“Okay lang, Sir.” I have heard that answer so many times that I have learned not to believe it too quickly. Sometimes, of course, okay lang really means okay. But sometimes it means, “I am tired.” Or “Ang dami lang, Sir.” Or “I do not know how to explain it.” Sometimes
October 16, 2026
There is a strange moment in some pautang conversations when you realize that “Pwede makahulam?” or “Pautang naman” was not entirely a question. You say, as politely as you can, “Sorry, hindi ako makakapagpautang.” Then comes another question: “Bakit?” Suddenly, ikaw pa ang kailangang magpaliwanag. May paggagamitan ka ba? Wala ka
October 15, 2026
There is a quiet kind of regret that visits after every election. It does not shout. It does not trend. It lingers—in jeepney rides where drivers talk politics between fares, in faculty lounges where teachers shake their heads, in family dinners where someone says, “Sayang.” It is the regret of realizing
October 14, 2026
I first met Teresa Magbanua the way many of us meet our heroes now: late, indirectly, and with a small pinch of shame for the delay. Not because her life lacked drama, but because our days are crowded with louder names and faster stories. Still, her name lingers. I grew up
October 13, 2026
For the past ten months, turon somehow became part of my life at ISUFST Dumangas Campus. There were biscuits, Coke, coffee, candies, too, and, of course, plenty of chikahan. Nothing fancy. We simply tried to find time in between classes, meetings, deadlines, and whatever else was happening that day to sit
October 12, 2026
Finding a name for something you’ve felt forever brings such a sense of relief. The moment you say, “Ah, that is Murphy’s Law,” after your Wi-Fi collapses during a Zoom presentation, it stops being just bad luck. It becomes part of a pattern. And perhaps that is why these so-called “laws”—Murphy’s,
October 11, 2026
I was already involved in politics before I understood that I was. I was reminded of that recently when I came across a social media post with a simple line: “Teaching is political.” I paused at it for a while. Not because the idea was new to me, but because it
October 10, 2026
There was a time when I thought being quiet was enough. Sit still, do your work, do not cause trouble. In many classrooms, that kind of student is even praised. The one who behaves, who listens, who does not speak unless called. It sounds like a safe way to grow. But
October 9, 2026
We have been living with political dynasties for so long that we have learned to joke about them. Father is mayor. Mother is in Congress. The son is vice mayor. A daughter or cousin is waiting for the next opening. When somebody reaches the term limit, another relative steps forward, almost
October 8, 2026
I missed the first Zoom session of my new Global Citizenship Education (GCED) course, and I felt bad about it. I had an unavoidable conflict that day. I had done the readings and followed the online discussions, but I knew I had missed something. So when I finally got the recording
October 7, 2026
Last Friday night, after one of those weeks when the calendar seemed to have developed a personal grudge against me, I went to the movies with my daughter. I was tired enough to consider sleep a perfectly respectable Friday-night activity. Instead, we watched Forgotten Island. Somewhere between the manananggal, the were-aspin,
October 6, 2026
I thought I knew Iloilo. I know which roads I would rather avoid at five in the afternoon. I have watched Pavia grow from somewhere we passed through into somewhere people actually go to eat, shop, work, study, and live. I know that a trip to the airport now feels very
October 5, 2026