Patricia Evangelista

A fearless, powerfully written on-the-ground account of a nation careening into violent autocracy—told through harrowing stories of the Philippines’ state-sanctioned killings of its citizens—from a journalist of international renown

“Tragic, elegant, vital . . . Evangelista risked her life to tell this story.”—Tara Westover, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Educated

“My job is to go to places where people die. I pack my bags, talk to the survivors, write my stories, then go home to wait for the next catastrophe. I don’t wait very long.”

Journalist Patricia Evangelista came of age in the aftermath of a street revolution that forged a new future for the Philippines. Three decades later, in the face of mounting inequality, the nation discovered the fragility of its democratic institutions under the regime of strongman Rodrigo Duterte.

Some People Need Killing is Evangelista’s meticulously reported and deeply human chronicle of the Philippines’ drug war. For six years, Evangelista chronicled the killings carried out by police and vigilantes in the name of Duterte’s war on drugs—a war that has led to the slaughter of thousands—immersing herself in the world of killers and survivors and capturing the atmosphere of fear created when an elected president decides that some lives are worth less than others.

The book takes its title from a vigilante whose words seemed to reflect the psychological accommodation that most of the country had made: “I’m really not a bad guy,” he said. “I’m not all bad. Some people need killing.”

A profound act of witness and a tour de force of literary journalism, Some People Need Killing is also a brilliant dissection of the grammar of violence and an important investigation of the human impulses to dominate and resist.

A Memoir of Murder in My Country

Some People Need Killing

nice

The truth was simpler: It takes longer to type a sentence than it does to kill a man.

A sentence cast in the passive voice is a statement of fact. One in the active voice is an accusation.

Even if Cristina sonmetimes forgot how many of her children were left— five, not four, as one neighbor corrected— she will remember how many the government has corrected killed.

Presidents begetting presidents, begetting vice presidents, rotating and revolving and rotating again.

"I said, gee, didn't they do a good job? They killed my son and didn't know what his name was.”

“I’m really not a bad guy," said Simon. "I’m not all bad. Some people need killing."

The government had been caught committing what could only be called murder— there was no way, after all, to claim that the killing of a bound and defenseless man was covered by a presumption of regularity.

It was to use facts only when convenient, to disavow their existence when contradictory, and "to deny the existence of objective reality and all the while to take account of the reality which one denies." How dare the cops murder? How dare they not kill?

Here then was the assumption of resistance in the drug war: you fought, and then you died.

If he wins, his dictatorship will not be thrust upon us. It will be one we will have chosen for ourselves.

Erwin Lemuel Oliva

   “In the eyes of the state, they were not fathers or mothers, sons or daughters. They were addicts, and addicts are disposable.”

   “The silence that follows a gunshot is not just the absence of sound; it is the heavy weight of complicity, the collective sigh of a society that has chosen to look away.”

   “When the state decides who lives and who dies, every bullet fired is a moral judgment, every death a testament to the fragility of human life in the face of power.”

4. On the aftermath of loss:   “For those left behind, the dead do not rest easy. They linger in the memories of those who loved them, haunting the spaces by where their absence is felt most keenly.”

5. On the importance of truth: “To tell the truth in times of war is an act of defiance. To reveal the lies, the half-truths, the hidden stories, is to wage a war of words against a war of bullets.”

“Some People Need Killing” is a searing indictment of the Duterte administration’s brutal campaign and a moving tribute to the victims who have been silenced by it. Patricia Evangelista’s work is not just a journalistic endeavor but a moral inquiry into the value of human life and the consequences of state-sponsored violence. It is a must-read for anyone seeking to understand the complex and often painful realities of contemporary Philippine society.

The discovery of those lies, and the subsequent case that was lost, were due only to a single irregularity in the daily circumstances of fatal police encounters under the administration of Rodrigo Duterte. That irregularity is named Efren Morillo.

...He is an irregularity, not because he is poor or illiterate or brave, but because he is alive.

A salvage yard is not a fenced-in patch of concrete with secondhand cars and vintage lamps for thrifting. A salvage yard is a street corner in Tondo, or the right lane of an overpass at dawn.

Sometimes the dead weren't drug dealers or corrupt mayors or human rights law- yers. Sometimes they were children, but they were killed anyway, and the president said they were collateral damage.

I was born in the year democracy returned to the Philippines. I am here to report its death.

chills down my spine! my brother my executioner moment 

camie⁷ 𓂃⊹ ˚ ༘`✦

“In my absolute loyalty to [the mayor’s] campaign, I had my own two brothers killed.”

her words are so gripping with every page i turn gosh

franz

The target lists were spoken of in whispers. Brothers and fathers and sons were sent out of Tondo to hide. "I couldn't sleep knowing the names of people who were about to die," said one Tondo resident who had heard the list read out. "I went to each of their mothers. I told them to run." 

Were they murders? The cops did not call these deaths murders. If they were not murders, was every Bulacan policeman, including the rawest of recruits, a marksman of such astonishing talent that every random armed encounter was met with such fatal accuracy? If they were not murders, how was it possible that police reported no casualties after twenty-five separate gunfights inside a single twenty-four-hour period? And if they were not murders, did every suspect who shot at the police miss the target?

Salvage-as-murder does not exist in most Filipino dictionaries. Nor does the definition appear in the many English-Filipino compendiums that are available for academic use. But every child in my country knows this meaning. We learn it before we learn how to spell it, we learn it long before we discover that the rest of the world does not hear it with the same dread. 

Rodrigo Duterte was used to shooting because he was shooting people. He was particular about the noun.

Diving deeper into Some People Need Killing right after finishing Qiang Jin Jiu, I'm doused with the cold realization that I might be actually living in a reality very similar to QJJ; except there seems to be no hope for a Shen Lanzhou, Xiao Chiye, Qi Huilian, Hai Liangyi, or Xue Xiuzhuo to appear and upend this corrupt government.

The first few times I wrote back. I said, with considerable righteous naiveté, that no person deserved abduction and torture, Communist or otherwise. It was a truth I thought was self-evident. I thought the problem was that the public didn't know, because if it did, it would rise up in the same roiling mass that had protested the atrocities of the 1970s and '80s.

I was wrong, of course. People knew, but by then the disappeared were no longer people.

I like Evangelista’s writing style a lot! Accessible and easy to follow. And she’s very thorough in her research - she starts by laying out the historical context that allowed Duterte to rise to power in the first place, and I respect the range of voices she includes as well. I appreciated that she included interviews from former Duterte supporters, and in ‘Acts of Contrition’ talks about their feelings of regret at voting for Duterte, which I think was a good way to end off.

this made me extremely emotional, definitely a must read 

Taira Robles

deeply moving…

I like Evangelista’s writing style a lot! Accessible and easy to follow. And she’s very thorough in her research - she starts by laying out the historical context that allowed Duterte to rise to power in the first place, and I respect the range of voices she includes as well. I appreciated that she included interviews from former Duterte supporters, and in ‘Acts of Contrition’ talks about their feelings of regret at voting for Duterte, which I think was a good way to end off.

this made me extremely emotional, definitely a must read 

“this is a book about the dead, and the people who are left behind. it is also a personal story, written in my own voice, as a citizen of a nation i cannot recognize as my own. the thousands who died were killed with the permission of my people. i am writing this book because i refuse to offer mine.”

this book is about my people, how their blood was used against them, a country who worshipped stories, and the years i have lived ignoring the pleas of our land. though yet to be a voter at the time, i was one of the people who believed the stories of the then-running for president, rodrigo duterte, the punisher of the south. this is the first book i have ever read written by a person i identify with. in this book, i learned about my languages, my country, my people, and history i took part in. it’s a shame, really, that i feel more comfortable using and reading the language of our colonizers rather than the mother tongue that raised me. pilipinas, ang hirap mong mahalin. 

開花

“this is a book about the dead, and the people who are left behind. it is also a personal story, written in my own voice, as a citizen of a nation i cannot recognize as my own. the thousands who died were killed with the permission of my people. i am writing this book because i refuse to offer mine.”

this book is about my people, how their blood was used against them, a country who worshipped stories, and the years i have lived ignoring the pleas of our land. though yet to be a voter at the time, i was one of the people who believed the stories of the then-running for president, rodrigo duterte, the punisher of the south. this is the first book i have ever read written by a person i identify with. in this book, i learned about my languages, my country, my people, and history i took part in. it’s a shame, really, that i feel more comfortable using and reading the language of our colonizers rather than the mother tongue that raised me. pilipinas, ang hirap mong mahalin. 

˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

I was hesitant from reading this book at first since I thought it was going to be boring, revolving around cold numbers or lengthy statistics. 

But the moment I’ve read the first chapter, I was already devastated. I’ve heard about EJKs before, yes, but I’ve never heard it the way the author tells her stories. It was heartbreaking and angering. I found myself curious for more each time I finish a chapter. Was the brutality really this bad? Is morality just a meaningless word right now?

A good read. An eye-opening read. An empathizing read. 

I was hesitant from reading this book at first since I thought it was going to be boring, revolving around cold numbers or lengthy statistics. 

But the moment I’ve read the first chapter, I was already devastated. I’ve heard about EJKs before, yes, but I’ve never heard it the way the author tells her stories. It was heartbreaking and angering. I found myself curious for more each time I finish a chapter. Was the brutality really this bad? Is morality just a meaningless word right now?

A good read. An eye-opening read. An empathizing read. 

The horrific stories of the drug war was to be expected; how the narratives were told and weaved into the country’s political history was a surprise. I appreciate the author’s voice throughout this book. It had accountability and self-awareness; the author was not the protagonist, but she was there. Rather than iterations of facts and details from news articles we’ve read already during the height of the drug war, Pat crafted a plot—how the events years before Duterte enabled his win, how the regime operated, and how the three families (Aquino, Duterte, Marcos) in PH politics brought us to this state, preceding and succeeding the drug war policy. I appreciate most that the book rather iterate the names of EJK victims who are fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and children to their families. They have been humanized the way the police reports did not. The book was right—the Aquinos, Dutertes, and Marcoses names have been ingrained in our memories, but we must let those fallen sit with these names so we continue to remember them, too. 

Tonight I will sleep with a heavy heart. Tomorrow, I shall remember the likes of Kian, Djastin, Rene, and many others in hopes of seeing a future where there will be no more of them.

jian

The horrific stories of the drug war was to be expected; how the narratives were told and weaved into the country’s political history was a surprise. I appreciate the author’s voice throughout this book. It had accountability and self-awareness; the author was not the protagonist, but she was there. Rather than iterations of facts and details from news articles we’ve read already during the height of the drug war, Pat crafted a plot—how the events years before Duterte enabled his win, how the regime operated, and how the three families (Aquino, Duterte, Marcos) in PH politics brought us to this state, preceding and succeeding the drug war policy. I appreciate most that the book rather iterate the names of EJK victims who are fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and children to their families. They have been humanized the way the police reports did not. The book was right—the Aquinos, Dutertes, and Marcoses names have been ingrained in our memories, but we must let those fallen sit with these names so we continue to remember them, too. 

Tonight I will sleep with a heavy heart. Tomorrow, I shall remember the likes of Kian, Djastin, Rene, and many others in hopes of seeing a future where there will be no more of them.

Patricia Evangelista’s “Some People Need Killing” is a powerful and deeply unsettling exploration of the human cost of the Philippine government’s war on drugs under President Rodrigo Duterte. The book blends rigorous investigative journalism with intimate storytelling to present a haunting portrait of a society in turmoil, grappling with violence, fear, and the complex moral ambiguities that arise when state-sanctioned killings become normalized.

1. State-Sanctioned Violence: Evangelista delves into the mechanisms of Duterte’s drug war, where extrajudicial killings are not just tolerated but often encouraged. She meticulously documents how this campaign has led to the deaths of thousands, many of whom were poor, marginalized individuals targeted without due process.

2. Humanizing the Victims: One of the most striking aspects of Evangelista’s work is her ability to humanize the victims of these killings. She provides detailed accounts of their lives, families, and the circumstances that led to their deaths. This approach challenges the reader to see beyond statistics and understand the deep personal and communal losses inflicted by the war on drugs.

3. Moral Ambiguity: The book grapples with the moral complexities of violence and justice. Evangelista does not shy away from depicting the nuances in the perspectives of those who support the killings, including some victims' families who believe that "some people need killing." This phrase encapsulates the tragic resignation and the skewed sense of justice that pervades communities affected by the drug war.

4. Journalistic Integrity: Evangelista’s investigative approach is rigorous and unflinching. She cross-examines official narratives, exposes contradictions, and holds those in power accountable. Her work serves as a testament to the critical role of journalism in exposing truths that might otherwise be buried or distorted.

5. The Aftermath and Impact: The book also explores the long-term impact of the drug war on Philippine society, including the trauma experienced by survivors, the erosion of trust in law enforcement, and the societal desensitization to violence. Evangelista paints a grim picture of a society that has become inured to bloodshed, where the line between justice and murder is increasingly blurred.

Patricia Evangelista’s “Some People Need Killing” is a powerful and deeply unsettling exploration of the human cost of the Philippine government’s war on drugs under President Rodrigo Duterte. The book blends rigorous investigative journalism with intimate storytelling to present a haunting portrait of a society in turmoil, grappling with violence, fear, and the complex moral ambiguities that arise when state-sanctioned killings become normalized.

Main Points of the Book

1. State-Sanctioned Violence: Evangelista delves into the mechanisms of Duterte’s drug war, where extrajudicial killings are not just tolerated but often encouraged. She meticulously documents how this campaign has led to the deaths of thousands, many of whom were poor, marginalized individuals targeted without due process.

2. Humanizing the Victims: One of the most striking aspects of Evangelista’s work is her ability to humanize the victims of these killings. She provides detailed accounts of their lives, families, and the circumstances that led to their deaths. This approach challenges the reader to see beyond statistics and understand the deep personal and communal losses inflicted by the war on drugs.

3. Moral Ambiguity: The book grapples with the moral complexities of violence and justice. Evangelista does not shy away from depicting the nuances in the perspectives of those who support the killings, including some victims' families who believe that "some people need killing." This phrase encapsulates the tragic resignation and the skewed sense of justice that pervades communities affected by the drug war.

4. Journalistic Integrity: Evangelista’s investigative approach is rigorous and unflinching. She cross-examines official narratives, exposes contradictions, and holds those in power accountable. Her work serves as a testament to the critical role of journalism in exposing truths that might otherwise be buried or distorted.

5. The Aftermath and Impact: The book also explores the long-term impact of the drug war on Philippine society, including the trauma experienced by survivors, the erosion of trust in law enforcement, and the societal desensitization to violence. Evangelista paints a grim picture of a society that has become inured to bloodshed, where the line between justice and murder is increasingly blurred.

Quotes Worth Sharing

1. On the dehumanization of victims:

   “In the eyes of the state, they were not fathers or mothers, sons or daughters. They were addicts, and addicts are disposable.”

2. On the complicity of silence:

   “The silence that follows a gunshot is not just the absence of sound; it is the heavy weight of complicity, the collective sigh of a society that has chosen to look away.”

3. On the moral cost of violence:

   “When the state decides who lives and who dies, every bullet fired is a moral judgment, every death a testament to the fragility of human life in the face of power.”

4. On the aftermath of loss:   “For those left behind, the dead do not rest easy. They linger in the memories of those who loved them, haunting the spaces by where their absence is felt most keenly.”

5. On the importance of truth: “To tell the truth in times of war is an act of defiance. To reveal the lies, the half-truths, the hidden stories, is to wage a war of words against a war of bullets.”

Final Thoughts

“Some People Need Killing” is a searing indictment of the Duterte administration’s brutal campaign and a moving tribute to the victims who have been silenced by it. Patricia Evangelista’s work is not just a journalistic endeavor but a moral inquiry into the value of human life and the consequences of state-sponsored violence. It is a must-read for anyone seeking to understand the complex and often painful realities of contemporary Philippine society.

Kath

"Once upon a time, we were heroes."

This book is heartbreaking. It feels like you are being brought to the past to feel the grudge all over again. It is very straightforward and honest. And we do need to take note that Patricia really did put her life in danger many times. 

The entire book could've been more precise and eliminated a lot of other nuances, though, so that it would not lose the flow of the story. Otherwise, it's a great book that will help future generations to know about what happened during the Duterte time.

The truth is harrowing and brutal. This book artfully and painfully paints the truth of what happened in my country during one of its most violent times. It brought tears to my eyes, and it reawakened the rage inside of me towards my government's callousness. Towards the path of justice, this book helps pave the way. 

Mirror

Gigi V

Hair raising. I hate that pockmarked bastard and his offsprings but I hate him even more now after reading this book.

Evangelista recounts what she’s seen under the Duterte administration while still examining the Filipinos and their relationship with current and past administrations. She exposes the realities and keeps Filipinos accountable for the deaths and consequences the nation experienced. 

I teared up with the epilogue - beautifully done. The Filipino is worth dying for. 

Ali Angco

Evangelista recounts what she’s seen under the Duterte administration while still examining the Filipinos and their relationship with current and past administrations. She exposes the realities and keeps Filipinos accountable for the deaths and consequences the nation experienced. 

I teared up with the epilogue - beautifully done. The Filipino is worth dying for. 

Some People Need Killing A Memoir of Murder in My Country

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