Splotches of blood and streaks of tears stained the paper where Julius Soriano’s 24 years were summarized into details like name
Splotches of blood and streaks of tears stained the paper where Julius Soriano's 24 years were summarized into details like name, age and cause of death. His sister, Ginnalyn, paused in between blanks to cry and wipe away tears, as if recalling every bit of information were painful. "My hands are shaking," she sobbed, apologizing to the funeral home manager for her barely legible writing. Ginnalyn, 21, and her youngest brother, Jonas, never left Julius's side when they confirmed that the one who was shot was their oldest brother. They rode with the body collectors to the funeral home and clung to each other as the body bag was laid on a slab in the morgue. There, Ginnalyn threw herself on top of Julius. His shirt was raised and blood streamed out from the three bullet wounds on his chest. She wrapped his lifeless arms around her waist, staining her white t-shirt from the bullet wound on his right forearm. On the paper listing the details of Julius's life, there was one word that Ginnalyn managed to write clearly. It was the last line asking for the person's relation to the deceased. In that line, she wrote "KUYA". The Filipino word for "older brother". *** For this #pulitzercenter project, I'm working with photojournalist James Whitlow Delano to explore what happens to families whose communities are made into the frontlines of the Duterte Administration's War on Drugs and what happens to a society that watches this unfold. "In Defense, In Defiance of Duterte" is funded by the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting. Photo by James Whitlow Delano. June 2017. Ms. Ginnalyn Soriano, near left and her youngest brother, Jonas, at the morgue with their eldest brother, Julius. Special thanks to Guill Ramos for extraordinary research and personal connection to the people we are documenting.