Boni and the Black Bird

In this story, which I heard from a source, the belief that an aswang won't harm its neighbors seems to be put into question.

Boni was a short, handsome man who lived on a street famous for its streetwalkers. His Spanish ancestors lent him his light brown eyes and fair skin which turned pink under the sun. He was always smiling and quite pleasant as a neighbor. If not for his reputation as an aswang, Boni would have been well-liked. In a street known for its prostitutes, drunkards, hippies and brawlers, Boni was a saint. If only he didn't have that pet bird…


The street where Boni lived in a hut he shared with his family had been restless for the past few nights. At dusk, a dark bird would fly around the neighborhood, swoop down on rooftops and scratch at the tin coverings. It made a huge racket on the house of Celia, whose youngest child had a fever and it hovered over the roof of Tinio's hut, whose wife was pregnant.

This went on for several nights. What the neighbors didn't know – and wanted to know – was, what kind of bird was this? It had a dark-colored body, was larger than a pigeon and somehow resembled a rooster. They also needed to know where the bird came from because it seemed to just appear out of nowhere, as soon as the sky became dark. Before daybreak, it would disappear to where it came from – nowhere.

And then came the night when the bird made its last tour. Nothing bad had really happened, except that people came home earlier, to the relief of housewives and the consternation of the streetwalkers. The bird was especially noisy that night, calling out, flapping its wings and scratching at the rooftops.

As annoyance overcame fear, the residents simply began to harass the bird. They beat their ceilings and walls with sticks each time they heard the bird coming near, yelled out insults and threats and began to sharpen their machetes. The bird made a few more attempts to claw at the rooftops but since dawn was nearly breaking, it gave up and flew away.

Where it came to nest, according to eyewitnesses, came as no surprise. Boni's hut had an open area, common to many Filipino nipa huts. The wall where the kitchen sink was located was built halfway, just enough to allow a person to look out unhampered. One eyewitness recounted that the bird, panicked and angered, began to land on the roof near the kitchen area. But then a hand reached out and grabbed one of the bird's legs and very softly, they heard Boni's soothing voice, saying, "That's enough. Enough already. You're home."