A MEMORIAL AMID TREES FOR BOTANIST KILLED IN ARMY FIRE
It was under the shade of towering native trees that family and friends of botanist Leonard Co celebrated his memory, exactly eight years after he was felled by bullets among trees that had been his sanctuary.
From their lips came the same cry for justice for the scientist whose knowledge and love for the country’s flora remained unparalleled to this day.
On Nov. 15, 2010, his life was abruptly taken when Army soldiers rained at least 245 bullets on Co and companions, who were on a research project in a forest inside the complex of the Energy Development Corp. at the village of Lim-ao in Kananga town, Leyte province.
His two other companions—forester Sofronio Cortez and farmer Julius Borromeo—were also slain.
The Army’s 19th Infantry Battalion claimed the civilians were killed in a crossfire between government troops and the New People’s Army, the armed wing of the Communist Party of the Philippines.
But two survivors from Co’s group said the hail of gunfire came only from one direction.
Since then, justice remained elusive.
Eight years after, not one soldier had been arraigned, much less placed behind bars.
In Tacloban City, Alexander Abinguna, of Katungod-Sinirangan Bisayas, ahumanrights group, said his group was disappointed that it had been eight years now since Co was killed but the perpetrators remained scot-free.
“Our call is still the same: those who killed Dr. Co should be held accountable,” Abinguna said.
“To us, the delay in the decision of the case could be deliberate considering those involved are members of state forces,” he said.
Lawyer Desiree Pontejos, regional director of the Commission on Human Rights, said her office, too, was dismayed by the slow progress on Co’s case.
For Glenda, Co’s wife, the questions that linger make her more and more enraged at the government and over the lack of action on her husband’s case.
“I cannot simply accept that he died that way,” she said in an interview.
Marker in UP Arboretum
Some 30 friends and colleagues of Co gathered on Thursday around his marker under the shade of a dita ( Alstonia scholaris) tree inside an ar- boretum at the University of the Philippines (UP) Diliman campus in Quezon City.
Under this native tree lay a part of his ashes—a wish that he had made to his family before his untimely death. It was to never part with the university that he had entered as a botany student in 1972.
“No matter how far his travels would take him in the pursuit of botanical knowledge, he would return to the UP Arboretum, where he would unpack the results of his expeditions and continue his studies,” read the marker.
“He died with his boots on, his life cut short in the middle of the forest he loves.”
Perry Ong of the UP Institute of Biology and a close friend of the slain botanist earlier said Co entered the university in the early ’70s and never left.
Sierra Madre, Palawan
He was the last graduate who earned a botany degree from the institute in 2008, after the course was reshaped into a biology degree.
By then, he was already an accomplished botanist, biologist and ethnopharmacologist, frequenting Sierra Madre and Palawan for his work.
His works included manuals and books on medicinal plants, which became significant reference materials for poor communities that have scant access to health programs.
Native plants society
In 2007, he founded the Philippine Native Plants Conservation Society.
As a taxonomist, he discovered new plants species as well.
At least two species of endemic plants were named after him—the Mycaranthes leonardi orchid and the Rafflesia leonardi, the world’s third largest flower.
On that fateful day in 2010, he was on a restoration project, collecting samples of “mother trees.”
The Department of Justice had recommended the filing of reckless imprudence resulting in multiple homicide and attempted homicide against nine soldiers. But for Glenda, it was a clear case of murder.
“They were already lying face down on the ground. They were yelling that they were not their enemies,” she said, noting that a forensic examination of her husband’s body had ruled that it was indeed murder.
Those ordered charged were 1st Lt. Ronald Odchimar, Cpl. Marlon Mores, Pfc. Albert Belmonte, Pfc. Alex Apostol, Pfc. Roger Fabillar, Pfc. William Bulic, Pfc. Elmer Forteza, Pfc. Michael Babon and Pfc. Gul Guimerey.
Arraignment postponed
A petition for review in the case had been filed in the justice department, but no resolution had come up since.
After eight years, the arraignment for the nine soldiers was scheduled for last week, but was postponed anew. The judge was reportedly unavailable.
Glenda also slammed the dismissal of the obstruction of justice case that was filed against the soldiers who reportedly failed to submit proper ballistics.
The court, however, ruled that the prosecution’s witnesses were irrelevant.
The administrative cases filed against the accused were also reportedly dismissed.
Co’s daughter Linnaea
“It’s still a big nightmare … It’s still hard to talk about it,” said Linnaea Marie, the botanist’s only child, who was 8 years old when her father was killed.
Even without her father by her side, she carried the imprint of his legacy with her name, which came from Linnaea borealis.
Commonly known as twinflower, it was named by Carolus Linnaeus himself, the father of modern taxonomy.
“While we continue to fight for justice, I hope it ends soon,” she tearfully said.
At the short tribute on Thursday, Co’s colleagues remembered him for his generosity and immense love for his study.
“Co believed that botanical resources should be in the service of the Filipino,” read the citation of the Center for Environmental Concerns, which conferred the Gawad Bayani ng Kalikasan award on Co in 2011.
“He propagated his knowledge formally and informally because he knew that if more people understood plants, they would treasure these resources.”