Bereaved must find funds to cremate loved ones or face having them buried in a common grave
Four white marble urns are placed on a table at the front of Panay Chapel. It’s a Sunday morning in Quezon City, and only the distant sound of an occasional passing car can be heard. Sarah Celiz steps forward from the pews and helps to cover the urns with a crisp white cloth. A wooden cross is gently placed on top.
Two of the urns contain the ashes of Celiz’s sons, Almon and Dicklie. They were killed, six months apart, in 2017 during Philippine president Rodrigo Duterte’s so-called war on drugs, a merciless crackdown that mostly targeted young men living in poor, urban areas. Celiz, who was left caring for 12 grandchildren, could barely afford for her sons to be buried. She managed to pay about 10,000 pesos (£150) for two temporary “apartment graves”, concrete boxes piled as high as eight stories, in a public cemetery in Caloocan, greater Manila. The grave leases expired this year.
