After Ayessa’s Burial, a Tacloban Home is Left in Silence and Grief

Posted on July 2, 2026 at 6:07 pm

TACLOBAN CITY — Since 14 year old Ayessa Dazo was laid to rest on July 1, her family’s home has felt different in a way they struggle to describe.

It is quieter now.

Too quiet.

There are no footsteps rushing out of the bedroom before school. No voice calling out to her younger siblings. No laughter that used to spill into the living room after classes. Even the ordinary sounds of daily life feel absent, as if the house itself has stopped moving with them.

In one corner of their home, Ayessa’s school belongings remain untouched.

Her father, Nico Dazo, says they still cannot bring themselves to move them.

“We’re still adjusting,” he said softly. But he admits there is nothing easy about adjusting to a loss like this.

The eldest who held the family together

Ayessa was the eldest of three children, and at home she naturally took on the role of ate who looked after everyone.

Her father remembers her as affectionate and caring. Always the first to check on her siblings, always quick to help at home, and never one to leave the house without a hug.

“Malambing siya,” he said. “Very loving.”

Like many teenagers, she had dreams. But most of what she talked about were not just for herself.

She wanted to finish school so she could help her family. Her father would always tell her the same thing: study for herself first.

But Ayessa, he said, had a different kind of thinking. She wanted to give back.

She also had small joys that made her laugh, watching motorcycle videos online and joking about owning a big bike someday. Her father would tease her every time, not knowing those conversations would one day feel like something far heavier than memories.

The morning that turned into grief

The day began like any other.

Ayessa went to school. Her father left for work as a security guard.

He was on duty when messages started spreading, there had been a shooting at San Jose National High School.

At first, he tried to stay calm. But the details kept coming, and fear slowly took over.

He left his post and hurried to the school. Traffic slowed him down, forcing him to get off and run the rest of the way.

Near the school gate, someone met him with words he will never forget.

His daughter had been shot.

She was already being rushed to the hospital.

Inside the classroom

Ayessa had been inside her classroom when the shooting happened. She was hit in the chest.

Teachers and school staff rushed to help. With no ambulance immediately available, they carried her into a private vehicle and sped to the hospital, hoping there was still time.

There wasn’t. Instead of bringing her home after school, her father found himself facing the hardest moment of his life.

As a security guard, Nico Dazo has spent years protecting people he does not know.

But he could not protect his own daughter.

That thought stays with him.

He once spoke to Ayessa after her death, asking for forgiveness, his voice breaking as he struggled to hold himself together. He said sorry for not being there when she needed him most.

It is a kind of pain he says he cannot escape.

Looking for answers

While the family continues to mourn, they are also trying to understand what comes next.

Ayessa’s father said he is struggling with how the suspects, all minors, are being handled. He worries about whether justice will truly be served.

He has pointed to a suspect he refers to as “Nash,” whom he believes fired the shot that killed his daughter.

For the family, the legal process feels distant compared to the reality they wake up to every day.

A home that no longer feels the same

Outside their home, conversations have started about school safety, taller fences, tighter security, and more protection for students.

Inside, those discussions feel far away.

No safety measure can replace a daughter. No change in policy can bring back what they lost.

The family does not know what the coming days will look like. Plans for the future, graduation, work, even simple jokes about motorcycles, now feel like they belong to another time.

For now, they live one day at a time, holding on to memories because that is all that remains.

And in a home that once felt full of life, a father sits with the memory of an ordinary morning he now wishes he could relive again.

Photo: Nico Dazo, father of Ayessa Dazo
Photo by: Jazmin Bonifacio | Vanguard