ILOILO City – On a humid afternoon, Jose Ely “Leeboy” Garachico’s voice over the phone carried both weight and warmth. At 69, the council member of Samahan ng mga Ex-detainee Laban sa Detensyon at Aresto (SELDA)-Panay has lived long enough to see history repeat itself in unsettling ways. Yet his story remains one of resilience, a testimony to the power of memory and the obligation to resist.
For Garachico, the fight against injustice began before he even understood it.
“I was just a high school student, around 16 years old, a seminarian, barely old enough to grasp the realities of the world around me, when martial law was declared (by dictator Ferdinand Marcos Sr.),” he said.
He was in his fourth year, studying in Bacolod City at the seminary.
“I remember the palpable fear that gripped our community,” he said.
Still, amid that fear, Garachico said he witnessed courage – the courage of sugar farmers marching bravely through the streets.
“Their determination ignited something within me, even though I didn’t fully comprehend its significance back then,” Garachico recalled.
Back then, he was a quiet observer, standing at the edges of rallies and solidarity marches.
“I remember being involved in various movements, especially in Negros, given the dire situation during that period,” he said.
Sugar workers would march past the seminary in Talisay, and the young seminarians would feed them before they continued to the city plaza.
Seeds of Activism
The seeds of activism, planted in those adolescent years, began to take root after college. Garachico remembers his awakening vividly.
“Sang pag-declare sang Martial Law, high school ako, I think fourth year high school. Didto kami sa Bacolod ga-eskwela although, sa seminary kami that time… Sang bata bata pako, indi pa gid ako involved,” he explained, switching to his native tongue.
It was only later, in Iloilo, that his involvement deepened.
“Ulihi pa ko ya, after college na kag mag-involve ako sa activism, paagi sa social action diri sa Iloilo,” he said.
The country was then reeling from the Marcos Sr. authoritarian rule, and Garachico found himself thrust into organizing and advocacy. But with activism came risk.
“Na-detain ako twice kag na-torture ako sa sulod ka detention. Mga 23 years old, naka-graduate na ako sina sa college,” he recounted.
His arrest in 1979 marked a turning point. His advocacy for sugar workers — voicing their demands for dignity in a system stacked against them — made him a target. He would endure torture, humiliation, and the cold isolation of prison cells.
He described those dark days as dehumanizing.
“Actually sang Martial Law, pag-join ko sa activisim, didto ako may awakening… Kapintas gid man sang mga gobyerno ta. Kag kaluluoy ang mga imol kag pigado nga pamuluyo… Isa na ako da eh, nga natup-an sang mga mapintas nga kamot sang martial law. Kag sa subong nga regime, asta pa gani sa presidency ni Duterte, na priso kami gani,” he shared.
Lessons in Suffering, Lessons in Resistance
If anything, Garachico’s story is a cautionary tale about what happens when power goes unchecked.
“I would not want anybody else to be subjected to the cruelty done to me,” he said, underscoring his commitment to ensure future generations never endure the same brutality.
His reflections are as much about governance as they are about survival.
“Ang akon nga natun-an, ang mga marginalized, kinahangalan gid nga may ga apin sa ila… Lesson gid siguro nga dapat maghulag gid eh. May choice ka sa kabuhi mo, either magsunod-sunod ka lang,” he said.
For him, the choice was clear: silence was not an option.
Even now, decades later, he remains vocal about corruption and systemic abuse.
“Many people remain staunch supporters of the Marcos family and refuse to acknowledge the atrocities committed during martial law. However, international recognition of human rights violations, including compensations awarded to victims, underscores the need for accountability,” he pointed out.
Passing the Torch
Today, Garachico sees a new generation of students and young activists picking up the fight.
“The younger generation plays a crucial role in this fight. Schools are now inviting martial law victims to share their stories, and documentation of that dark period is being disseminated,” he said.
His words resonate at a time when the legacy of martial law remains contested. With the Marcoses once again in positions of power, he insists on vigilance.
“Aiming for justice should be loud, a clarion call to action,” said Garachico.
That call finds new expression in contemporary struggles — like the upcoming “Trillion Peso March” on September 21, the Martial Law anniversary.
Protesters are set to converge at the Iloilo Provincial Capitol after marching from Jaro Cathedral. The event, a coalition of church leaders, activists, and ordinary citizens, will amplify demands for accountability amid alleged corruption in government infrastructure projects.
Monsignor Meliton Oso of the Jaro Archdiocesan Social Action Center summed up the rally’s spirit: “We must denounce the thievery that is taking place in our country, as we are the ones being cheated. The blood and sweat of Filipinos are essentially being squandered; therefore, we must let our anger be known, but we insist on expressing this in a non-violent manner.”
A Living Reminder
Garachico’s life is living history — a bridge between the wounds of the past and the urgency of the present. His journey, scarred by torture yet strengthened by resolve, reminds Filipinos that democracy is fragile, and justice must be continuously pursued.
The fight, he insists, is not his alone. It belongs to every generation willing to speak out, march forward, and remember./PN
