Execution Day - The GUIDON

On March 7, House Bill 4727 or the death penalty bill was passed after its third reading in the House of Representatives with a vote of 216 yes, 54 no, and one abstention. Its advocates believe that the bill will threaten depraved criminals with the only thing they seem to fear — death. It first happened on February 5, 1999. Six others followed, all sentenced to death during the term of then President Joseph Estrada, all of them killed either for rape or homicide. One of them was said to be innocent.

After the inmate is strip-searched, he or she is dressed in the prison uniform: an orange t-shirt and pants. He or she then leaves the cell under restraint and proceeds to the death chamber, escorted by four guards. For most of the day, the inmate will be contained in a holding cell. It has rubber-padded walls, lest the inmate kills himself before the law does.

To be on death row, this inmate would have been convicted of what RA 7659 lists as “heinous” crimes; acts impinged upon others that are so immoral and inhumane that to do them would be an abomination to human nature. Rape and homicide used to be heinous. Plunder as well. But the bill, now approved on its third and final reading in the House, has shifted the emphasis on what is heinous: drugs, from manufacture to importation. It had been watered down to exclude rape, plunder, and treason as crimes eligible for death penalty.

One guard stands by the door of the execution holding cell while the inmate enters. Another guard maintains the log, and the remaining two secure the entrance to the lethal injection chamber and the immediate surroundings. The photograph and fingerprints of the inmate are then taken by the chief of identification.

The chief of the New Bilibid Prison Hospital checks the inmate’s vital signs.

As tradition follows, after the inmate eats breakfast, he or she is given a choice for his or her last meal. Ideally, they may ask for anything they wish before they are strapped to the gurney.

Only official visitors may be allowed at this time and only at the door of the cell.

The chief of the Religious Guidance Office (or minister of choice) visits the inmate.

The supervising phlebotomist reviews the supply checklist for items which may have been overlooked.

Lethal injection was presumed to be the most humane execution method by the former Bureau of Corrections (BuCor) director Vicente G. Vinarao, who had proclaimed it to be the sole medium for carrying out the death penalty in 1997. Before the gurney, convicts were executed by electric chair, which is arguably more horrific. Death by electric chair required 3,300 volts that would burn flesh. It would fill the enclosed chamber with a foul smell and screams of agony from the condemned prisoner.

Now, the proposed bill had added death by hanging or firing squad to the list of methods of execution.

This is the only time the prisoner has to seek possible alternatives with his legal counsel or perhaps plead his innocence one last time. It is a matter between life and death. The prisoner bargains for the former.

Theodore Te, human rights lawyer and current Supreme Court (SC) spokesperson, was the first to challenge the constitutionality of the death penalty in the high court. He is a staunch anti-death penalty advocate, as he had helped Leo Echegaray, the first prisoner to be killed by lethal injection, appeal his case in 1994.

“How many [convicts] do you have to kill before you can say, ‘O kita mo? Deterrent! Titigil ‘yong crimes (See? It’s a deterrent! Crimes will stop),” he argues, dispelling the notion that the bill will address high crime rates.

After hours of waiting in uncertainty, the prisoner is told of the scheduled time of his execution: 3:00 PM sharp. The media and official witnesses are invited beforehand. They are bound to make a spectacle out of the absurdity.

One should never go with an empty stomach. The prisoner is given the privilege of choosing his final meal. His request is final and absolute and the officials must concede to his wishes. Lunch is served and he has the table all to himself.

Time becomes a precious resource to those on the brink of death. For one last time in the holding cell, he or she bids farewell to those who stayed by his or her side. The family of the prisoner and other visitors are ordered to leave the common area. This is their last goodbye.

The prisoner strips himself naked and takes his shower inside the cubicle, washing away the dirt of his dark past. He comes out clean and clad in an orange uniform, prepping himself for the conclusion.

The chief of the NBP Hospital arrives at the chamber to deliver the lethal reagents to the supervising phlebotomist and provide him with final instructions. Four syringes are neatly arranged on the table. Phlebotomists are medical professionals who receive formal medical training in administering injections and drawing blood. A single mistake with a syringe will botch the entire process.

The latter and the rest of his team are about to perform their terrifying task. The penultimate stage is as crucial as the last.

Phlebotomists are not doctors— they do not swear by the Hippocratic Oath. They are not bound by it to preserve life. At 12:45 PM of execution day, the chief phlebotomist at the NBP briefs the injection team. Today they end the life of the guilty. They begin by setting up the intravenous lines and checking the tubings for leaks. Then they prepare the chemicals.

At the holding center nearby, the witnesses are being assembled: four from the victim’s family, four from the convict’s, at least two slots for the media — more, if family members back out — and the rest are BuCor officials and staff.

The NBP chaplain or a religious minister of the prisoner’s choice enters the holding cell. He is the last person the convict will ever speak to face-to-face. Through him, the prisoner may ask his God for absolution. Msgr. Roberto Olaguer has been the NBP chaplain since the first execution until the present. He was there for the seven deaths on the gurney. Perhaps some of the prisoners wanted to be absolved.

For a while, the curtain dividing the execution room and viewing area is closed.

Absolved or not, the prisoner walks to the gurney. He is escorted by six custodial personnel as the chaplain or religious person trails after. The prisoner is then strapped to the gurney. Once the prisoner is strapped tight by the arms and ankles, the escorts leave the execution room. The chaplain stays as the injecting team secure the needles into the prisoner’s veins.

Witnesses— whoever decide to come— enter the viewing room.

During these critical minutes, the BuCor director sits in the room nearest the holding cell. With the hotline to the president’s office open, he waits for the red phone to ring. If it doesn’t, the execution pushes through. The NBP superintendent then enters the execution room. The BuCor director will tell him, “You may proceed.”

All the clocks in the chamber stop at 3:00 PM. The curtain of the viewing area is again opened. The witnesses will see the prisoner as he speaks his last words into the mic that hangs from the ceiling, directly above the gurney.

These are the chemicals that enter the prisoner’s veins: two doses of sodium pentothal to ensure loss of consciousness, a dose of pancuronium bromide to relax the muscles, and a dose of potassium chloride to induce cardiac arrest.

The first drug, they say, makes the cocktail humane. It gets rid of consciousness, hence pain. But the second drug ensures that the prisoner is unable to move and cry out if the first drug does not work; the cocktail anticipates the possibility for humaneness to fail. Finally, the third drug stops the heart and effectively causes death.

All reagents administered, BuCor and NBP officials check the prisoner for vital signs. If the drugs have done their work, the time of death is announced. The execution is complete.

Echegaray’s was the first execution since 1976. Six other inmates followed. One was found to be innocent. Flaws in the justice system have led to the mishandling of death penalty cases. Judicial error rates reached as high as 80 percent.

It was 2006 when capital punishment was abolished by former President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo and around a thousand death sentences were reduced to life imprisonment. A decade has already passed and the Duterte administration is now pushing for the return of the death penalty, being the first bill filed in the 17th Congress.

Unlike the previous law, major proponents of the bill introduced hanging and firing squad as alternative methods of execution. Heinous crimes such as plunder, rape, and treason were removed from the list of offenses punishable by death. Meanwhile, drug-related crimes remained.

As of this writing, the bill has already been approved in the House of Representatives and is now seeking approval from the Senate, which remains divided on the proposed bill. Approval from both chambers increases the odds of the bill’s passage into law.