“Do you understand what’s happening?” she asked Mark Darren, her youngest son. “If I don’t go home, it means that I’m already with God. Do you understand that?” The boy nodded and the two hugged, according to Filipino diplomats who accompanied Veloso’s family.
To her eldest son, 12-year-old Mark Daniel, Veloso insisted on her innocence. “Don’t think I died because I did something wrong. Be proud that your mother died owning up to the sins of others.”
Veloso was convicted of smuggling 2.6 kilograms of heroin hidden inside her suitcase in 2010. She has insisted that she did not know about the drugs and the luggage was given to her as a gift by a Malaysia-based African man introduced by her recruiter and friend.
The friend, Maria Kristine Sergio, turned herself in to police on Tuesday to seek protection from death threats. She is also seeking legal assistance against human trafficking charges. The development prompted Indonesia’s attorney general to stay Veloso’s execution at the last minute to allow her to testify against Sergio and other suspects who allegedly duped her into becoming a drug mule.
While the reprieve is temporary, her family, friends and the Philippine public are rejoicing over what they call a miracle. Veloso, a high-school dropout, is the youngest of five children of a poor farming couple in Cabanatuan City in the northern Philippine province of Nueva Ecija.
In 2009, she went to work as a domestic helper in Dubai. But she returned home just 10 months later after being the victim of an attempted rape. For three months, she tried to find work again but couldn’t. So when her friend Sergio offered her work in Malaysia, she jumped at the opportunity. With only two pairs of jeans, two T-shirts and some underwear, she went with Sergio to Kuala Lumpur in April 2010.
For four days, they stayed in a nice hotel, went shopping and ate out. In a statement to Philippine authorities, Veloso said she was told by Sergio that she had to go to Indonesia for seven days before starting her job in Malaysia. Sergio introduced her to an African man named Ike who gave her the suitcase because her clothes could no longer fit in her small backpack.
“I didn’t have a choice, I must go to Indonesia [so] I can start my work,” she said. “Work is important to me because of my children.”
When the drugs were discovered in her suitcase, Veloso said she knew her life was finished. “My body felt so cold and I couldn’t say anything,” she recalled. “The only thing I could do that time was cry and cry! Because I know my life is finished. I hated myself for believing in Kristine,” she said, adding that she should have been more careful in dealing with her.
Eight days before her scheduled execution, she posed and smiled during a fashion show marking Indonesian women’s emancipation day at the Wirogunan prison in Yogyakarta. In four farewell letters she gave to Philippine diplomats on April 25, Veloso wished better lives for Philippine youths and women.
“I don’t want you to experience the hardship I’ve been through,” she wrote. “Thus, don’t leave the country even though life could be difficult, at least you are with the people you love. Don’t waste your life. Never take nor sell drugs. It will bring nothing good to your life and will instead ruin you. Remember that the country’s future lies in your hands.”