To the tender rebels of our time
In this country, apathy is rewarded. The less you complain, the more “mature” you are. The quieter you stay, the...
Staying alive in Mindanao
It’s easy to call-out corruption when you’re only naming the big politicians and national agencies. Everyone else is doing the...
Sandbags are not enough
The night the river rose, the emergency room became a waiting room for the country’s failures. Children arrived shivering, their...
Quiet wounds from a taboo choice
At 19, my sister was supposed to be discovering life, not mourning the one she never got to bring into...
The cycle I can’t break
I died hoping for a brighter, more peaceful life. The moment I graduated, I truly believed I’d finally be free,...
The quiet accusation
They don’t have to say it out loud. I’ve learned to recognize the silence. Every time a professor mentions “ISIS,”...
The wind might’ve knocked my Jenga
A trickle of sweat raced down my hairline to join the one pooling above my upper lip. Inhale. Exhale. Zeroing...
Every vote counts
Never again will I fail my country like this. I often pinpoint 2022 as the year I began to care...
Rejected cents and sentiments
I thought it was just a usual night walking back home from a tiring day at school. While climbing up...
My curious self
They say curiosity killed the cat. But they forget the second half of that saying—“satisfaction brought it back.” I was...
