When I was a kid, still in first grade, our house in Antipolo was the only house along the main road in an underdeveloped subdivision. Looking back, it was obvious that it was a target for thieves. Even though we had “okay” security measures back then, they were all useless. Just one time someone opened the door without looking first, and that was it — they let us in. They stole all our belongings and severely beat up the elderly. Luckily, I was safe because my nanny covered me while we were on our hands and knees.
Fast forward three decades later, our once empty subdivision is now full of houses next to each other. Our walls are higher, the gate is thicker, and each door has three locks. Over time, our traumatic experience has been replaced by happy moments. That's why we are now confident that our place is safe.
But during the pandemic, we used that house again as an isolation area. When I got COVID, my husband and I decided to stay there for the two-week isolation. Even though I wasn't feeling well, our stay there was okay. Of course, what happened back then came to my mind, especially on our first night. But since the place has been quiet for years, I was confident that we were safe.
But I never thought it would happen again. One random Thursday, around 4:45 PM — yes, right around noon — the doorbell rang. Manong asked who it was, and the man said, "food delivery rider." Since we had often had food delivered before, Manong opened the door to accept the order. Unfortunately, it was like history replaying itself — with one wrong opening of the door, all our security measures collapsed. As soon as the door opened, Manong was pointed at a gun and knocked to the ground, while four men suddenly entered the house.
The thieves first went to our housemate's house on the same lot to pin him down as well. Then, two of them came straight for us. My husband pulled me and we quickly ran to the front door to escape. But when we got to the door, there was another man waiting outside — also holding a gun. My husband suddenly fought back to give me a chance to escape. I ran outside while shouting "Thief!" towards the guardhouse. It took a while for the guards to notice, but because of the many people on the street who were curious, the thieves panicked and ran away.
When the police arrived, it turned out that the thieves were targeting our housekeeper who had just received a P40,000 in relief payout about two hours before it happened. They probably planned to take it before it could be spent or deposited in the bank. In the end, I realized that no matter how tight your security is — no matter how high the walls are or how thick the locks are — just one wrong opening of the door without looking first can be the cause of disaster.
