Something's changed.

Jhaharimin couldn't explain it, but he could sense it. His hands, after all, have been working this cornfield for years. If this land had a pulse, Jhaharimin’s finger was on it.

There was something wrong, whatever it was.

He and his father, Abdul, haven’t had a decent harvest since the day the 55th Special Action Company perished in their fields. On January 25, 2015, overwhelming enemy fire trapped the SAF blocking force within the confines of their crops. The MILF, BIFF, and private armed groups methodically picked away at the troopers until 35 of the 36 lay dead.

Now, the cornfield and the wooden bridge of Tukanalipao attached to it share an infamy that the residents never asked for. But since the Mamasapano clash happened days before Jhaharimin and Abdul’s harvest, they count the ruined crops as part of the carnage that occurred.

They planted 90 sacks worth of corn that year, but only 30 were left at the end of the encounter. Abdul remembers how he found their corn riddled with blood and bullets, the feel of death spreading thick on the land that kept his family alive.

Abdul said their harvest six months after the clash was no good, either. And now, much of the third harvest that Jhaharimin was currently working on has been eaten by an infestation of rats, a plague they have never experienced before.

It was just mid-afternoon when Abdul told his story from their hut, all the while peeling the skin off the corn that had been picked the day before. Jhaharimin was still out in the fields, but he instructed his son to come home soon.

They are convinced that the land is haunted. A family, so accustomed to war, now cowers in fear of the voices they hear crying in their fields.