Declamation Piece- “AM I TO BE BLAMED?

”
They’re chasing me, they’re chasing, no they must not catch me, I have enough money now, yes enough for my starving
mother and brothers.
Please let me go, let me go home before you imprisoned me.
Very well, officers? take me to your headquarters. Good morning captain! no captain, you are mistaken, I was once a
good girl, just like the rest of you here. Just like any of your daughters. But time was, when I was reared in slums. But we
lived honestly, we lived honestly in life. My, father, mother, brothers, sisters and I. But then, poverty enters the portals of
our home. My father became jobless, my mother got ill. The small savings that my mother had kept for our expenses were
spent. All for our daily needs and her needed medicine.
One night, my father went out, telling us that he would come back in a few minutes with plenty of foods and money, but
that was the last time I saw him. He went with another woman. If only I could lay my hands on his neck I would wring it
without pain until he breaths no more. If you were in my place, you’ll do it, won’t you Captain? What? you won’t still
believe in me?. Come and I’ll show you a dilapidated shanty by a railroad.
Mother, mother I’m home, mother? mother?!. There Captain, see my dead mother. Captain? there are tears in your eyes?
now pack this stolen money and return it to the owner. What good would this do to my mother now? she’s already gone!
Do you hear me? she’s already gone. Am I to be blamed for the things I have done?

VENGEANCE IS NOT OURS; IT’S GOD’S

Alms, alms, alms. Spare me a piece of bread. Spare me your mercy.
I am a child so young, so thin, and so ragged.
Why are you staring at me?
With my eyes I cannot see but I know that you are all staring at me. Why are you whispering to one another? Why? Do
you know my mother? Do you know my father? Did you know me five years ago?
Yes, five years of bitterness have passed. It was one lovely evening – my father was sitting in his favorite big chair in the
sala. My mother was singing and very happy playing the piano while I danced for them. We were very happy indeed!
Suddenly, five loud knocks were heard at the door, and deep silence ensued.
Did the cruel Nippon’s discover our peaceful home? Mother ran trembling to Father’s side pleading, “Please, Julian, hide
in the cellar… they cannot find you there!” I pulled my father’s hand but he did not move. It seemed as though his feet
were glued to the floor. He embraced mother and me, took us protectively in his loving arms.
The door went bang! And before us five ugly beasts came barging in. “Are you Captain Julian Santos?” roared the ugliest
of them all. “Yes,” my father, “what do you want?”
You are under arrest,” said the leader of the beasts. They pulled father roughly away from us. Father wasn’t given a
chance to bid us goodbye.
We followed them mile after mile. We were hungry and thirsty. We passed a group of Japanese eating and drinking. Oh,
how our mouths watered seeing the delicious fruits they were eating,
So sudden; we heard a familiar a voice call. At first it was loud and clear, then fainter, fainter, fainter: “Consuelo. . . .
Pacita . . . Consuelo. . . . Pacita. . . . Consuelo. . . . Pacita. . . .” we ran towards the direction of the voice, but it was too
late. We saw father hanging on a tree. . . . dead. Oh, it was terrible. He had been badly beaten and tortured before he was
killed. . . .
Everything went black. The next thing I knew was nursing my poor sick mother in our house.
One day, we heard the church bell ringing “ding-dong, ding-dong! Ding-dong, ding-dong” It was an alarm for us to find a
shelter in our hide-out, but I could not leave my poor invalid mother, I tried to lead her the way to our hide-out. There as
confusion all around. Cannons were firing somewhere. Airplanes were roaring overhead, bombs were bursting all around,
Boom, Boom, boom and boom! Mother was hit. Her legs were shattered into bits; I took her gently in my arms and
shouted. “I’ll have vengeance, vengeance, vengeance! “No Pacita, vengeance is not ours, it’s God’s.” said my poor
mother, and she died
New strength surged within me. Mother was dead and I was blind. I must live to avenge! Vengeance is mine! Not the
Lord’s!
Vengeance is not ours? To forgive is divine but vengeance is sweeter.
That was five years ago, five years. . . .
Alms, alms, alms. Spare me a piece of bread. Spare me your mercy. I am a child so young, so thin, and so ragged.
Vengeance is not ours, its God’s. . . . It’s. . . . God’s. . It’s…
“Mama, I’m home! It’s very quiet. “Mama, I’m home!” Nobody answers. Where is she? I look for her in the sala, but
she’s not there. Where is she? A-huh! In the kitchen!
I saw my mama, lying down on the floor, dead. With a glass on her hand. I remember, she tried to get it.
Oh, God, just for the glass of cold water! Mama! Mama! Oh, Mama!