When an Ilonggo starts adding po

By Sensei M. Adorador

During Buwan ng Wika, it is common to hear people speak in Tagalog as though it were synonymous with Filipino. This is a widespread misconception. In reality, Filipino is the national language, drawing from various languages spoken in the Philippines—it is not exclusively Tagalog. The confusion may stem from the way the Filipino subject is taught in schools, often presenting Filipino and Tagalog as interchangeable.

This perception may help explain why some Ilonggos have developed the habit of adding po in conversations, particularly in text messages, as a sign of courtesy and respect. In Tagalog, po is an enclitic politeness marker that softens a statement and signals deference, as in: Ano po ang kailangan nila? Saan po sila pupunta? Wala pa po sila, Mama at Papa, eh. But how does this po translate into Hiligaynon?

Hiligaynon is the primary language spoken by Ilonggos, though in casual conversation people often call it simply “Ilonggo.” Similarly, Tagalog speakers sometimes say ilonggohin mo to mean “translate it into Hiligaynon.” Strictly speaking, however, “Ilonggo” refers to a person from Iloilo—just as people from Negros Occidental are called Negrenses. In local naming conventions, the suffix “-non” is often added to indicate residents of a particular place: a person from Janiuay is a Janiuaynon; from Calinog, a Calinognon; from Cabatuan, a Cabatuanon. The same pattern applies in Negros Occidental: Silaynon for Silay City, Talisaynon for Talisay City, and Murcianon for Murcia. These terms are more than mere labels—they are cultural markers that link people to their place of origin and collective identity.

In traditional Ilonggo sentence structure, po has no role. Yet I notice that many members of Gen Z—and even some of my colleagues—now insert po into their digital communication, especially on social media. This practice often aims to avoid sounding imposing or brusque. According to Brown and Levinson’s (1987) Politeness Theory, this reflects negative politeness strategies—ways of minimizing imposition and softening potential threats to the hearer’s “face” (self-image). In digital contexts, po becomes a courtesy marker that functions as a face-saving device, signaling respect and consideration even in brief, text-based exchanges.

I recall an incident in Manila when someone asked me why I did not use po or opo while speaking. When I explained that in Hiligaynon, respect is conveyed through tone rather than explicit markers, the person grew upset, insisting that in Manila one should speak “proper” Tagalog and “know your place.” In such contexts, po and opo act as emotional blankets—linguistic devices that create comfort, reduce the risk of misinterpretation, and reinforce power hierarchies. From a sociolinguistic standpoint, this illustrates linguistic accommodation (Giles, 1973), where speakers adjust their speech to match that of their interlocutors, often for social acceptance or to reduce friction.

This difference in politeness strategies intersects with generational divides in communication. The digital era has widened these gaps: younger generations often use shortened words, code-switch between English and Tagalog, and incorporate internet slang. For example, a friend of mine was once scolded by his father for typing “lol” in a text, as the father mistook it for ulol (“crazy”) instead of “laugh out loud.” Similarly, frequent emoji use can confuse older speakers unfamiliar with their symbolic meanings.

From a sociological perspective, symbols—whether traffic lights or emojis—derive meaning from shared cultural conventions. Emojis convey emotional states or social cues; in Tagalog, po indexes sincerity, courtesy, and respect toward authority. Linguistically, however, Ilonggo politeness depends less on explicit lexical markers and more on tone, which is often described as warm and affectionate. This distinctiveness is so strong that even when Ilonggos speak Tagalog, their intonation sets them apart from Cebuanos, Ilocanos, or Warays. As some humorously note, even an Ilonggo threat can sound caring: Sasaksakin na kita pag hindi ka tumigil, or the oft-quoted example of an Ilonggo robber in Manila saying, Hold-up ‘to, paki-bigay ang gamit niyo para di kayo masaktan—like an angel speaking with a devil’s intent.

The contemporary use of po among Ilonggos raises broader questions about authenticity and language identity. While adopting features from other languages can be an adaptive strategy (a form of convergence), Joshua Fishman’s Language Shift framework warns that such practices—if habitual—can lead to the gradual erosion of heritage languages. Personally, I find the use of po in our group chat announcements inauthentic—it feels imposed rather than organic. If we wish to value our mother tongue and preserve our linguistic identity, we must model its consistent use in both speech and writing.

Perhaps one reason Mother Tongue-Based Multilingual Education (MTB-MLE) has struggled in implementation is that deeper, foundational issues remain unaddressed. Heritage languages cannot survive if their own speakers do not actively practice them. The tendency to imitate Tagalog intonation or adopt po merely for the sake of sounding courteous reflects a form of linguistic insecurity, where speakers undervalue their own language in favor of the socially dominant one. Instead of masking our identity, we can express respect and courtesy in ways that remain authentic to the unique rhythms, tones, and cultural values embedded in Hiligaynon.

Sensei M. Adorador is a faculty member at the College of Education, Carlos Hilado Memorial State University in the Philippines. He is currently pursuing a PhD in Psychology, specializing in Social Psychology, at the University of the Philippines Diliman.