WHY are they so afraid of Supt. Lito Patay, the new director of the Criminal Investigation and Detection Group in Central Visayas?
Is it because of his last name, which, admittedly, is morbidly appropriate, considering the spate of killings in Cebu Province in the last month?
To those who are non-Cebuano speakers, “patay” has two meanings, depending on how you say it. If you emphasize the first syllable, or PA-tay, it means “death.” If you emphasize the second syllable, or pa-TAY, then it simply means “dead.”
Either way, the word involves the loss of a life.
Or lives, in the case of Patay when he was reassigned from Davao City to head Station 6, or the Batasan Station, in the Quezon City Police District in Metro Manila after President Duterte assumed power.
During his stint there, or from July 2016 to June 2017, it had the distinction of being described as the “deadliest police station” in Quezon City, with 108 falling victim to the government’s war against illegal drugs.
Apparently, all of them drew their weapons first, which forced authorities to open fire. Or at least that was what Patay told reporters when asked about the high number of mortality.
And I accept his explanation hook, line and sinker. Unlike some of my colleagues, I have no problem with the figures.
I have said from the very beginning that I support the Philippine National Police organization’s quest to rid our streets of this drug menace 100 percent.
My faith in the organization never wavered even when only small-time drug personalities were targeted at first. So when the big heads started to roll, I heaved a sigh of relief. At last, I thought, nipping the problem in the bud.
But I noticed that here in Cebu, it seems to be “business as usual.”
Many drug personalities continue to be caught with millions worth of shabu almost on a weekly basis. And no one makes a fuss.
It’s almost as if the public has given up, unwilling to believe that such a scourge can be wiped out. So most have learned to live with it.
Well, I haven’t, and anyway I don’t want to.
I still remember staring at the end of a gun barrel when a drug-crazed robber held me up on Uytengsu Road several years ago.
How do I know he was “high?” Trust me, he displayed all the signs: the stutter, the nervous tics and the irritability, to mention a few.
And now someone who can actually make a difference has landed on our shores, and already he’s being criticized for his past record.
Come on, people. We’ve been held hostage by this drug problem long enough. It’s time for a change.
I just hope the superintendent lives up to his name.