Wind very strong.
Sea speak to me.
This water
is my father water
is my grandfather water
is my ancestor water.
Boat small. I only mananagat.
Cold bite my hands.
Storm no care for chikiting.
I go. I go.
I bring fish for table.
Fried bariles. My children wait.
Only nylon and kawit I bring
and pack of Gudang Baru
I only pack.
Suddenly, light appear.
Not moon, but shadow bigger than sea.
Steel ship, painted with stars,
foreign voice shouting. They block my path,
horn like kulog.
They circle me, point rifle,
pour water cannon.
“滚开,” their mouth command.
I shout,
“Please, sir,
fisherman lang.
Anak ko gutom.
I go now, sir.”
Fear and worry
not understand,
kaba and takot
I understand only.
When I open my eyes,
only see fish.
I tell the world
ako mananagat only.
I dala bariles for my children.
Nothing more.
Justine Paul Paraz is currently studying political science at Mindanao State University and was a fellow for poetry at the 2025 SOX Writers Workshop. Writing makes him happy.