My experience: Living again after losing the love of my life, my family and my country

In September 2015, Marites and her partner Robert were kidnapped from their boat near Samal Island in the Philippines. They were held for nine months in the jungle. Robert was murdered on 13 June 2016 and shortly after Marites was freed. She first heard about Hostage International from her brother’s sister and has been supported by the charity since 2019.  She has always said that talking about her experience and telling her story is an essential part of her recovery, and a way to honour the man she loved. She hopes one day to publish a book about her life, and here she shares a small part of her story: 

On 21 September 2015, my partner Robert, who was Canadian, and I, a Filipina, were docked on Samal Island when armed Abu Sayyaf militants stormed our boat and took us at gunpoint. In that moment, the life we had built together was torn away.

After we were captured, we were dragged from the boat and transported for three days and two nights in a traditional ‘bangka’ boat through rough seas. We were forced over razor-sharp coral and made to walk through dense forest until we reached a makeshift camp. Later, on the island of Jolo, we were marched day and night through the jungle while bombs exploded around us. Hearing those blasts was terrifying, but it also gave us hope that the Philippine military knew we were there.

There were four of us being held: Robert and me, another Canadian called John, and Kjartan, a Norwegian from a neighbouring yacht. Our captors demanded millions of dollars in ransom. But our families did not have that kind of money, and the Canadian government would not pay.

It was completely exhausting and terrifying. We were bitten by mosquitoes, given filthy food and dirty water, and constantly moved to avoid the military. The jungle was unforgiving, full of thorns and sharp branches. I had no proper shoes, and before long my clothes had turned to rags.

In spite of everything, Robert and I became even closer in captivity. We spoke about our childhoods and made plans for the future in case we made it home alive.

When no ransom was paid, our captors said the two Canadians would be killed. They gave a deadline for John’s murder as the 25 April 2016. The day before, John asked me to tell his daughters not to blame themselves and to tell them and his partner that he loved them. The following night John was killed.

Robert was murdered a couple of months later on 13 June 2016. We had known that this date would come and that morning I could feel the sadness in his eyes. He told me that if I had the chance to escape then I should take it and find the Philippine military barracks. He also told me that he heard something whispering in his ears that said, ‘don’t worry, I will protect you’.

For a long time, I carried these memories in silence but sharing them now is part of how I make sense of what happened and continue my journey of recovery.

The love we shared

Woven through the trauma of our kidnapping is our love story.  I am writing this now from the safety of Canada, where I live with my son in Robert’s home country.

As a child in the Philippines, despite growing up with very little, I had always dreamed of travelling and seeing more of the world. Robert helped make this a reality for me. I met Robert online in 2013 and we got to know each other by sending emails every day, talking on the phone and by video calls. It felt serious so in August 2014 we decided to travel to Manila to meet in person. The next day, we then flew to my hometown to meet my family. It was an incredibly happy time, and we fell deeply in love.

Robert took me sailing, taught me to swim, and stood beside me at my son’s high school graduation. It wasn’t always easy coming from such different backgrounds, but even when we were apart – whether he was in Canada visiting family or in Vietnam supporting a medical mission – we remained deeply connected.

A few months before we were kidnapped, he gave me his mother’s ring as a sign of his commitment to us forever.

Robert always wanted me to come to Canada. During our captivity, he told me I should leave the Philippines because it was no longer safe. I hold on to the belief that he would be glad to know that my son and I are now together and living in safety, because that was always part of his dream for us.

My early life

Before I met Robert, my life had already been shaped by hardship. I grew up in poverty in the Philippines and fought hard for an education. While at university, I, foolishly, fell in love with a boy from my village and became pregnant at 21. Suddenly, the future I had imagined for myself felt fragile and uncertain.

At first, I kept my pregnancy secret from my parents. I was frightened that I had brought shame on my family before finishing the degree they had worked so hard to help me pursue.

Although my baby’s father deserted me, his family did help for a time but I soon realised I needed to go home. My own family had already sensed that something was wrong because they had not heard from me for so long.

Soon after my son was born, I returned to live with my parents. It took time for my father to come to terms with how young a mother I was, but my parents helped raise my son and encouraged me to keep believing in a future for myself. Their support gave me the strength to keep going.

When I later moved away for work, my son stayed with them. Like so many parts of my life, that separation was painful, but it was also part of my trying to build a more secure future for him.

When Robert came into my life, he became a part of our family and he and my son shared a love of motorcycling as well as the sea. It was a beautiful moment when Robert had ribbon pinned on him at my son’s graduation ceremony – something usually only given to parents.

One of the hardest parts of our kidnapping was how much we missed our families. I missed my son so much and worried about him. I felt guilty for giving them such a horrible problem. One of the hardest points was at Christmas and new year as we always celebrate these holidays as a family. I often just looked up at the stars and wished that we could fly or disappear back home.

Release and what came after

The night before my release felt much like so many others during those nine months in the jungle. We were forced to keep moving along dark, difficult trails to stay ahead of the military, and there had already been clashes between Abu Sayyaf and government forces.

I was released on 24 June 2016, a few days after they had murdered Robert. Everything happened in a blur. I was picked up by private jet and could barely understand what was happening. I spoke to my parents on the phone, but even then I struggled to believe that I was finally free.

In the immediate aftermath, there were cameras, microphones and formal meetings, but all I wanted was to be with my family. Because my release had come as such a surprise no one was ready, so I had to wait for my family to come the next day to take me home.

My journey continues, but I hope that by sharing my story, people will better understand the reality of surviving terror, loss and displacement. More than anything, I want this story to stand as a testament to love, endurance and the long road of rebuilding a life after unimaginable trauma.

I also hope that my story will help to inspire people who have also survived terror and bereavement, and to show that it is possible to live on.

June 2026