Leila de Lima is no stranger to adversity. A seasoned public servant, human rights advocate, and former senator, she has spent decades fighting for justice and democracy in the Philippines.
But her journey has also been one of resilience—of standing her ground in the face of relentless attacks, false accusations, and six years of unjust detention.
As we celebrate National Women’s Month this March, de Lima’s story powerfully reminds us of the courage it takes for women to speak up and lead, especially in politics.
The woman behind the fight
Before becoming a senator in 2016, de Lima made a name for herself as a fierce human rights defender. She served as the Chairperson of the Commission on Human Rights (2008–2010) and later as Secretary of Justice under President Benigno Aquino III (2010–2015).
Her tenure in both positions was marked by bold efforts to expose corruption, uphold human rights, and go after powerful figures involved in illegal activities, including the 2009 probe she led as CHR chair into the so-called Davao Death Squad of then-Mayor Rodrigo Duterte. But those same efforts also made her a target.
When Duterte became president in 2016, de Lima became one of his most vocal critics, particularly regarding his bloody war on drugs. Not long after, she found herself at the center of a politically motivated campaign to silence her.
The government accused her of drug-related offenses based on testimonies from convicted criminals. The charges were widely condemned as fabricated, meant to discredit and punish her for challenging the administration. In February 2017, she was arrested and detained at the Philippine National Police Custodial Center in Camp Crame.
A prisoner of conscience
For nearly seven years, Leila de Lima remained behind bars, enduring not only physical confinement but also an orchestrated smear campaign. She was subjected to slut-shaming, misogynistic attacks, and fabricated stories designed to destroy her reputation. At one point, Duterte himself claimed there was an explicit video of her—an accusation she repeatedly denied. The aim was clear: to humiliate and break her spirit.
But she refused to be silenced.
Even from detention, de Lima continued to speak out on human rights issues, writing letters, issuing statements, and staying engaged in national affairs. She also faced one of the most terrifying moments of her life when, in October 2022, an Abu Sayyaf member took her hostage inside the detention facility.
The attack raised questions about security lapses, with reports indicating that security cameras were down and only one guard was present when there were usually more.
Her her hands and feet were tied, and she was blindfolded. After several grueling hours of being held hostage, de Lima prepared for the worst.
Death seemed inevitable as the hostage-taker kept the muzzle of his gun firmly positioned over her heart.
She survived the ordeal after then-Police Colonel (now Brigadier General) Mark Pespes, a native of Tadian, Mountain Province, took a chance when the hostage-taker asked for some water. Pespes shot him at close range.
The long road to justice
In November 2023, de Lima was finally granted bail. It was a moment of relief but not yet a full victory—her fight for justice continues. She and her legal team are now preparing to file cases against those responsible for her wrongful imprisonment, including former President Duterte, former Justice Secretary Vitaliano Aguirre, and former PNP Chief Bato Dela Rosa. According to de Lima, filing cases isn’t about revenge or vindictiveness—it’s about accountability and justice.
“I lost nearly seven years of my life. I was 57 when they jailed me, and I became a senior citizen while in prison,” she said. “That’s 2,454 days. No one should have to go through that.”
Violence against women in politics
De Lima’s experience highlights a problem that extends beyond her: violence against women in politics (VAWP). Women in public office often face attacks that have nothing to do with their policies or leadership but instead focus on their personal lives, morality, and even their bodies (remember the fabricated stories about Leni Robredo and Risa Hontiveros during election campaign time?).
“It happens not just in the Philippines but all over the world,” she said during a recent informal Q&A at Luisa’s Café on March 7. “When they can’t find anything else they can use against us, they attack our private lives. Do they do that to male politicians? No.” Or at least, not so much.
She stressed that while there have been advancements—more women now hold positions in the executive, legislative, and judicial branches of the government—discrimination and gender-based violence remain widespread.
De Lima called for the stronger enforcement of gender and development (GAD) programs, ensuring they go beyond mere slogans and tarpaulins and are used to fund meaningful projects, especially for women’s economic empowerment.
Why she chose to run again under a party list
Despite everything, de Lima had no plans to return to politics after her release. She was set to resume her private law practice and return to teaching.
But after a lot of convincing by fellow party mates and like-minded politicians, and consulting with family and friends, she decided to run under the Mamamayang Liberal (ML) party-list, a multisectoral group under the Liberal Party founded by the late Chito Gascon. For her, representing marginalized sectors in Congress feels like a more fulfilling path than returning to the Senate.
“It doesn’t matter whether you’re in the House or the Senate—it’s about how you perform and how you push for your advocacies,” she explained. “And honestly, these days, it seems like the House is doing a better job than the Senate.”
De Lima’s legacy of resilience
Former Senator Leila De Lima’s story is one of endurance, courage, and a refusal to be broken by oppression. For women in politics and all those fighting for justice, she is a living proof of the power of standing one’s ground—even when the odds seem insurmountable.
As the country moves forward, her fight, the people’s fight, is far from over.
And if her past has proven anything, it’s that she won’t back down—not now, not ever.
