Kerwin Espinosa’s testimony at the Oct. 11 hearing of the House of Representatives’ quad committee dredged an 8-year-old case from the swamp of oblivion. The killing by state forces of his father, Mayor Rolando Espinosa of Albuera, Leyte, while incarcerated at the Baybay Sub-Provincial Jail, was a shocking development in President Rodrigo Duterte’s young administration. But it was at that time “only” one among many shocking developments in the “war on drugs” and eventually went the way of the other cases, sliding down the range of public attention.

It was off the radar but not entirely forgotten: When Kerwin Espinosa was asked to identify from among those present the officer involved in his father’s killing and he gestured towards Col. Marvin Marcos, a recollection of the crime came fairly easily to the attentive observer. Later, the facts of the case would just as easily be retrieved from reportage back in the day: Then Superintendent Marcos led the team from the Philippine National Police’s Criminal Investigation and Detection Group-Region 8 that raided the jail in the wee hours of Nov. 5, 2016, disarmed the jail guards and ordered them to look the other way, and, in the course of a “firefight,” took out the mayor and another inmate, Raul Yap.

Now here was Kerwin Espinosa demanding justice for his father who, he said, was “killed like an animal.” Described in reports as a “self-confessed drug lord” and recorded as among the drug felons who charged then Sen. Leila de Lima with involvement in the trade in illegal drugs at the national penitentiary—an accusation he has formally recanted and publicly apologized for more than once—he told the quad committee that he had watched others speak of what they knew of the extrajudicial killings in the past regime, and was now taking his turn to testify.

Hearsay

Kerwin Espinosa has been cleared of the drug charges filed against him in court, according to his lawyer. Yet he is hardly the ideal whistleblower. He is not an eyewitness to his father’s killing. His recounting is based on the accounts of other inmates and is therefore not more than hearsay, as the lawmakers pointed out. He sang different tunes once upon a time in an inquiry at the Senate. And his intention to run as mayor of his hometown of Albuera in the 2025 elections puts a political spin on his current stance, as well as his claims that it was Duterte who had ordered the strike on his father and that now Sen. Ronaldo “Bato” dela Rosa, then the PNP chief, had coerced him into ratting on De Lima. (Dela Rosa angrily denied the accusation and threatened him with a punch in the face.)

Still, the sponsorship speech delivered on March 13, 2017, by then Sen. Panfilo Lacson for the committee report on the Senate inquiry into Mayor Espinosa’s killing provides substantial information on what went down in the previous November at the Baybay Sub-Provincial Jail.

The inquiry was conducted by the committees on public order and dangerous drugs chaired by Lacson and on justice and human rights chaired by then Sen. Richard Gordon. (Gordon replaced De Lima as committee chair after her ouster by her peers on a vote of 16-4-2 for supposed “bias” in her own inquiry into the killing of thousands of alleged drug dealers and users since Duterte became president.) The Joint Committee conducted three public hearings and one executive session and concluded “that the killing of Mayor Espinosa was not a result of a legitimate police operation but rather a case of premeditated murder.”

In his speech, Lacson among others questioned the search warrants “maliciously” obtained by the raiding team; declared that the affidavits submitted by jail guards and inmates did not corroborate the accounts of Marcos and Chief Insp. Leo Laraga; and pronounced as “incredible” Laraga’s story of how he was able to fire at Mayor Espinosa in the “total darkness” of the latter’s cell. 

The warrants were ostensibly for the search of the mayor’s cell for illegal drugs and firearms. (Such a search—an “Oplan Galugad”—reportedly conducted by authorities days earlier in the jail produced negative results.) Quoting inmates, Kerwin Espinosa said the mayor was heard telling the raiders not to kill him, there are no guns in his cell.

‘Nanlaban’

Contrary to the raiding team’s claim that the mayor resisted and was killed (“nanlaban at napatay”), he was “silenced” by persons who wanted to hide their involvement in Kerwin Espinosa’s drug dealings, according to Lacson.

“Why would Mayor Espinosa even attempt to put up a fight while he was trapped inside a prison cell with nowhere to go?” Lacson wondered. “Not to mention that he had surrendered and was fully cooperating, hoping to become a state witness? Nothing makes sense.”

Eagle News reported that on Aug. 2, 2016, having been tagged as a drug lord and fearing for his life, Mayor Espinosa traveled from Leyte to Camp Crame to surrender to PNP chief Bato dela Rosa. He was back in Albuera on Aug. 16. He was arrested on Oct. 5 for illegal possession of drugs and firearms and was held at the Baybay jail. The charges were based on the drugs and firearms supposedly found in his home during a police raid.

Lacson observed that Dela Rosa had ordered Marcos and his men relieved of their posts in PNP-CIDG 8 but that Duterte recalled them. “This Joint Committee is of the opinion that the President should not be micro-managing the affairs of the government and should place his trust in the sound discretion of his appointees…” said Lacson, himself a “chief, PNP” during the Estrada administration.

Included in Lacson’s speech was the Joint Committee’s request to the judiciary to determine the liabilities, if any, of the judge who did not act on Mayor Espinosa’s petition for transfer to a safer prison despite his expressed intention “to cooperate with the government in its fight against illegal drugs,” and of the two judges who issued search warrants for persons detained in government facilities outside their respective jurisdictions. 

The inquiry having been conducted in aid of legislation, the Joint Committee proposed certain legislative measures, including amending Article 183 of the Revised Penal Code to raise the penalty for false testimony or perjury. “Damage or injury caused by perjury is no less similar to planting of evidence,” Lacson said.

Significantly, it also recommended the strengthening of the functions and mandates of the PNP’s Internal Affairs Service (or a push for the expansion of its investigative powers) and an assessment of “the foundation of police training so as to instill the right culture, values and discipline expected from uniformed personnel.” 

Lacson likewise expressed “strong condemnation” of the killing of Mayor Espinosa and his fellow inmate Yap. He said—as early as then, March 2017—that the war on drugs had reached  “unparalleled heights that will be remembered as part of our nation’s history.” He ventured that the battle might have been won at that time through the exposure of “rogue uniformed personnel,” but acknowledged that triumph had yet to be achieved in the war to expose the truth.

Resolution 

As in a movie, where exactly did all these lead? Young Filipinos intrigued by Kerwin Espinosa’s testimony might want to know.  

Here’s what happened in this story for our times: Marcos and the 18 other members of the raiding team have been cleared of liability for the killing of Mayor Rolando Espinosa and Raul Yap. Per reports, the case moved relatively quickly in this country where many defendants endure years, even decades, of waiting in prison for resolution. 

In December 2016 the National Bureau of Investigation filed murder complaints against Marcos et al. “The pieces of evidence, both testimonial and forensic, all agree,” the NBI was reported as saying. “We believe we have a very strong case.” 

In June 2017 the Department of Justice downgraded the double murder charges to homicide on grounds that “nothing in the records” could prove premeditation. Marcos et al. were granted bail. In July 2017 Marcos was announced up for promotion to senior superintendent.

In October 2021 a Quezon City court cleared Marcos and the 18 others of the crime, the prosecution having been deemed unable to prove their guilt.

Read more: The personal is political in ‘And So It Begins’