Komposo Kinanta sang Hubon Manunulat
The light drizzle that fell on the evening of May 2 felt almost like a blessing, soft and unassuming, yet meaningful in its own way. Despite the faint rain, the Komposo Kinanta event, mounted by the Hubon Manunulat in partnership with the National Commission for Culture and the Arts, pushed

By Noel Galon de Leon
By Noel Galon de Leon
The light drizzle that fell on the evening of May 2 felt almost like a blessing, soft and unassuming, yet meaningful in its own way. Despite the faint rain, the Komposo Kinanta event, mounted by the Hubon Manunulat in partnership with the National Commission for Culture and the Arts, pushed through with warmth and sincerity. Held at the Taohay NCCA Cultural Center and Regional Hub in Iloilo City, the gathering became more than a simple program. It turned into a heartfelt reminder that our traditions continue to live as long as people are willing to gather, listen, and share.
What stayed with me most was the coming together of people from different places and different generations. Composers and performers arrived from Oton, Dao, Calinog, Tobias Fornier, San Joaquin, Jordan, and Bago City. Each one carried not just a song but a piece of their community. Listening to them felt like traveling across Western Visayas without leaving my seat. Their voices, accents, and stories reflected how rich and alive our regional culture still is.
The program opened with a message from Dulce Maria V. Deriada, president of Hubon Manunulat and this year’s Komposo coordinator. Her words were simple but carried weight. She reminded us that the komposo tradition is still being practiced in distant areas, even if many of us are no longer familiar with it. Hearing this made me realize how easy it is to lose connection with our own heritage. Her call was clear: if we do not support and appreciate these traditions now, we risk losing them completely in the future.
Another meaningful message came from Elvert Bañares, director of Taohay. By offering the venue freely, he showed real support for the arts, not just in words but in action. He spoke about the need for spaces where artists can express themselves and connect with people. This is why the performances were held outside the historic Old Jaro Municipal Hall, making the event open and accessible to everyone who passed by.
The building itself carries history. Designed by Juan Arellano, it was built in the 1930s when Jaro was still a separate town. Today, it stands not just as a restored structure but as a living space for culture. Holding the Komposo event there gave a strong sense of connection between past and present. It felt like history was listening along with us.
The Komposo Festival is an annual activity led by Hubon Manunulat, UP Visayas, and the NCCA. This year’s edition felt different in a good way. Instead of focusing on competition, it gave space to past winning compositions. This allowed the audience to truly listen and appreciate the songs, not as entries to be judged but as works to be felt and understood.
To better understand the importance of the event, it helps to look at what komposo really is.
According to Alice Tan Gonzales, it is a form of Hiligaynon ballad, a narrative song with repeating melody, often accompanied by simple instruments. Before modern media, these songs served as a way to share stories and news. People memorized them and passed them on, making them part of everyday life.
As time passed, the komposo changed along with society. Some songs began to comment on social issues, while others reflected cultural changes or even political ideas. This shows how flexible the form is. It is not just about singing. It is also about expressing thoughts, reactions, and opinions about the world.
The structure of the komposo may seem strict, with its four-line stanzas and syllable patterns, but this discipline is part of its beauty. It allows the song to flow naturally and makes it easier to remember. The repeating melody also creates a sense of familiarity, drawing listeners in and keeping them engaged.
What I find most powerful about the komposo is how it speaks directly to the listener. The performers do not feel distant. They address the audience as if they are part of the story. This creates a connection that feels personal and immediate. You are not just listening. You are included.
The festival also forms part of the celebration of National Literature Month. Even if it extended into May, the message remained clear: literature has no fixed time. It lives whenever people choose to share stories and listen to them.
This year’s theme, “Bekët Panitikan: Para sa Katwiran at Kalikasan,” adds meaning to the event. “Bekët,” meaning unity, reminds us that literature can bring people together. It encourages us to think about reason and care for the environment, showing that even traditional forms like the komposo can speak to modern concerns.
Meeting the composers and performers made the experience even more meaningful. Names like Vazel Hanz Batilaran, Vic Batilaran Jr., Rey Ann Mayuga, Rolinda Gilbaliga, Maria Eileen Lourdes Asejo Francisco, and many others stood out not just for their talent but for their dedication. You can see that they are doing this not for recognition alone but out of love for the tradition.
What touched me most was the audience. It was not limited to invited guests. People passing by stopped to listen. Tricycle drivers paused. Vendors looked up from their stalls. Some stayed, some moved on, but for a moment, they were part of something meaningful. That is the kind of impact that cannot be measured easily.
Still, I cannot help but wonder how we can keep this kind of effort going. Support from institutions is important, but it should not stop there. More people need to be aware, involved, and willing to listen. Without that, events like this may remain occasional rather than continuous.
There is also the challenge of the modern world.
With so many distractions and fast-changing trends, traditions like the komposo can easily be overlooked. But maybe the answer is not to compete with modern forms, but to find ways to coexist and adapt while staying true to its essence.
Looking back, the Komposo Festival felt both reflective and hopeful. It reminded me of where we came from while showing that the tradition still has a place today. It is not something frozen in time but something that continues to grow.
The success of the event was not about perfection. It was about connection. It was about people coming together, sharing stories, and remembering who they are.
The light rain that evening now feels even more meaningful to me. It did not stop the event. Instead, it became part of the memory, something small but unforgettable.
Mabuhay ang panitikang Hiligaynon. Mabuhay ang Komposo Festival!
____
Noel Galon de Leon is a writer and professor at the University of the Philippines Visayas, where he teaches in the Division of Professional Education and at UP High School in Iloilo. He is also the Secretary of the National Commission for Culture and the Arts-National Committee on Literary Arts.
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