Bang, bang! Gunshots were fired into the open sky, or so I thought. I wondered if that shot was meant for anyone in particular or was it just because Ramadhan was fast approaching. Nevertheless, I continued on eating at the rooftop of my Lola's house. Here in Marawi, you learn to live life with striking beliefs and you adapt to their culture. A gunshot could mean many things; it could either be that there is a rido family feud or a festive celebration of some kind. When I first encountered such peculiar tradition, I panicked, shouted, cried and hid behind...
cliff, to look after them, and to guide them in the right path. I writhe in pain when I hear Muslims being stamped with the word "terrorist" on it. I've known Muslims, Maranaos at least, my entire life and I strongly disagree with such. My people have no fault of having born to live a life as simple and conservative as they have been. Their beliefs and principles they want to inculcate in others' minds -- the peace, tranquility, and love for humankind Islam has to offer.

Yes, we are rebels. Rebels we are proud to be.