Somewhere between the wet market and the comment section, the word “Makapili” crawls back into Philippine conversation like an old fever. People use it too easily sometimes, the way we toss “traydor” in a barkada argument. Still, the return of the label signals something real: the quiet dread that betrayal is
February 3, 2026
Childhood teaches an early lesson about responsibility: when you break something, you fix it; you do not ask to be thanked for the attempt. You just fix it, say sorry, and do better next time. So when a celebrity spouse recently suggested—on record—that the public “does not deserve” her husband, an
February 2, 2026
Some policies do not collapse because the goal was wrong. They collapse because the execution went sideways and everyone quietly learned to live with it. “No Child Left Behind” is starting to feel that way. It sounds gentle, almost untouchable, until you look at the classroom reality: teens who can quote
February 1, 2026
Some issues only feel “national” when they reach the dinner table. The West Philippine Sea (WPS) is one of them. You can ignore it until galunggong or tuna gets pricier, a fisherman comes home early because the sea feels “crowded,” or students repeat a viral clip claiming we are “just visitors”
January 30, 2026
Many teachers know this moment well. A senior high student stares at a distance–time word problem, not because the math is hard, but because the sentence itself will not open. The numbers are simple. The formula is on the board. Still, the student freezes, quietly hoping someone else answers so the
January 29, 2026
Some mornings at the ISUFST Main Campus–Tiwi Site arrive already heavy. The sun is sharp by mid-morning, deadlines hover like unspoken reminders, and faces move quickly, eyes fixed on somewhere else. Then, just before lunch, a familiar shape appears near the Guidance and Testing Office. Wolfy pads in quietly, tail moving
January 28, 2026
If you ever want to understand Dinagyang or Kasadyahan beyond the spectacle, do not look at the grandstand first. Look at the eyes. It is the eyes before the first beat that stay with you—not the paint or the costumes. There is excitement there, but also tiredness held together by discipline.
January 27, 2026
Somewhere between the drumbeat of Dinagyang and the Monday-morning rush of regular life, we have developed a quiet survival skill: reading the government’s mood. You plan around announcements the way you plan around weather. You check if the policy is “final-final” or “final for now.” You tell a friend who runs
January 26, 2026
I was asked by my Jesuit mentor Fr. Manny Uy Jr. to help gather one or two inspiring stories from Iloilo that might be useful for a homily at Santa Maria Parish. It sounded like a modest request, the kind you squeeze between meetings. But once you start paying attention, the
January 25, 2026
Dinagyang has always been the kind of festival you can feel before you see. Still, let us be honest: for many Ilonggos, seeing is part of feeling. Banderitas are not just decoration; they are the city’s early “good morning,” the first visual cue that tells commuters, teachers, vendors, and students, “Dinagyang
January 24, 2026
I have always loved how Dinagyang can make even the most serious Ilonggo smile like a child. The drumbeat enters the chest first before it reaches the ears, and suddenly everyone is walking faster, speaking louder, and looking up. Yet Dinagyang can also humble you. You think you have a plan,
January 23, 2026
