some people but for those who have done volunteer work at some point in their lives, this is true. After my YOS experience, I served as the municipal link for the Conditional Cash Transfer program of the government in North Cotabato. That was my “day job.” On weekends, I would do volunteer work with the LGU-Alamada Team that conducted and facilitated a workshop on Culture of Peace; and helped out in medical missions mounted by the 40th Infantry Battalion and the 6th Infantry Division based in North Cotabato held in some barangays with in the Municipalities of Aleosan and Alamada.

After the Marawi siege, while helping my own family to recover, I volunteered in the distribution of relief goods and in providing psycho-social intervention. I also encouraged more youth to be active volunteers in providing services to our co-evacuees. Because of my YOS experience, I served as a kind of a bridge between the non-Muslim communities helping Marawi and the Maranao people who needed help. Oftentimes, I was an interpreter to make sure nothing is lost in translation in order to ensure effective communication. While Marawi will probably never forget what happened in 2017 because of the many signs of destruction that still surround us, it cannot be denied that the experience left us with a stronger conviction that peace is only elusive for those who don’t have the courage to pursue it.

Asimah Andabo NagaAsimah now teaches kindergarten in Lanao del Sur. She is also the school’s student government adviser, a task that gives her a chance to encourage and empower the youth as future leaders through a school-based program dubbed “Youth as Agents of Change,” a project with International Alert Philippines and Mindanao Peace Institute.