Cheryl L. Daytec-Yañgot is a Filipino human rights lawyer and activist. A member of an indigenous cultural community, she is also very passionate about the rights of indigenous peoples. This is reflected in her poetry.
She started writing at a very tender age, beginning with correspondences with missionaries and friends. She was the editor-in-chief of her high school paper. In college she was an editor of two campus papers and won various awards for literary works.
Named one of the Ten Outstanding Students of the Philippines in 1999 for exemplary community involvement, activism and academic performance, she continues to search for justice and social equity. She believes that poetry has an indispensable role in societal transformation which has become her obsession. Her poems often deal with injustice and oppression, love and passion, and what she calls 'the enigma in between.'
'Words, spoken loudly by the throng, can put down an oppressive status quo, ' she says, as she encourages people to assert freedom of expression and use it to promote social change. She admires Jesus Christ, Karl Marx, Che Guevara and the Filipino revolutionary Andres Bonifacio 'who consecrated their lives for the freedom of human beings from the shackles of oppression.'
Many of her poems were published, mostly by progressive publications. Some were translated by other poets in Tagalog, the language of the Philippine majority culture.
A practising attorney, Cheryl Daytec-Yañgot is also an Associate Professor in St. Louis University, Baguio City, Philippines.
by: Elton Jun Veloria
When I was young, you’d hold my hand
We’d swim the seas, explore the land
When ghouls and trolls would visit me
I’d call your name and they would flee
...
Love expressed in stones
Of assorted colors
The sea-green jade
The blue chevron beads
...
If Kabunian gave you a land of milk and honey
and ordered you to take care of it for posterity
What will you do if intruders want to take
it away?
...
The lights would not blink in the household of his class
Dreams were forbidden, slums plunged in deep shadow
The wide farmlands where staple corn and rice should grow
Were pools of blood from martyrs now and of time past
...
On this day, we remember the women and men
All too aware that death was their destiny certain
When in darkness and doom they scattered flames
A big number without faces, many without names
...