Master in Peace and Conflict Studies Application Essay
The name “Tausug”, means, literally, “people of the current.” We are found mainly in the areas around the Sulu archipelago, but since 1974 -- when the main island of Jolo was overtaken by paramilitary forces, with thousands fleeing their homes for safety -- have spread out to areas such as Zamboanga City. Within Jolo, in the area known as Patikul, is where my father was born and raised. I always wondered why my father’s relatives, particularly my Ina (grandmother) and my Apah Masir (Uncle), never wanted me to visit. As an adult, I figured out why; my father’s hometown is a stronghold of the Abu Sayyaf Group, a Jihadist militant group that has sworn allegiance to ISIS and had wreaked havoc on the islands of Jolo and Basilan since the 1990’s. They had wanted to protect me.
This has led to an interesting home life. My father was the furthest thing from a terrorist; he was a police officer who was often assigned to different remote locations all over Mindanao. Because of this, I was raised solely by my mother. Then there was also the unorthodox situation of being my father’s second family; as a Muslim man, he could marry up to four wives. My mother, who was born a Catholic and raised me in the Catholic faith, was the second. His first family had, until his death, no idea that we even existed.
The current of my life seems strange to many people, but it was my normal. I was raised with a lot of love. As my mother was a college professor, she brought me to her MBA classes often. I would sit and listen and absorb everything she was saying about target audiences and financial management. She never pressured me to want to pursue higher education, but I wanted to be exactly like her. I still do.
Everything changed, however, when I entered my teen years. On one hand, I had found a passion for writing; I have kept a journal since I was 11, and then I soon expanded to blogging. By 13, I was published in Mindanews.com under the “Batang Mindanaw” section, and to this day I am one of its youngest contributors. By 14, I was a regular columnist for the Mindanao Times, the oldest newspaper in Davao. By 16, I published a book entitled “Haileystones: A Journey Through Time” with Mindanews Publications.
On the other hand, I suffered unimaginable losses. By the time I was 15 years old, I had lost both of my parents to cancer. My father died in June, and then my mother passed in December of the same year. I was lucky enough to have had relatives that were willing to pay my way through university, but I was otherwise left to my own devices.
My education is what saved me from falling into despair after everything that happened. I had wanted to be a journalist, but after my parents’ deaths, I grew even more determined to pursue higher education. While I relished the feeling of chasing after stories --my undergrad major, from the University of the Philippines, is in communication and media-- I found myself mostly drawn to the stories of the Bangsamoro people. Although the majority of Filipinos are Roman Catholic, there is a significant Muslim minority that make up the thirteen tribes of the Bangsamoro. Because of this, they have been given autonomy over their ancestral domains and are currently in the transition to become a parliamentary state, still under the Republic of the Philippines.
Everything changed when I had the opportunity to interview for Al Qalam Executive Director Mussolini Lidasan. He decided to take a chance on me. As the communications specialist of the institute, I write a lot: speeches, proposals, and even design programs that we then implement to our target beneficiaries in the Bangsamoro. With my boss’ appointment as a Member of Parliament (MP) to the Bangsamoro Transition Authority, we are also active in the political processes that brought about the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao. I have been, among other things, a documenter, facilitator, speaker, resource person, researcher, and organizer for various programs under the institute.
Given Al Qalam’s focus on dialogue, I have been privy to several discussions across different platforms on the dynamics of conflict. The motivations as to why people would join extremist groups, for example, vary across different socioeconomic groups. Those who are on the grassroots level cite a lack of basic services as to why they took up arms, while those who are in more urbanized settings cite social isolation and a lack of a sense of purpose. Given the complexity of the issues at hand, I have come to see that furthering my education through earning a master’s degree would be the best way for me to understand these issues further.
One professional accomplishment that I am proud of was being a part of the MSummit Moro National Youth Conference in 2018; 100 Moro youth from all over the Philippines were present at this event. During this time, we also presented the MPower Awards that awarded outstanding Moro youth in the school, community, and professional arenas. This initiative was done through the funding of the United States Embassy in Manila.
My work with the youth is what drew me to the University of Otago. I have had the opportunity to meet David Strachan, New Zealand Ambassador to the Philippines, when he visited the Al Qalam Institute earlier this year. It was during this visit where he spoke to students and staff members of the Ateneo de Davao to apply for further study to New Zealand universities. I knew that I wanted to pursue a master’s degree abroad, and the friendly nature and diverse cultural backgrounds that comprise the people of New Zealand piqued my interest. After further research, I found that the University of Otago offered a Master’s in Peace and Conflict Studies, which seemed a perfect fit for my work and interests. I did not hesitate to apply.
If given the opportunity to earn a Master’s in Peace and Conflict Studies, I would be able to contribute my experience in working directly with Moro communities, especially in youth engagement and with their fight to the right to self-determination. Given that I am Moro myself, I would also offer my perspective and insight towards how truth and reconciliation affects positive peace outcomes. I would also be motivated to return home and design research and programs around the concepts I would learn from this degree.
I have seen through my work just how damaging violence can be to entire communities, and it is situations like this that have drawn people to causing more harm. Transitional justice dictates that community healing is most effective when coming from a multi-sectoral, holistic approach. It is a lengthy process that considers both rehabilitation and reintroduction to society of those who have committed these abuses, and there are not enough people who understand truth and reconciliation under these terms. More importantly, I would want to understand public policy that relates directly to peacebuilding and good governance. It is here within these larger social structures where change can become most effective, even as I still work with people in the grassroots communities.
With this particular degree, and with the support of a New Zealand Scholarship under the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade, I would be able to use the knowledge I gained and apply it back to the communities we serve. I hope to complete this program as a full-time student within one year. It is also my hope that I start on time for Semester One in February of 2020.
The opportunity to study abroad, and at institutions such as the University of Otago, should not just be open to people like me who have had some level of privilege. I was fortunate enough to have had an education and to have reason to apply for programs like this. The people of the Bangsamoro, my people, deserve the same. I hope that, if I break through this particular glass ceiling, others will follow.
In Islam, much emphasis is given to the process of seeking knowledge, especially if it is for the benefit of the greater ummah. As a daughter of the current, I have been fortunate enough to be called to serve my people in this manner. My longing for family has become part of a greater longing for social justice and reform, and it is in this line of work where I have found my way home.