On the morning of November 19, 2024, as the sun began to rise over Cebu City, a maritime guard on his usual patrol along the seawall made a discovery that would chill the entire community. There, washed against the massive structure built to protect the city from the sea, was the body of a young woman. She was dressed in black, and when authorities arrived, they were immediately faced with a frustrating and tragic mystery. There were no obvious signs of a struggle, no gunshot wounds, no clear indications of what had led to her untimely demise. In the absence of evidence, dark theories began to swirl: perhaps she had taken her own life.

This theory, however, was immediately and fiercely rejected by those who knew her. Just 24 hours later, a family, wracked with a creeping, agonizing dread, arrived at the city morgue. They had been unable to reach their 22-year-old daughter, Nika Denise Lagria, and the description of the girl from the seawall matched. A cousin, steeling herself for the unthinkable, was the first to identify the body. The wails of grief that followed confirmed the family’s worst fears. But their grief was mixed with a fiery determination. Nika, they insisted, would never have done this to herself. She was a fighter, a beloved daughter, a beacon of hope for their family. They were right. The truth, as the medical examiner would soon confirm, was far more sinister.

The autopsy report was a turning point. It silenced the painful rumors of self-harm and confirmed the family’s intuition: Nika Denise Lagria was the victim of a heinous crime. The cause of her perishing was strangulation. With this confirmation, the case became a desperate hunt for a predator. The problem was, police had no leads. The seawall had washed away any potential forensic evidence, and Nika’s cellphone, a key piece of her life, was missing. Investigators were back at square one, with only the family’s timeline to guide them.

That timeline was a portrait of a loving, hardworking family. Nika was the youngest of four siblings and a dedicated cashier at a restaurant in Mandaue City. She was, by all accounts, a bright, happy young woman who loved fashion and her family, and who worked tirelessly to help her parents. Her father recounted his final moments with his daughter, a memory that would forever haunt him. At 3:00 AM on the dot, he had driven her on his motorcycle to a nearby corner where she could catch a multicab or jeepney for her early shift. She had a meeting at 5:00 AM. His last words to her were “mag-ingat,”—”take care.” He then drove away, assuming, as any parent would, that she was safe.

That 3:00 AM drop-off became the single focus of the investigation. Police, desperate for a break, scoured the area for security footage. They found it. A clear CCTV camera had captured the moment, just minutes after her father left, when Nika flagged down and boarded a public multicab. The footage was so clear that investigators were able to get a full license plate number. This was the breakthrough they had been praying for.

The vehicle was traced to a man named Jason Kulamat. When police located him, they discovered he was in possession of illegal substances and arrested him. But Kulamat had an iron-clad alibi. He insisted he hadn’t been driving the vehicle on the day of the incident. He had, he claimed, rented the multicab to his uncle. He gave the police his uncle’s name and address: Godofredo Brufal.

When police descended on Brufal’s home in San Remigio, the suspect tried to flee. He fought back against the officers, but was quickly subdued. As he was being apprehended, other investigators searching his home found the two items that sealed his fate: Nika’s missing shoes, and her missing cellphone. A forensic sweep of the multicab later revealed traces of blood on the driver’s seat. They had their man. Brufal’s history only made the case darker; he had a prior record, including cases related to drugs and, chillingly, for inappropriate physical contact.

With the evidence stacked against him, Godofredo Brufal confessed. His story, delivered to investigators, detailed a horrifying and opportunistic attack. He admitted that he was driving when he picked Nika up. She sat in the front passenger seat. He noticed she was sleepy, which was understandable at 3:00 AM. He waited patiently as, one by one, his other passengers got off at their stops. Finally, he was alone with the sleeping 22-year-old. He parked the vehicle and, in that dark, quiet moment, he lunged at her, committing a grievous, unspeakable act.

But Nika woke up. As she became aware of the horror of what was happening—that the driver had his tongue in her mouth—her body reacted with pure, desperate defiance. She fought back. With the last of her strength, she bit down on her attacker’s tongue with all the force she could muster. She bit down so hard that she severed it.

This was Nika’s final act. It was a moment of incredible, agonizing bravery. She could not overpower him, but she could mark him. She could, and she did, leave an undeniable, gruesome, and permanent piece of evidence on her assailant.

The act sent Brufal into a rage. In pain and furious at his victim’s defiance, he overpowered her and strangled her, ending her life. His confession then detailed the cold, calculated cover-up. He drove her body to the Cebu City Seawall and disposed of it, hoping the sea would wash his crime away. But he had a new problem: his own horrific, self-inflicted injury. He drove to a district hospital, clutching his bleeding mouth, and told the nurses a pathetic lie: he claimed he had been the victim of a robbery.

This was his undoing. The injury he tried to pass off as a sign of his own victimhood was, in fact, the mark of his guilt. It was the brand Nika had given him. It was her final testimony, a piece of forensic evidence he could not wash away, burn, or throw into the sea. When police paraded the suspect, his face bruised from his capture, he faced the victim’s family. He begged for their forgiveness, claiming he never “intended” for it to happen.

The family’s grief was immeasurable, but it was now mixed with a profound, heartbreaking pride. Their daughter, their sister, their beloved Nika, was a fighter to the very end. She had not gone quietly. In her final, desperate moments, she had delivered the very clue that would lead investigators directly to the man who had wronged her. She had, in effect, solved her own case.