Former President Rodrigo Duterte expressed a sentiment that could appeal to the emotions of his supporters. In a recent phone call from the International Criminal Court (ICC) detention facility in The Hague, he told his daughter, Vice President Sara Duterte, that he is an old man and can die at any time. He conveyed a wish to die in his home country and stated that everything he did was for the nation.

These are words that may resonate with his supporters, evoking the image of a man standing firm by his actions, even as he faces the judgment for alleged crimes against humanity. But for many Filipinos—particularly the families of the thousands of victims killed in the brutal war on drugs—these statements reopen wounds that have never truly healed.

The families of the victims and those who fought against the killings want him to live a long life so he can face justice. Death is an easy escape. It offers no accountability for the lives taken and the pain endured, leaving the families without the closure they deserve.

Duterte once claimed he was ready to face the consequences of his actions, but now that the reckoning has come, his pleas to return home and his attempt to frame his actions as acts of patriotism ring hollow to those who have suffered.

Sana naisip ni Rodrigo ang mga ito noong naging polisiya ang extrajudicial killing—noong pinagbabaril ang mga pinaghihinalaan sa harapan ng kanilang pamilya, noong binalot ng packing tape ang ulo ng mga pinaslang, noong nadamay ang mga bata, noong kinaladkad at binaril si Kian kahit nagmamakaawa na. Pilipino rin ang mga pinatay—silang walang kapangyarihan at kakayahan para banggain ang mga pasimuno ng patayan. Kahit anong gawing paglimot, hindi na sila magigising mula sa bangungot.

Hindi mas mahalaga ang kagustuhan ng isang dating pangulo na mamatay sa sariling bayan kaysa sa pagdurusa ng mga naging biktima.

Some may argue that Duterte’s age and frailty deserve compassion. Pero walang exempted sa batas—not even a former president. Amid all the theatrics, the question remains: has he ever shown remorse? Has he acknowledged the pain and trauma left in the wake of his policies?

Because in the end, what matters is not merely dying in one’s country—but dying with a sincere heart. Dying with the courage to admit one’s mistakes. Dying with humility, not arrogance. Real patriotism isn’t measured by where one takes their last breath, but by the legacy they leave behind—whether it is a legacy of justice, dignity, and accountability, or one of violence, impunity, and denial.

For his supporters, perhaps now is not the time to defend blindly, but to reflect. And maybe, to pray—not only for him, but for the soul of a country that still bears the weight of unanswered cries for justice.

Mike Manalaysay is the founder and editor-in-chief of Arkipelago News. A seasoned journalist with over two decades of experience, he is committed to defending truth and justice and holding those in power accountable.