Not-So-Blind Faith: How Much Longer Can We Hold Out Hope?

By Eliza Consuelo Bellones

When you grow up in the Philippines, you learn early on that faith in the government is optional—even irrational. You hear everyone around you say that it doesn’t matter who’s in office; nothing changes either way. You see headlines about corrupt officials walking free. You memorize the names on the ballots like family trees. And slowly, you begin to understand: the system isn’t broken. It is working exactly as it was designed to—just not for us.

This is not about politics. It’s about trust—more specifically, the lack of it. For many young Filipinos today, the government is no longer a symbol of public service. It is a reminder of unfulfilled promises. We did not become cynical overnight; our distrust grew steady and slow as injustice unfolded before our eyes. How can you believe in a system that continuously betrays you?

We watch as public funds vanish while hospital patients cry for beds. We see rain leak from classroom roofs and teachers buying chalk out of their own pockets. We witness justice bend for the powerful and break for the poor. We grew up in a country where politics is performance, and performative leadership wins but rarely delivers.

We are the generation that is always watching. We scroll with eyes wide open. The propaganda, the paid trolls, the red-tagging, the erasures of truth—we see it all. We know when we are being lied to, and we’re tired of pretending we believe.

This paradox arises: we’ve lost faith in the government, and yet, we still dream of a better country. Where do we go from here?

We start by telling the truth: that faith lost isn’t easily restored. Rebuilding trust is not about performative reforms but accountability, transparency and humility. It’s not miracles that we need—it’s sincerity, and it is our right to demand it.

And when this isn’t enough, we show up where the government fails us. We fill the gaps with youth-led drives, grassroots organizing, alternative education, mutual aid and the millions of other ways we can make a difference. We lead even when we are not in power. We act because there’s something else we believe in: each other.

Maybe one day, this will be enough to rebuild the bridge between the people and the government meant to serve them. Until then, we hold the line. Losing faith in the government doesn’t mean we’ve lost faith in change. It just means we’ve decided we’re the ones who make it.

Eliza Consuelo Bellones is a high school student passionate about civic engagement and creative storytelling. A former youth mayor of Iloilo City, she explores social issues through the eyes of a generation demanding change.