20/09/2025
๐๐ง๐ค๐ข ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ข๐ ๐ฟ๐๐ก๐ฉ๐ ๐ผ๐ง๐๐๐๐ซ๐๐จ: ๐๐๐ง๐ฉ๐๐๐ก ๐๐๐ฌ ๐๐ฉ๐ค๐ง๐๐๐จ
Read this story from our founder, Sis Roni Oracion:
Memories of my first protest action against the US-Marcos Dictatorship: Saturday, 06 Dec. 1975, A โPink-Litterโ Day and the first protest action during Marcos Martial Law
1975. The height of Martial Law. Many student activists were imprisoned. Others have gone underground or were in hiding. 10pm curfew. Protest actions banned. Resistance against the dictatorship not openly discussed. One-on-one was the mode for passing on sensitive information, mainly in whispers.
A sister in Pi Sigma Delta Sorority asked me if I was keen to join the first protest action against Martial Law. I said yes and arranged a meeting point. Although probable, as we were and still are close friends and sisters, Iโm not sure if I passed this on to two other Pi Sigma Deltans. But somehow or the other, we all ended up going together. It was such a secret that none of the rest of our sisters in Pi Sigma Delta had any inkling that we were up to something exciting, yet at the same time, terrifying. Joining our maiden protest action, a history in the making.
On Saturday, the 6th of Dec. 1975, we took the JD bus from UP Diliman to Quiapo. Only two buses were plying the UP Diliman to Quiapo route then โ JD Transit, the red painted bus, and DM, the white one. From there, we walked towards the assembly point at Avenida Rizal.
When we arrived at Avenida Rizal, the site of the protest action, all shops along the avenue were closed. Avenida Rizal was filled with protesters, way past Carriedo. There were plenty of workers, landless peasants, and the young. There were some students, some familiar faces from UP Diliman Kamia Residence Hall and from UP Diliman College of Arts and Sciences.
There were plenty of riot police and plainclothes agents, too. Tanks, fire trucks, and a phalanx of riot police in full battle gear blocked the end of the avenue. Very frightening! Police and plainclothes agents were scattered along the sidewalk; sticking to the building walls like the flies they were.
We all sat down on the tar-paved avenue. Deafening silence. There was no LRT then blanketing the avenue skyline. I looked up and saw dark clouds framed by the buildings, hovering ominously.
Then, someone started shouting slogans. Marcos! Hi**er! Diktador! Tuta! Everyone followed; the shouting reverberated along the avenue. At the same time, there was some movement at the fire trucksโ end. We all stood up, kapit-bisig. Still shouting slogans. Then the fire trucks started water bombing us. All of us scampered to the sidewalk. Must have looked like the Mosesโ parting of the waves!
Police and plainclothes agents began hitting protesters within their reach with their truncheons. The cracking noise of the truncheons hitting warm bodies and a few wails were filling the air. But I'm not sure which was louder โ the cracking sound of truncheon blows or the wild thumping of my heart.
We all got separated.
I was lucky. Someone was protecting me, literally covering me, and receiving all the truncheon blows. I didnโt even know who. Then someone dragged me, urging me to run. I lost one shoe in the scuffle. But I still managed to hobble along. I ended up inside the Sta. Cruz church. Many protesters also ended up there. The church was packed to the rafters. Standing room only.
We were all pink-coloured! The water used to โbombโ us was dyed pink. My white t-shirt turned pink and my denims, pink-streaked. My face was pink-streaked, too.
Many nuns were inside the Sta. Cruz church. They were wiping our faces, trying to erase all the pink dye. One tried her best to wipe all the pink dye off my face. She managed to make me less pink-streaked; made me look human again. Priests were distributing t-shirts. Some protesters took the offer and changed inside the confessional box.
We were trapped inside the church for ages. We couldnโt get out as police and plainclothes agents were waiting outside, ready to pounce on anyone who dared to show their faces outside of the churchโs confines. Priests and nuns negotiated with police for our release.
Eventually, when night fell, we were allowed to go. On one condition. We had to go out in pairs, holding hands. Looking like lovers! I got paired with someone from my home province and was able to get out.
My three sisters, other Pi Sigma Deltans, and I somehow managed to meet up after. But we couldnโt return to UP Diliman looking like drowned pink rats. There was a police blockade at the entrance to the UP Diliman University Avenue. Police stopped and went up all buses, inspecting passengers, at the entrance.
I suggested we proceed to a friendโs boarding house in nearby Malate. So off we went. We took a shower at the boarding house, getting rid of the pink dye. My friend lent us clothes to make us look like we just came from a party. Thus, there was no hassle returning to UP Diliman Kamia Residence Hall, our home away from home.
We found out later that many protesters got hurt badly from the truncheon blows. Some were arrested. And some of them were arrested whilst inside Sta. Cruz church. Yes, there were plainclothes agents there, too!
We must have been so good at acting as if nothing happened, as if we just had an ordinary day in the life of an โiskolar ng bayanโ. None of our other sisters in Pi Sigma Delta Sorority had a clue of the exciting, adrenaline-rushing experience we just had undergone! None of my roommates, either!
This is the first time Iโm sharing this personal experience publicly. I have shared this before, about a couple or more years back, in a Pi Sigma Delta Sorority group page. But I guess we, my Pi Sigma Deltan sisters and I who participated in the protest action, have so internalised the need for secrecy; so much so, that we never ever brought it up in any of our discussions!
Roni Oracion
Co-Founder, Pi Sigma Delta Sorority
18 September 2020
(Photo: Martial Law Chronicles)
