Journalists can be fiercely competitive, but in the field, especially in the line of fire, we’re comrades watching each other’s backs. 

I thought of this reality again when my colleague, the ace reporter Raffy Tima, posted a vintage group photograph from 24 years ago in Lamitan, Basilan. I’m there with 14 other journalist colleagues from various news organizations, just after we had survived one of the most harrowing experiences in our lives. 

We had converged that day in June 2001 in that seaside town to witness what we thought would be the end of a hostage crisis, the biggest story of the time. Instead, the Abu Sayyaf hostage takers got away with their prized American captives despite being surrounded by soldiers in Lamitan’s hospital compound. At least ten people were killed in a day-long battle. Covering solo then for The Probe Team, I had shot video of the young tank operator and PMA grad Lt. Kenneth Bulong just before he was killed inside his armored vehicle by a rocket-propelled grenade. I’ll never forget his handsome, worry-stricken face. 

Our band of journos were lucky to escape intact. 

The Army’s armor had actually enabled us to evade gunfire during the fierce battle. Abu Sayyaf gunmen were in a church tower firing down on our vulnerable posse of reporters as we huddled near soldiers we were interviewing when the firefight erupted. An armored personnel carrier was placed in the street so we could run behind it to the other side where we wouldn’t be visible to the snipers. I remember bullets flying around us and my knees shaking as I navigated that narrow path to safety, the armor providing a partial shield. We probably owe our lives to the soldiers inside that armored vehicle. 

We journalists agreed we would all flee Lamitan together, but not before assembling for that group pic that I had not previously seen. Raffy posted it in memory of one of the journalists in the photo, Julie Alipala, who died last April 3, 2025 after battling cancer for eight months. 

Gazing at the photo, I realized that all the journalists there came from Manila except for Julie, who just crossed the sea channel from her hometown of Zamboanga. She even had relatives who lived in Basilan. I think it was the first time I saw her, but far from the last. 

For a large swath of Mindanao for the next 24 years, Julie Alipala would be the nation’s eyes and ears, as the Philippine Daily Inquirer’s intrepid and much respected reporter in the region. Her reporting in Lamitan that day would lead to stories about collusion between senior military officers and Abu Sayyaf kidnappers, a conspiracy that enabled the latter to escape with their hostages. 

In some tributes to Julie, she was called a “chronicler of conflict” but also of “peace building.” Many obituaries of journalists would just highlight their war coverage, but her readers and colleagues knew Julie was just as committed to reporting on the pathways to peace and the civilian communities most affected by war. 

As I saw in Lamitan, Julie didn’t shy away from the unpredictable dangers of Mindanao’s asymmetrical  wars, when bullets can come from any direction. Many journalists in fact aspire to cover combat, often seen as the ultimate test of a reporter’s bravery and acumen. But that might not even have been the hardest part of Julie’s job. 

She took pains to understand the delicate peace processes in Mindanao that gave hope that the bloodshed would end and justice would prevail. Covering peace demanded following intricate negotiations, and appreciating cultural nuances without any promise of front-page treatment for her stories, unlike war reportage which often led the news. 

Julie’s world was always larger than the region she covered. She often attended national conferences, and sometimes international ones, where she would share her Mindanao perspective and encourage younger journalists to stay true to their values despite the temptations to compromise. She could have migrated to Manila like many promising journalists, but she persisted in Zamboanga where she practiced her profession with ruthless integrity.

She had a network of sources in the military, yet didn’t flinch when she had to report on alleged malfeasance in the ranks. After she reported in 2018 that seven men that the Army killed in Jolo could have been innocent farmers rather than members of the Abu Sayyaf, she was smeared online as both a terrorist and journalist-for-hire. She fought back by reporting the slander, sought to have a malicious Facebook page taken down, and mobilized colleagues to support her. 

Scrolling through our years of messaging, I recall discussing how her concerted effort could be a model for how other journalists can respond to similar online attacks. 

Even in a far corner of the archipelago, her conscience cast an expansive light. She once reported a journalist friend, a newsroom leader, caught soliciting “baon” from a prominent politician. Years later she would message me, “I know he still feels bad about me, but sometimes we need to sacrifice friendship over principles.” 

Not too many would make that choice. But the journalism profession is lucky that there are those like Julie. 

In that precious group picture that Raffy Tima shared, Julie was not just the only journalist based in Mindanao; she was one of only two women in the photo, the other being Maki Pulido of GMA News. 

I can only imagine how difficult it is for a woman to cover conflict, and I’m not even thinking of the danger. 

The battlefield — and by extension military detachments and field camps — are traditionally all-male domains where the charged atmosphere is thick with testosterone. Women are not always welcome and often made to feel it. 

In addition to the other demands of getting the story, women journalists in the Philippines frequently need to overcome the twin hurdles of machismo and misogyny. 

But women must also be there covering on the frontlines because of the sensitivity they bring. They understand better than most men the cost of conflict to civilians, and thus are more attentive to the effects on children and their families. 

Last March, a large group of women journalists met up in Boracay to discuss safety concerns, trade tips, and reforge their solidarity. Making the trip from Zamboanga was Julie Alipala, severely weakened but undeterred by her illness. More than most, she had stories to tell and lessons to share. They marked International Women’s Day there. It was Julie’s first trip to Boracay. In less than a month, she would be gone.