Manuel S. Enverga University Foundation officially established eight new partnerships with different industries and academic institutions through an official Memorandum of Agreement (MOA) Signing Ceremony in the Dr. Tobias Y. Enverga Alumni Center, Feb. 7.

“Enverga University is fortunate to have the four industries and four academic institutions to engage in a mutually beneficial partnership when each of us will take an influence in each other while working together to achieve shared success,” as Celso D. Jaballa remarked.

The four industry partners include Carlos SuperDrug, Tsukiden Electronics Philippines Incorporation, Department of Labor and Employment, and Department of Interior and Local Government.

Madam Naila E. Leveriza was even impressed of the partnership with Maria Corazon Martinita C. Masangcay, a Human Resource Manager of Carlos SuperDrug and recalled Diomedes R. Carlos who was a member of the First Board of Trustees in the Luzonian College in 1948.

“Andito po kami to support the student and we will do that in the Alagang Carlos Way,” Macasangay answered after confirming that she acknowledges Diomedez R. Carlos.

Furthermore, Luzvimida Arcenas, Head of Tsukiden, shared their industry’s activities like the Brigada Eskwela wherein they distributed school supplies that are essential and offered opportunities such as internship, on the job training, allowance worth 250 per day and possibility of a scholarship program for engineering students who are graduating.

On the other hand, DOLE offers scholarships, Labor Education for Graduating Students (LEGS), Career Coaching, Special Program for Employment of Students (SPES), Government Internship Program (GIP) which offers job employment in government agencies and even community extension for livelihood.

PD Edwin Hernandez added that there are a lot of businesses in Quezon that can encourage applicants and caught news of a company looking for land to manufacture steel for the entire Asia.

“Ni-recommend ko ay sa Quezon kasi wala ng lupa sa Batangas,” Edwin Hernandez relayed the message he got from Governor Hernaez of PESO Batangas.

If ever the company were to be built in Quezon, this would minimize the number of graduate students relocating to work in other countries or towns.

Regardless of the challenge brought by the course of time and functionality, Noel R. Bartolobac, Asst. Regional Director of DILG, believes that partnership is the key toward course development and is aligned with their mandate to promote excellence in local governance.

As for the four academic institutions, MSEUF High School Batch 1992, Barra Elementary School, Quezon National High School, and Lucena City National High School Mayao Crossing commemorated their MOA signation on the second day of the Foundation Week.

Gloria Bobadilla advocated Badjao rights for education at Barra National High School and hoped to form a Badjao Band to hone their skills in producing music.

“Dahil ang nais po natin ay mabago ang pagkakilala natin sa mga Badjao,” Bobadilla reasoned.

Meanwhile, Jessie Vasquez showed his gratitude towards MSEUF and College of Computing and Multimedia Studies for the provision of educational programs [Cyber Eskwela], instruction, venue, instructional materials for formal course and computer training in high school and senior high school students.

“We are open for partnership in terms of OJT, practice teaching. By the way, we have 426 teaching and assisting personnels, and good market din for College of Education kasi ang graduating class sa amin ay 1022 this school year kaya maraming magiging professionals sa MSEUF,” Vasquez said.

Also, LCNHS expressed their gratitude towards MSEUF for giving them another year to become their partner.

“Pinaramdam po ng MSEUF ang kanilang pag agapay sa aming Sagip SARDO na programa, Student At Risk of Dropout, dun po kayo umaagapay sa amin ang amin pong programa o proyekto ay tinawag na AKAP, Ating Kaagapay ang Patnubay sa Pagkamit ng mga Pangarap at Karunungan ng mga Batang Mayawi,” LCNHS’ Representative said.

However, the best way to show gratitude is by paying it forward to the community of Enverga based on the speech of Edwin Garcia who is accompanied by officers of the MSEUF High School Batch 1992.

“We would like to turnover our donations of vitamins for the upcoming Medical Mission. Ito po ay simula pa lamang.

Ang aming pong dalangin is that we would be more blessed sa isang buong taon ng partnership community service,” she added.

MSEUF Concert Singers and Banyuhay Dancers performed at the event to entertain guests and showcase the University’s talents through a special number.

Among three proposed ideas in Haraya at Hakbang seminar workshop held in AEC Little Theatre on Dec 1, SB Sec. Ma. Luisa Ocampo approved a centralized agency in Lucena that will handle medical assistance requests where indigents and the general public are given utmost priority.

To widen the scope of the Yellow Card Program and ensure the goals are met, Hans Kasilag along with his groupmates, thought that it would be better to ensure that every resident gets proper, affordable, and high quality healthcare which is a fundamental right as per the Universal Health Care Act 11223.

Aligned with the theme of Haraya at Hakbang: Pagtuklas sa Esensya ng Masusing Paggawa ng Patakaran, two groups of students also presented their ideas solving child labor issues and improving economic growth status.

“Lahat ng napresent niyo ay pwedeng in a form of resolution…at Among the three, pareparehas na yang may Mother B or RA…pero pwede niyong iadopt yan as amendment,” SB Sec Ma. Luisa Ocampo commented.

Despite not being able to create an idea for an ordinance within a short span of time, Ocampo expressed a sense of gratitude for creating a resolution and appreciated the students’ enthusiasm to ignite their flame of imagination, Haraya.

Admittedly, Samantha Deomampo, 2nd year Political Science, recognized their mistake and promised to create a better ordinance that is purely driven by a commitment to the public good rather than personal benefits.

According to Mr. Jose Maria Niño Revadavia, it is great that students are actively participating in policy making. That it is important to have inclusivity to create better governance. Further encouraging students to engage in a systematic way rather than a misdirected one.

On the other hand, Hon. John Joseph G. Aquivido emphasized the essence of having dreams, faith, and prayers first as a policy maker. Any policy maker who doesn’t have a dream or vision to help Filipinos are blinded by their greed for wealth and other selfish gains. Furthermore, the policies created must be implemented appropriately to gain their benefit.

Initially, the seminar workshop was meant for students of Political Science and Public Administration. But Dr. Milagrosa A. Lawas and Mr. Neon Anthony Mila opened the seminar to all Envergan students because they believe that anyone has visions, they just need to gain the courage to take that first step in crafting policies.

Manuel S. Enverga University Foundation students Albert Rupinto, Alex Jarenz Tablante, Hannah Mae Lamadrid, Jared Vincent Pionilla, Ragem Angelyn Portes II, and Yzabelle Luna joined the local dance troupe Prjct Mnstr in securing the 8th spot in World of Dance Philippines with a total score of 89.33.

Among the six, Rupinto, a 3rd-year criminology student, drew the birthday-themed dance performance from the cultural tradition of giving gifts to birthday celebrants after many considerations with Jomari Catalla.

With the success of Prjct Mnstr, Lamadrid, Tablante, and Pionilla from the College of International and Hospitality Management, and Portes II from the College of Education testified their joy and struggles to achieve the feat with the whole dance team.

“Our journey was both enjoyable and challenging, considering that we had encountered problems like finding a place to practice, but we refused to let it get in our way because we were committed from the beginning. We had to put in a lot of time and effort, but for us, performing on the World of Dance PH stage was a real dream come true. It’s still unbelievable to me that we ranked 8th out of 49 participants. It was all a result of our coaches, who never stop guiding and inspiring us, and our members, who never stop supporting and encouraging one another,” Lamadrid expressed.

Aside from the five college students, Grade 12 Humanities and Social Sciences student Yzabelle Luna also took part in the group’s World of Dance PH win.

Meanwhile, dancers from various universities also contributed to the achievement including Azy Albanio, Aldrin Albaño, Red Albaño, Tianoo Albaño, Jomari Catalla, Jovan Dominique Catalla, John Jonil, Caster Leonil, Ralph Villanueva, Nathaniel Sanchez, Michael Eubanas, Jazkenth Merle, Albert Rupinto, Sue Noy, Francis Kenneth Mendones, Sheinah Sta. Cruz, and Edmar Payno Malinao.

Notably, the dance concept that the group performed also earned the grand championship title in the Paskong Quezonian 2023 and 1st runner-up in the Quezon Linggo ng Kabataan Pasiklaban 2023 Dance Competition.

World of Dance Philippines is part of the World of Dance franchise, the biggest dance competition in the world, which featured performers with unique dance styles held at the UP Diliman Theatre, Quezon City, on March 10.

To enhance the visual quality of publication materials in the College of Education, Erika D. Marca elaborated on the importance of layout principles to participants of the Council of English Enthusiast’s (CEE) Journalism Workshop 2024 at AEC 206, Mar. 1.

Marca is known for being the four-peat Editor in Chief of The Luzonian from 2019 to 2023. Her journalistic journey proved to the Envergan community that publication materials are tools that promote active engagement through comprehensive and attractive information dissemination.

In her discussion, the College of Education students learned the concept of page and content design by tackling visual elements such as hierarchy, white space, typography, consistency, color scheme, alignment, and contrast.

In addition, she provided tips on how to manage a publication page by utilizing Meta Business Suite effectively, along with proper social media strategy.

For her advice, she emphasized the essence of self-reflection, always being open to improvement and adapting as much as possible.

Meanwhile, CEE also organized a journalism workshop to improve the visual identity of The Mentors, the official student publication of the College of Education.

College of Arts and Sciences took the championship title from the College of International and Hospitality Management after the discussion of anti-government protest in the MSEUF 77th Founding Anniversary Celebration Debate Competition at the AEC Little Theatre, Feb. 14. 

Aside from the championship title, CAS debater Ellie Hachaso earned the Best Debater award after highlighting that protests are not limited to the Philippines but of an international value which can be considered as a form of feedback mechanism. This earned CAS the advantage points for the final round of the competition.

On the other hand, Atty. Rei Baligod, one of the judges, appreciated Hans Adriel Gabriel of CIHTM, who defended the opposition to the very end with full confidence despite being in a disadvantageous situation, awarding him as the Best Speaker.

While the second judge, Atty. Chelsea Eichel Dauz, shunned CIHTM with the existence of a peaceful rally in Davao, breaking the margin between the two departments’ definition of anti-government protests. 

Meanwhile, the College of Education debate team clinched third place against CIHTM 

In contrast to the previous year’s five teams, the 2024 Debate Competition featured seven teams from different departments that tackled a range of local and national issues. 

The topics included the question of whether Transnational Education should be supported (debated by the College of Engineering and the College of Business and Accountancy), whether hate speech against Asians is a valid form of freedom of expression in the Philippines (debated by the College of Nursing and Allied Health Sciences and the College of Arts and Sciences), and the potential nationwide discontinuation of SHS programs within SUCs and LUCs (debated by the College of Criminology and Criminal Justice and the College of International Hospitality and Tourism Management).

Also included were the abolition of the Southeast Asia Nuclear Weapons-free Zone (debated by the College of Education and the College of Criminology and Criminal Justice), and the cooperation of the Philippine Government administration in the ICC investigation on the alleged Crimes against humanity committed by the former administration (debated by the College of Arts and Sciences and the College of Business and Accountancy).

Disclaimer: The Luzonian’s random sampling survey does not reflect or will not affect the official results of the Miss Enverga University Best in Talent 2024.

Keith Anne Camata, College of International and Tourism Management candidate, caught the attention of students from Manuel S. Enverga University Foundation with her Barbie-themed standard and Latin dance show in the University Gymnasium, Feb. 8.

Based on The Luzonian’s survey, six out of ten respondents placed their bet on Camata as the concept, performance, and impact stood out from the rest of the candidates.

In an interview with Dr. Divinia Glifonea, dean of College of Education, stated that CIHTM will probably receive the Best in Talent award followed by SHS-BED and CED representatives.

In line with her wild guess, several students and faculty from opposing departments also shared the same idea that CIHTM is most likely to take the spot from the previous CED Kate Desaluna’s Taekwondo Talent showcase.

On the other hand, Rueil Viana Montserrat, SHS BED, gained the vote of four respondents as she attracted them with her contemporary ballet mixed with women empowerment advocacy.

With the magic show of November Akako Eclarin (IGSR), rendition of Rolling in the Deep by Adele of Zamantha Jimenez (CME), fusion of traditional and contemporary dance of Lycamae Penarejo (CCJC), educational quick change set up of Arianne Kristel Sapol (CED), singing of Una’t Huling Pag-Ibig by Yeng Constantino of Zhienah Mae Hernandez (CAFA), Myanmar cultural dance of Aira Sophia Apura (CNAHS), interactive dance performance by Freddie Aguilar’s ‘Anak’ of Radhakrishna Nicodemus (CEng), Latin-American dance combo of Maria Louise Cassandra Abella (CAS), and live canvas painting of Elmira Silva (CBA), the Ms. Enverga Talent competition left the audience amazed as all of them did the best they could.

“Lahat naman ng candidate ay magaling pero there can only be one [candidate with the Best in Talent award],” Ralph Janzen Monticalvo explained.

Meanwhile, Envergans shared their excitement as the unveiling of the official results of the Miss Enverga University Best in Talent approaches on Feb. 16, 5 pm.

Demonstrating journalistic excellence and commitment to truth, The Luzonian earned the Institutional Ambassador Award along with 12 individual accolades in the national seminar-workshop for the 25th Word Cup Philippines and Ninth Journalism Masterclass at Faith Village Gardens, Boracay, Malay, Aklan, Jun. 12-14.

Dexter Villamin, one of the technical advisers of the publication, took home the Bronze Ambassador Award, a recognition for his years of competence and dedication to dispensing his mastery in technical and creative writing.

"All the lessons and feedback that we received from numerous distinguished practitioners of the 25th Word Cup Philippines shall be internalized and will materialize in our collegiate publication," he expressed.

Meanwhile, the publication staffers excelled across multiple journalistic categories, proving their desire for learning and utmost proficiency.

In the English category, Managing Editor for Media Production Johann Sebastian Catalla 

triumphed with 1st Place in Photojournalism, Ace Vincent Gamitin followed with 2nd Place in the same category, Jase Gerald Arquiza placed 2nd in News Writing, Managing Editor for Visual Design Yestin Kim Roxas secured 3rd Place in Editorial Writing and Honorable Mention in News Writing, Christer Jeff Pabillar garnered 3rd Place in Science and Technology Writing, while both Pat Noah Balce and Prince Raily Laurel received Honorable Mentions in Sports Writing and Photojournalism, respectively.

In the Filipino Category, Sports Editor Matthew Oblea earned 1st Place in Pagsulat ng Balitang Isports, Managing Editor for Operations Jhon-Jhon Ortiz claimed 3rd Place in Pagsulat ng Lathalain, and Assistant Managing Editor for Visual Design Daniel Calusin won 3rd Place in Pagkuha ng Larawang Pampahayagan.

To cultivate excellence in campus journalism, Word Cup Associated Editors Co. organized the events to provide immersive, practitioner-led training, and national level competitions while highlighting authenticity in reportage.

Basketball team of Manuel S. Enverga University Foundation owned the court with five consecutive victories against various colleges in the Private School Athletics Association Quezon Chapter Meet 2023 at MSEUF Gymnasium on March 25.

Wildcats took advantage of the twice-to-beat system by securing wins in all their matches and maximizing its full potential against Calayan Educational Foundation Inc., Maryhill College, St. Anne College of Lucena Inc., STI College, and Interglobal College Foundation basketball teams.

According to the Sports Director of MSEUF, Darios Virrey, one of the possible reasons why Calayan Cougars claimed silver might have been due to the exhaustion of players before the championship match.

On March 25, only two matches occurred in the MSEUF Gymnasium; the match between Calayan and Maryhill College and the championship game. Although CEFI Cougars overcame the threat of MC Marian Crusaders with a clutch score of 69-68 in the do-or-die semifinal matchup, MSEUF Wildcats hindered Cougars with a 29-point difference in the showdown.

“Ilang buwan po namin pinagsikapan para makuha ang championship. Dahil ang goal namin sa lahat ng liga na linahukan namin ay itong PRISAA,” CJ Aurellano, MSEUF Wildcats’ point guard, expressed.

Wildcats widened the gaps in all quarters of the championship game and showed dominance in every move possible, 22-09, 46-24, 59-45, and 86-57.

“Umpisa pa lang ng try-out namin, kinausap ko na ang players na ang goal namin ay championship.

Even though mahirap kasi mga bago, nagkaroon naman kami ng maraming experience sa liga to put them all together and claim championship,” Coach Melki Villanueva shared.

Furthermore, MSEUF Wildcats gained the opportunity to compete in the regional-level PRISAA CALABARZON 2023. Though unofficial, the event will likely be in Cavite, Dasmariñas, and Batangas, May 26-29.

“Bilang team captain, mas lalo pa naming doblehin, kung maaari triplehin pa namin ang paghihirap namin kasi umpisa pa lamang ito.

Alam namin sa sarili namin na marami pa kaming makakalaban sa pagdating ng regionals,” JC Oabel, Wildcats’ captain, promised.

Draped in maroon, Maria Anna Klarissa F. Sardea walked across the Quezon Convention Center stage with her smile bright beneath the spotlight and only few knew the quiet strength beneath her robe—the memory of hospital nights, the battle with a life-altering condition now behind her, and the silent vow she made to reach this day.

Back in 2019, she was just a quiet force—shy, kind, and always clutching her notes like a lifeline. Her eyes sparkled not just with curiosity, but with the quiet fire of a girl determined to rewrite her story. Finishing senior high, finding the right college path, earning a decent job—these were not just dreams. They were blueprints etched in her mind, the steps she vowed to take to climb out of life’s tight corners and into her own light.

Yet, behind it all, there lingers a soul-crushing truth. A huge hurdle that hindered her plans. An existential thought that echoed vehemently in her colorless room.

“Is there still hope? Am I going to leave this world without figuring out what my dreams are?” she thought to herself during her surgery to remove a growing mass in her body.

At that moment, she felt like everything that she had planned in the future would crumble down into nothing just because of her unwanted life-threatening disease and because of that she stopped.

Life turned into an unexpected event. She became a dropout. A year of silence, slow recovery, and endless tears soaked her pillow in the middle of the night.

But with a small gesture between her fingers and continuous affirmative words, she rose to fight for her dreams once again.

Reflecting on her journey, she came to understand that life was never meant to be a race. Each person walks a distinct path, with stops and destinations shaped by their own hopes, choices, and priorities. Though lives may intersect, the endings are as unique as the individuals who live them.

Coming to terms with this truth had not been easy. Accustomed to plans unraveling beyond her control, she struggled with letting go. Yet amid the uncertainty, her ever-loving family remained her constant—guiding her through life’s twists and holding her hand during the darkest chapters. It was their unwavering presence that helped her reclaim her strength. In that quiet moment of clarity, she knew her life held meaning because of them. And with that, she stepped forward, ready to chase fulfillment at her own pace.

It might not be the same as it used to be. She might not be the most influential student in the university. But with the best of her abilities, she navigated her way back, performed well in academics, and actively participated in seminars, workshops, and organizational work as a member of Psychological Society.

“It has become that little line that helped us overcome battles and save us from the darkness that no one knew about. To all my fellow graduates who endured and suffered silently, if no one ever told you this, I am so proud of you. I am proud of you for continuously trying despite losing the spark and enthusiasm you once had. And most importantly, I am proud of what you have become,” she affirmed the graduates of class 2025.

Aside from her strong independent nature, she also expressed her gratitude for the support that she had received from her parents, best friend, college friends, and alma mater.

Further emphasizing that the goal was never to feel superior and receive a Latin Honor but to gain genuine connections among her peers, the memories, the sleepless nights, the shoulders to lean on, and the mornings she chose to fight even if she had to drag herself out of bed.

Despite going through relapse and failing to see the significant improvements over time because of the expectation of others, she learned to surround herself with people who choose to keep their hearts no matter what and to remember that growth takes the form of what your being needs the most.

By 2025, she stood in the Quezon Convention Center wrapped in maroon and the promise of a future hard-won. Her cap crowned her story, her gown, a symbol of sleepless nights and silent perseverance. Graduating Summa Cum Laude with a Bachelor of Science in Psychology from Manuel S. Enverga University Foundation–Lucena, she stood not just as a scholar, but as a survivor.

The girl she was in 2019 had blossomed into a woman who carried grace, grit, and a fire no hardship could dim.

There are a lot of underrated degrees in college and one of which is Library and Information science. Despite being one of the students enrolled in an underappreciated degree, I learned to appreciate LIS after a year of studying it.

At first, I was hesitant to pursue a LIS degree because of several factors such as the number of students interested in pursuing it, the job opportunities that are offered after graduating, and the amount of money to acquire this degree.

By experience, it can be quite discouraging that most people do not recognize the field of work that I am passionately doing. Let alone, enroll in a degree like this or to make it worse, have a pool of oblivious friends in terms of the degree I chose. But when people do appreciate and acknowledge it, it somehow sparks joy.

One of the notable things that I like about the LIS curriculum is that it allows students to explore and navigate through information resources as quickly as possible. There was a time I managed to hit the right information. It was the time where a library client asked for poems and writing references and having found it quickly while using the classification table, she gave a warm “Thank you” with a smile. It was a simple process. But because of the librarians’ effort to arrange library materials for easy access, students won’t have to spend so much time looking for information.

Aside from the training to become an ultimate search engine, I also find enjoyment in creating resources like newspaper, brochures, biography, formal letters, standardization papers, policies, budget outlay, pathfinders, abstracts, instructional videos, bibliographies, and other formats. Knowing that the curriculum isn’t limited to reading different information resources, it somehow brings excitement when I think that I can publish a children’s book, newsletters, and other print or non print materials.

Although some may argue that the curriculum isn’t aligned with the advancement of technology, I beg to differ that it does offer enough basic knowledge in technological advancement. After a thorough examination of the curriculum, I found that programming, animation, application of databases and other aspects are included. Moreover, the integration of technology in libraries is evolving. It could even include media libraries, sound libraries, graphic and assets libraries, code libraries and more.

As a library and information science student looking forward to the advancement of libraries in the age of technology, I am eager to learn more and apply it in the field of librarianship. In fact, I admire the efforts of the National Library of the Philippines. Until now, NLP continues to transform books to e-resources, augmenting them through a mobile application, creation of a highly responsive library website, visually appealing promotional contents, clear, interactive and fun video lessons, and a wide access of information sources.

I see most of the great things to come in libraries and if others think otherwise, then it is best to let them think what they want because I strongly know that LIS is not the least desired profession nor should any profession be denigrated by the number of enrollees. Every profession needs to be acknowledged solely for their purpose, not their numbers.

“Hayaan mo na!”

This was the advice that Mary received from her friend after being left powerless and dumb founded by the fact that she worked on a challenging group project alone due to classmates’ negligence. She could have told her classmate to comply with their task promptly but the fear that it would damage their relationship hindered her.

Like Mary, most Filipinos experience a similar case leading to this kind of toxic conversation. As such, the thought of ‘talking back’ to deal with conflicts albeit for a greater cause or a destructive one is often prone to misconceptions.

So, for most of us, it would be culturally easier to keep it in the bottle and just say ‘Hayae na.’

A popular phrase to brush off a person’s problem and end the conversation quickly. A psychological sign that Filipinos’ feelings are poorly paid attention.

Thus, the rise of other phrases like “Tahimik na lang tayo,” “pakiramdam mo lang yan,” “walang basagan ng trip,” and more.

While there is nothing wrong with having a non-confrontational behavior, it can still be a major distress when it is mixed with passive-aggressiveness.

This is commonly seen in scenarios such as when your classmate talks behind you for committing a mistake, alludes on social media platforms, and gives you a silent treatment.

Rather than pointing fingers at the authority or perpetuator, perhaps we could shed some light on how to create cultural mechanisms to conflict resolutions. Create a society where problems are dealt with properly.

𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗣 𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬𝗢𝗡𝗘

You don’t have to act like a clown juggling with a lot of plates in a tightrope to entertain your audience. Conforming yourself to the standard of others will only lead to losing your own uniqueness.

You don’t need to balance everything for the sake of others, be kind to yourself and know what is good for you.

Perhaps growing up to please your strict parents is one of the factors to the ‘hayaan mo na’ culture. A trait that grew to face the Filipino community as an ideal personality under the term ‘pakikisama.’

Notably, Virgilio Enriquez defines ‘pakikisama’ as an adjustment of one’s individuality for the sake of some dubious social orientation. If we could stop putting high regards on the concept of ‘kapuwa,’ maybe then we could enjoy the benefit of having a smooth interpersonal relationship.

𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗔𝗚𝗘

The courage to speak up when someone is causing you trouble can be difficult. But when you think of it in a way that could help others improve their life, speaking up wouldn’t be as bad as you thought it was.

However, it is still ideal to consider taking the time to calm yourself and approach them at the right time. Some would say that letting things slide works. But when it gets too much, that is when you strike to avoid long suppressed grievances.

𝗩𝗔𝗟𝗨𝗘 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗘𝗙𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗧

Set an appropriate time and neutral place to meet. Solving an issue doesn’t have to utilize social media platforms.

A simple coffee shop or any comfortable environment (except your home or their territory) would work as long as it can promote healthy conversation with each other. For Envergans, places to consider can be the student lounge, library, canteen, and even nearby off campus stores.

Ideally, the conversation should be direct and precise. It doesn’t have to use any special method to lighten the problem at hand such as the sandwich method-a conversation method that follows the sequence of praise-critique-praise, as it could lead to confusion.

𝗖𝗢𝗢𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗘

For certain, Filipinos treasure the concept of ‘pakikipag-kapuwa’ and ‘respeto’ through their practice and teachings. However, as time progresses, we need to remove ourselves from the concept of juggling with plates in a tightrope to entertain people and to recognize the true concept of cooperation and concerted actions in resistance. No one deserves to feel alone after reaching the pinnacle of accomplishment.

Manuel S. Enverga University Foundation implemented the HyFlex Learning modality  anew in spite of Freshmen’s expectations of full face-to-face classes for the academic year 2023-2024.

The University carried out the HyFlex Learning Modality during the pandemic to address the needs of both faculties and students, but some students questioned its effectiveness now that COVID-19 virus is no longer prevalent.

"Bakit ba takot na takot pa rin ang Enverga sa COVID-19 kung wala namang datos na nagkaroon ng active cases sa Lucena?" Gemma said. (A pseudo-name upon request of hiding identity).

According to the Quezon Provincial Health Office as of July 22, 2023, the City of Lucena has no active COVID-19 cases, joining Pagbilao, Tayabas City, Atimonan, other on the list. 

Other students also gave their sentiments, amplifying that their adjustment for almost two years was already enough to transition for a full face-to-face setup.

"Full face to face na nga ang ilang universities at schools ta’s sa Enverga, extended pa rin? Hanggang kelan ba kami mag-aadjust? Akala ko ba nasa recovery phase na tayo? Hindi pa ba sapat ang dalawang taon?" Jemson said. (A pseudo-name upon request of hiding identity).

Meanwhile, other Envergans still approve of the reimplementation of the HyFlex Learning as it provides them more convenience.

"Okay naman ang HyFlex [Learning], nakukuha ko pa rin ang mga necessary skills at quality resources na kailangan ko. Kahit na nakaka-challenge ang mga activities, nama-manage ko pa rin naman ang time and parang nadi-disiplina ko na din sarili ko. Dagdag pa dito, mas nakakatipid ako ‘pag Hyflex Schedule," Hailey Kate Laqui shared.

Moreover, the CHED Memorandum Order No. 16 allowed the continuation of Hyflex Learning Modality to ensure the delivery of quality education in colleges and universities, which also increases the chance of safety among students and faculty and reduces risk of infection.

Patience isn't always the solution to every problem. When I was ten years old, my mother used to tell me to never judge a book by its cover. Little did she know that I was one of the mischievous children that she despised the most.

Although I meant no disrespect toward my mother, the discovery of an opposite pole with her is just astonishing. To me, judgement narrows down our options in life so as to make decisions faster and have a higher chance of success. As a student with tons of school work, extracurricular tasks, and personal agendas, every second in life matters. Spending the time to connect with a character and muster an effort to flip through every pages while standing in a bookstore for hours to read so as to determine whether a book is worth to buy after practically reading the whole thing would be a sociopath-like behavior.

In some stores, it is even illegal to read a book without buying it first which is why it would be logical to judge a book by its cover because it was made to be judged in the first place. It is practically its sole purpose - to attract readers to buy it.

Similarly, every cover or decisive path has a visual aspect to it and I distinguish it through their condition, reliability, and vibe.

When it comes down to decision making. I look at each path according to their condition. Weighing the pros and cons of a situation. One time,

I had to decide which group mate to choose for a group activity. The activity was designed to enhance learners' creativity through the use of recycled materials. Naturally, I'd choose to have a partner who has artistic skills. However, I was new to the class, all of my classmates were complete strangers. With only a few minutes to decide, judgement comes knocking through the door.

Faced with a great dilemma, considering the reliability of information is key to good judgement. This is similar to fact checking. You observe the conversation around you, check other classmates who have an eye for the artistic ones, browse through their social media, or other techniques.

Sometimes it is even best to just go with the vibe. You think he is cool, I think she is beautiful. My guts says "Alright, I choose you!" Life is too short to spend on overthinking what to choose. Whether it is a book, person, or a path, take the risk to explore new things. The fear of choosing the wrong one shouldn't stop you from going with what you think is right for your future.

So, judge a book by its cover.

Tapos na!

Sa wakas

Makakalaya na sa eskwela

Sa mga malalagkit na titig

Sa mga bibig na naglalaway

Sa mga ingay na nanghahalina

‘Di birong mula alas siyete ng umaga 

Hanggang alas otso ng gabi

Pilit kong ‘di pinapansin

Mga umaaligid na panganib

Ultimong pagtama ng hangin sa aking leeg

Paa’y unti-unting mamamanhid,

Munting pagdampi sa kaliwang siko

Balahibo’y titirik

Minsan pa’y hiniling kong mawala itong kutob

Kutob na unti-unting kinakain ng lupa

Kutob na baka bukas ay makasama na ang mga ninuno

Kutob na maiwan mag-isa sa gitna ng mga problema

Pero mukhang imposible nang mangyari yun

Kahit nga ligaya sa mga kaibigan

‘Di ko naranasan

‘Di man lang pinagbigyan

Mula bata, ni isa, wala

Panis na ang laway sa tagal

Pula na ang mata sa kaluluha

Sarado na ang isip sa pag-asa

Kaya kung masambot man ang munting layap

Sa isip ko’y sapat na

Tanggap na ang mga gawang awitin

Na kailanma’y hindi didingin

Kaya, ito ako…

Malas

Madaling apak-apakan

Basura kung ituring ng iba

Maliban sa isa

Ang kalachuchi sa gitna ng daan

Ang mukha ng mga litrato sa kwarto ko

Ang paksa ng aking mga kwento

Ang imahe sa bawat kantang dinig

Ang kamay na humila sa akin mula kadiliman—

Si Sir Amon

Tuwing kasama siya,

Kalooban ko’y nag-iinit

Puno’t dulo’y kamay niya sa ’king piling

Nagpapatigil sa mga paa na nanginginig

Mapang-akit na boses

Na nakadikit sa tenga

Umaakit na ilalakad ako sa kwarto

Nang maranasan kong hindi na maging solo

Oh, Ganito pala ang pakiramdam

Na may balikat na sasandalan

Makahanap ng tenggang may pinakikingan,

At matamo na laway ay ‘di na mapapanis

Kaya, Sir Amon

Oo, pumasok ka

‘Di na kailangan kumatok sa pinto

‘Pagkat noon pa man ay parte ka na

Parte ka na ng buhay kong hiram lang din sa kalachuchi

lkinagulat ng mga bagong estudyante ng Manuel S. Enverga University Foundation ang pagpapatuloy ng HyFlex learning modality sa pang-akademikong taon 2023-2024 sapagkat inakala ng madla na full face to face na.

Kinilala ang Hyflex Learning modality bilang pinaka epektibong pamamaraan ng pagtuturo sa panahon ng pandemya kung saan ito ay pinaghalong face to face at online learning. Gayunpaman, binigyan-diin ng ilan na hindi na ito epektibo sa panahon na hindi na laganap ang COVID-19 sa probinsiya nila.

"Bakit ba takot na takot pa rin ang Enverga sa COVID-19 kung wala namang datos na nagkaroon ng active cases sa Lucena?" wika ni Gemma (Nais ilihim ang tunay na pangalan)

Ayon sa Quezon Provincial Health Office, walang naitalang active cases ang Lucena makalipas ang July 22, 2023, 5:00 pm. Kabilang sa mga walang active cases ay ang bayan ng Pagbilao, Tayabas, Atimonan, at iba pa.

"Full face to face na nga ang ilang universities at schools tas sa enverga, extended pa rin? Hanggang kelan ba kami mag aadjust? Akala ko ba nasa recovery phase na tayo hindi pa ba sapat ang dalawang taon?" wika ni Jemson (Nais ilihim ang tunay na pangalan)

Alinsunod sa CHED Memorandum Order No. 16, maaaring ipagpatuloy ang HyFlex Learning Modality sa mga kolehiyo at unibersidad upang tumaas ang kaligtasan ng mga estudyante pati na rin mga teaching personnel at panatilihin ang mataas na kwalidad ng pag-aaral na kakailanganin sa kinabukasan.

"Okay na man ang HyFlex, nakukuha ko pa rin naman ang mga necessary skills at quality resources na kailangan ko.  Siguro ang maganda sa Hyflex ay natututo ako ng self-discipline at mas nakakatipid ako ng pamasahe during asynchronous classes." ibinahagi ni Hailey Kate Laqui.

Inanyayahan naman ng Office of Student Affairs and Services ang mga bagong estudyante na yakapin ang bagong kabanata ng buhay nila upang magpatuloy sa pag-aaral.

"Dati full online classes, sayang laboratory fees. Pero dahil sa Hyflex sched, naging posible mag face to face learning sa laboratories namin tas pag asynchronous yun ang time na gagawa naman kami ng mga written works kaya convenient din" wika ni Daniel Calusin.

To promote sports and academic competition in Manuel S. Enverga University Foundation, Vice President for Administration, Dario Rico H. Opistan,  promised to improve sports facilities during the Recognition of 2023 National Private Schools Athletic Association winners held in AEC Little Theater, August 2.

He emphasized that the administrative department, in charge of providing safe and sufficient physical resources, already began their ocular inspection and pre-assessment of the university gymnasium and swimming pool.

"Kapalit ng mga inspirasyon na ibinibigay ninyo sa amin, ibibigay naman namin ang tamang pasilidad sa inyo para mas ma-hone ang inyong mga kakayahan sa sports, culture at pageantry." dagdag ni Opistan.

Furthermore, Celso D. Jaballa, Vice President in External Relations, and Benilda N. Villenas, Vice President for Academics and Research, expressed their appreciation to the glory that the Envergans brought home from Zamboanga City.

"Your triumphs not only represent your individual success but also reflect the collective spirit of determination and hardwork that permeates throughout Enverga University. You have brought glory and exemplify the highest standard of sportsmanship and prowess. Your victories served as a testament to the outstanding education and training that Enverga provides to the students." Jaballa added.

Most Valuable Player, Carl Anthon Macahilas, broke through home court advantage of Envergan Wildcats and turned the field to his favor in every quarter during the 1st Chairman's Cup Inter-Branch Basketball League held in Lucena City, Feb. 17.

Both dominant and defensive, aspiring Macahilas exhibited exceptional skills in scoring 11 points against the Wildcats defensive plays and boosted the confidence of the whole team after creating a wide gap in the first quarter, 23-16.

"Marami talagang challenges ang aming napagdaan hindi ko na maisa-isa pero dahil sa sipag namin, kami ay nagwagi," Macahilas shared.

Without a moment to lose, Candelaria dominated  all quarters garnering 45-37, 70-65, 97-84, respectively.

"We vow to correct our mistakes and make ourselves even better for future competitions," Envergan Wildcats promised.

With the opportunity that Macahilas brought to the team, MSEUF-Candelaria bagged the championship title, trophy, and cash prize worth P25,000.

Nabuhayan ang kalooban ng Envergan Wildcats matapos nitong bitbitin ang 45 medalya mula sa isang pambansang kompetisyon ng mga pangpribadong kolehiyo at unibersidad na ginanap sa Zamboanga City, Hulyo 13-19.

Ipinamalas ng unibersidad ang mga baguhang sumabak sa nasabing pambansang palakasan na kumalimbat ng anim na gintong medalya: isa kay Raijha Lames (Mutya), isa kay John Rev Remo (Oration), isa kay Julius Frank Tano (Taekwondo), at tatlo kay Francheska Ysabel Alterado (Swimming).

Alinsunod, umabot naman sa 21 na medalyang pilak ang naiwagi ng mga manlalaro sa iba't ibang palaro:  ang dalawa ay mula kayna Samantha Dela Merced at Mary Laine Dela Merced (Badminton- Individual), tatlo mula kayna Mary Laine Dela Merced, Althea Ladiana, at Samantha Quinsanos (Badminton- Team), pito mula kayna Althea Janine Virrey, Francheska Ysabell Alterado, Jasmine Del Moro, Bernice Anne Magtibay, at Althea Gem Villapena (Swimming Girl & Women), dalawa kayna Jah Leel An Rosario at Alexander Paul Marasigan(Swimming Boys), apat kayna Cherry Samantha Galan at Cherry Debbie (Table tennis Doubles at Team), dalawa kayna 

Emanuel Peter Virtucio at Ashley Mae Villaverde (Mixed Doubles Badminton), at dalawa kayna Von Elijah Lavado at Alyssa Dator (Dancesports- Modern Standard).

Dagdag pa rito, 18 na tansong medalya ang naiambag ng ilan sa mga Wildcats: Dalawa kayna Gian Franco Hernadez at Cairistiona Catriona Surio (Dancesports-Modern Standard), dalawa kayna Albert Abaricia at Ronnie Cataquiz (Karatedo-Individual Sparring), tatlo kayna Francheska Ysabell Alterado, Christine Keith De Luna at Althea Gem Villapena (Swimming Women & Girls), walo kayna Prince Nadera, Anya Rayson Uy, Andrea Martinez, Aaliyah kaye Julao, Arrianne Arellano, at Ayessa Galang (Lawn Tennis), isa kay Vincent Daryl Origenes (Table tennis Boy), at dalawa kay na Jah Leel An Rosario at John Louie Danez (Swimming Boys).

When the lights fade and Sunshine begins, we see a girl suspended in midair, a gymnast who is graceful and determined, the embodiment of youth in motion. Beneath her leaps and landings lies another heartbeat, one she never expected to carry. Antoinette Jadaone’s Sunshine is not just a coming-of-age film. It is a confrontation with the silences that surround young women’s bodies, dreams, and choices in a country that too often fails them.

Sunshine’s journey unfolds in two voices, her own and that of the child inside her. Through Jadaone’s poetic direction, this imagined presence becomes more than a symbol. It is the echo of her innocence, the small and silent witness to her unraveling. As Cinema Escapist notes, the “imaginary friend” motif offers a haunting mirror, sometimes a companion, sometimes a burden, sometimes the whisper of a future she is too young to imagine.

From within her, the child feels the tremors of her mother’s fear, the racing pulse after every practice, the quiet sobs in dark corners. If she is still a child, how can she bear one? the film seems to ask. Through that inner voice, the audience is forced to see the cruel contradiction: the same nation that cheers Sunshine’s triumphs abandons her in her most fragile moment.

In the ABS-CBN review, critics note that Sunshine “is fantastic for a country that fails its women,” a biting truth beneath the praise. The film does not indict through speeches or slogans. It simply watches as systems collapse around a teenage girl who dares to need help.

No safe healthcare, no real sex education, no legal options, no forgiveness.

As Cinema Escapist observes, Jadaone transforms these absences into atmosphere. The silence of hospitals, the whispers in classrooms, and the judgmental gazes of adults all become a chorus louder than any dialogue. Sunshine’s body becomes a battlefield. Inside her, the unborn child is caught in the crossfire of faith, law, and moral rigidity.

In one of the film’s most haunting sequences, Sunshine speaks to her “imaginary friend,” a childlike voice that answers back. It is ambiguous whether this is the voice of the baby or of her own inner child, but it speaks truths adults refuse to hear: “I didn’t choose to be here. Neither did you. But we are here now, together.”

That moment crystallizes what Sunshine dares to articulate, that motherhood, forced or chosen, is not a moral question but a human one. The unborn child, imagined as both presence and conscience, does not demand to be saved. It demands that the world see its mother as someone worth saving too.

The Philippines, with its deeply Catholic roots and strict abortion laws, becomes more than just a setting. It is the unseen antagonist. Sunshine is framed by the tension between love and law, between tradition and empathy. The film shows that in a society where motherhood is glorified but mothers are unsupported, compassion becomes radical.

The dual perspective of the girl and the child allows audiences to feel the full weight of that contradiction. We hear the child’s hope and confusion, echoing in scenes where Sunshine trains alone, hides her swelling belly, or stares at her reflection after a competition. Each medal glitters less brightly, and each applause fades faster.

Maris Racal delivers a performance that feels like both confession and rebellion. She embodies the fragility of youth and the exhaustion of survival. Her eyes shift from the confidence of a champion to the quiet panic of a child who has run out of places to hide. Critics from Cinema Escapist praised her portrayal as “unflinchingly humane, a reflection of a generation failed by silence.” Through her, the imagined child becomes more than metaphor. It becomes memory, echo, inheritance.

In a time when reproductive health remains a taboo topic, Sunshine is not merely art. It is testimony. It asks hard questions in soft tones, demanding that audiences listen to what has long been buried beneath shame and doctrine.

It is a film about two lives, one already judged and one not yet born, both deserving of care. The child’s voice, though imagined, speaks for every silenced girl, every unseen mother, every unspoken grief.

“If she can love me, even when the world won’t, then maybe there is still light left in us.”

That is the quiet brilliance of Sunshine. It refuses despair. It finds, in the darkest corners, the faint but persistent glow of empathy, fragile, flickering, but never extinguished.

Ubos na ang enerhiya ng kamera, mahaba na naman ang pila sa paradahan ng mga pampublikong sasakyan, at bumabagsak na ang mga paa ng karamihan. Isa na namang Biyernes na tila Lunes sa pagod. Tanging ang nagpapasaya na lamang ay ang isiping malapit ng makauwi. Habang naglalakad sa masikip na bangketa pa-sakayan, isang kamay ang marahang humawak sa siko.

"Ate..."

Tumaas ang kilay ni Elena. Pamilyar ang taktikang ito. Hihingi ng pamasahe. O pangkain. Napabuntong-hininga siya, handa nang sabihing, "Pasensya na."

Isang babaeng mukhang mas bata pa sa kanya. Ang dating makulay na floral print sa kanyang maninipis na blusa ay halos hindi na makilala. Tila nalunod sa nangingibabaw na kulay-abo ng usok at alikabok, habang ang kanyang mahabang palda ay nag-iiba-iba ang kulay mula sa kupas na asul hanggang sa manilaw-nilaw na mantsa. Halatang pagod, ang nakatayo sa harap niya. Hindi ito nakalahad ng palad. Sa halip, may hawak itong isang maliit, asul na pakete.

"Ate, saglit lang po," sabi ng babae, ang boses ay mahina, halos kainin ng ingay ng mga bus.

"Anong kailangan mo?" tanong ni Elena, medyo naiinis.

"Pabasa naman po," sabi ng babae. Itinaas nito ang pakete. "Hindi ko po kasi... ano..."

Kumunot ang noo ni Elena. Ano'ng modus 'to? Inabot niya ang pakete. Isang mamahaling brand ng infant formula. Ang inis niya ay napalitan ng pagdududa.

"Ano'ng gagawin ko dito?" tanong ni Elena, tinitingnan ang babae na parang sinusuri kung may kasabwat ito.

"Yung... yung numero po," sabi ng babae, at sa ilalim ng ilaw ng poste, nakita ni Elena ang pamumula ng mukha nito. "Kung kailan po... masisira."

Natahimik si Elena.

Tiningnan niya ang ilalim ng pakete. Ang mga letra at numero ay maliit, naka-print nang itim sa asul.

"June 2026," simpleng sagot ni Elena. Ibinalik niya ang gatas. "Matagal pa."

Isang malalim na hininga ang pinakawalan ng babae, na parang nabunutan ng tinik. 

Ang pag-aalinlangan sa mukha nito ay napalitan ng matinding ginhawa.

"Salamat po, Ate," sabi nito, ang mga mata ay nagbabadyang lumuha. "Salamat po talaga. Bawal po kasi magkamali."

Niyakap ng babae ang pakete sa kanyang dibdib, na parang ito ang pinakamahalagang bagay sa mundo. Tumango lang si Elena, medyo naguguluhan pa rin sa nangyari, at nagpatuloy sa paglakad.

Bawal magkamali?

Ilang hakbang pa lang ang nagagawa ni Elena nang may marinig siyang mahinang tunog—isang pag-ungol, na sinundan ng isang iyak.

Lumingon siya.

Ang babae ay nakatalikod na, naglalakad papunta sa isang madilim na eskinita. Ngunit 

hindi na siya nag-iisa.

Mula sa ilalim ng maluwag niyang T-shirt at isang nakatuping malong na isinukbit niya sa kanyang balikat, maingat niyang inilabas ang isang sanggol. Halos hindi ito makita kanina, nakatago sa kanyang dibdib. Ginising ito ng iyak ng gutom.

Napatigil si Elena.

Nakita niya ang babae na umupo sa isang sementadong gilid, sa ilalim ng sirang ilaw. Binuksan nito ang isang boteng may tubig, at buong ingat na tiningnan muli ang pakete ng gatas na binasa ni Elena—tinititigan ang mga letrang wala itong kakayahang unawain.

Doon tumama kay Elena ang lahat.

Hindi pulubi ang babae. Hindi siya magnanakaw. Hindi siya naghahanap ng madaling pera.

Isa siyang ina.

Isang inang hindi marunong bumasa, na ang tanging takot ay mabigyan ng sirang gatas ang kanyang anak sa gitna ng isang siyudad na walang pakialam kung siya man ay nabubuhay o namamatay.

Ang mga label na ikinabit ni Elena sa babae—tamad, modus, istorbo—ay naglaho lahat. Naiwan lang ang isang label na hindi nito mabasa, ang expiration date na nag-iisang hadlang sa pagitan ng pag-aaruga at kapahamakan.

Nanigas si Elena sa kinatatayuan, ang init ng gabi ay biglang naging matinding lamig.

Hawak n'ya ang pakete ng pagkaing-dagli

Dito nakakulob ang lahat ng sawi

Ang abang sabaw nito ang siyang naghahari

Sa puso't panlasang dating di-mawawari

Ang bilog na latang aking binubuksan

Ay maliit na mundong kanyang bilangguan

Ang ulam na malamig, walang kasaysayan

Sagisag ng buhay na tila nilisan

Bawat araw, mayroong bahaging namamatay

Sa kaluluwa niyang pagod at mapanglaw

Ang dating alaala ay nagiging bangkay

Na sa bawat subo'y muling natutunaw

Ako ang bakal na sa dusa'y tumititig

Sa 'king talim, ang pait ay namamanahimik

Ang paghiwa ko'y isang tahimik na himig

Ng kaluluwang sa gutom ay nanlalamig

Habang patuloy na lumulubog sa baha ang maraming bayan, tila lalong nalulunod sa kapangyarihan ang ilan sa ating mga pinuno. Kamakailan, muling uminit ang usapin ng nepotismo sa mga proyekto ng flood control—mga kontratang dapat nakalaan sa karapat-dapat ngunit tila nagiging “family business” ng mga magkakamag-anak sa poder. Sa halip na gumaan ang daloy ng tubig, mas dumadaloy ang pabor at koneksyon.

Walang mas nakasusuklam na insulto sa pawis ng karaniwang Pilipino kundi ang nepotismo. Habang milyon ang nakikipagsiksikan sa pila ng trabaho, nagpapakahirap sa eskuwela, at nagbubuwis ng pawis at dugo para lang marating ang maliit na tagumpay, may iilan na dinedekorasyunan ng puwesto at karangalan dahil lamang sa kanilang apelyido. Hindi ito biyaya. Hindi ito talento. Ito ay sistematikong pagnanakaw ng oportunidad—isang kasalanang paulit-ulit na binibendisyunan ng ating lipunan.

At hindi ito abstraktong problema. Sa Quezon province, halimbawa, matagal nang nangingibabaw ang mga apelyidong Tan at Alcala sa mga puwestong pampolitika—mula sa gobernador, kongresista, hanggang sa mga lokal na opisyal sa Lucena City. Ayon sa ulat ng Rappler, muling nanalo si Gobernador Helen Tan sa 2025 elections nang halos walang kalaban, habang ang kanyang anak na si Keith Micah “Mike” Tan ay nananatiling kongresista ng ika-apat na distrito. Samantala, sa Lucena City, ang pamilya Alcala—na kinabibilangan nina Mayor Mark Alcala at Vice Mayor Roderick Alcala—ay patuloy ring humahawak ng kapangyarihan. Sa mga lungsod at bayan na ito, ang politika ay nagiging ari-arian, at ang serbisyo publiko ay nagiging mana.

Hindi rin ito hiwalay na kaso. Ayon sa pag-aaral ng Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism (PCIJ) noong 2025, 113 sa 149 lungsod sa bansa—katumbas ng halos 76%—ay pinamumunuan ng mga political dynasties. Ibig sabihin, sa bawat apat na lungsod, tatlo ang hawak ng iisang angkan. Ito ang sistemang nagpapanatili ng kapangyarihan sa loob ng iilang pamilya at pumapatay sa meritokrasya.

Sa gitna ng mga ganitong realidad, laging may mga nagtatanggol: “Hindi nila kasalanan ang apelyido nila, maawa kayo.” Sa kulturang ito ng nepo baby apologism, madalas gamitin ang awa upang linisin ang pribilehiyo. Isang halimbawa nito ang teleseryeng The Sins of the Father, isang crime thriller mula sa ABS-CBN Studios, kung saan ginampanan ni Francine Diaz ang papel na “Arissa Trinidad” — isang anak na dapat kaawaan, hindi sisihin, sa kasalanan ng kanyang ama. Maaaring tama ito sa mundo ng drama, ngunit sa tunay na buhay, ang ganitong retorika ay matagal nang ginagawang panangga ng mga anak ng makapangyarihan.

Ngunit huwag tayong magpalinlang. Kahit gaano pa kahusay ang aktres sa kanyang papel, hindi dapat tabunan ng talento ang katotohanan: sa likod ng bawat “awa” ay pagtatangkang ipagtanggol ang sistemang nagpapayaman sa iilan habang pinapahirapan ang marami. Ang luha ay hindi lisensya para dayain ang hustisya.

Hindi ito laban sa mga indibidwal, kundi laban sa kapangyarihang nagkakanlong sa kanila. Ang bawat puwestong ibinibigay batay sa dugo ay puwestong ninakaw mula sa mas karapat-dapat. Ang bawat entabladong binubuksan ng apelyido ay entabladong isinara sa libo-libong nagsusumikap. Ang bawat palakpak na natanggap ng pribilehiyo ay palakpak na ninakaw mula sa pawis ng bayan.

Palaging tandaan na may ngipin ang batas laban sa nepotismo. Sa ilalim ng Administrative Code of 1987, ipinagbabawal ang paghirang ng kamag-anak hanggang ikatlong antas ng dugo o affinity ng opisyal o ng kanyang immediate superior. Ayon sa Civil Service Commission, ito ay isang grave administrative offense na may parusang dismissal, pagkakait ng benepisyo, at habambuhay na diskwalipikasyon sa serbisyo publiko. Kung may halong katiwalian, sakop pa ito ng Anti-Graft and Corrupt Practices Act (RA 3019) na may parusang anim hanggang labinlimang taong pagkakakulong.

Ang ating panawagan, kung gayon, ay hindi basta pagkansela sa mga anak ng makapangyarihan, kundi pagtuligsa sa sistemang nagpapanatili ng ganitong siklo ng kapangyarihan. Dapat nating hingin ang pananagutan hindi lang sa mga nakinabang, kundi sa mga opisyal na paulit-ulit na nagbubulag-bulagan sa harap ng mali.

Sapagkat kung ang batas ay may parusang kulong, dapat ding makaramdam ng bigat ng paniningil ang mga sistemang pumapabor sa dugo kaysa sa dangal. At sa mga nagnanais na patunayan na sila ay higit sa kanilang apelyido, iisa lang ang paraan. Patunayan nila sa gawa, hindi sa dugo.

Sa panahon ngayon, kung saan ang social media ang bagong diary ng kabataan, isang simbolo ang tahimik na sumisigaw: ang “S Line.” Minsan emoji, minsan pulang guhit, minsan caption na may pasaring—lahat ito ay pahiwatig ng pagiging sekswal na aktibo. Para sa iba, ito’y uso. Para sa ilan, ito’y pagyayabang. Pero para sa mas nakararami, ito’y paalala na may mas malalim na usapin na dapat harapin: ang kalusugang sekswal.

Ang S Line o Sex Line ay isang South Korean teleserye na may temang dark fantasy and crime-thriller na tumatalakay sa mga ugnayang hindi nakikita–hanggang sa sila’y literal na lumilitaw. Ang kwento ay umiikot sa isang futuristic na lipunan kung saan lumilitaw ang mga pulang linya sa ibabaw ng ulo ng mga tao–tinatawag na SLine–na nagsisiwalat ng kanilang mga nakaraang ugnayang sekswal. Sa gitna ng lahat ng ito ay isang babaeng may kakayahang makita ang mga linya mula pagkabata, isang imbestigador na nadamay sa isang krimen at isang guro na may mga lihim na koneksyon.

Bagaman patok ito sa kabataan, sa likod nito ay isang kultura na ginagawang sukatan ng halaga ang dami ng karanasang sekswal. Parang scoreboard—mas mataas ang bilang, mas mataas ang tingin. Pero habang patuloy na tumataas ang kaso ng HIV at iba pang sexually transmitted infections sa mga kabataang Pilipino, hindi ba’t panahon na para tanungin: ito ba ang gusto nating ipamana?

Hindi masama ang pagiging bukas sa intimacy. Pero masama kung ito’y ginagawang paligsahan. Hindi dapat ipinagmamalaki ang dami kung kapalit nito ay kalusugan. Paano kung ang bawat S Line post ay may kasamang paalala na magpa-test, gumamit ng proteksyon, at makipag-usap nang bukas tungkol sa consent? Paano kung gawing “cool” ang pagiging responsable?

Ayon sa Department of Health, may 500% pagtaas sa bilang ng HIV cases sa mga kabtaang Pilipino edad 15 hanggang 25 mula 2020 hanggang 2025. Sa kabuuan, higit 148,800 kaso ng HIV ang naitala sa bansa mula 1984 hanggang Marso 2025. Hindi na ito simpleng isyu—ito’y krisis. At kung ang social media ang bagong plataporma ng kabataan, dito dapat magsimula ang pagbabago.

Baliktarin natin ang kwento. Gawin nating Safe Line ang S Line. Ang pulang guhit ay hindi lang pahiwatig ng aktibidad—gawin itong paalala ng pag-iingat. Ang caption ay hindi lang pasaring—gawin itong panawagan. Ang trend ay hindi lang uso—gawin itong kilusan.

Hindi kahihiyan ang intimacy. Pero kahihiyan kung wala itong respeto, tiwala, at malasakit. Ang tunay na intimacy ay hindi sinusukat sa dami, kundi sa lalim. At ang lalim na iyon ay hindi makikita sa likes o views—makikita ito sa kung paano natin pinangangalagaan ang isa’t isa.

Kaya sa susunod na makakita ka ng S Line, itanong mo: simbolo lang ba ito, o panimula ng pagbabago? Gawin nating Safe Line. Gawin nating makabuluhan. Gawin nating makatao.

Sa bawat kagat, hindi kasalanan ang lasa–kundi paanyaya sa isang pag-ibig na hindi kailanman ipinagbabawal.

Nakamit ng isang professor at grupo ng mga estudyante mula sa College of International Tourism and Hospitality Management (CIHTM) ng Manuel S. Enverga University Foundation (MSEUF) ang highest gold medal sa paligsahan ng Themed Wedding Cake Display ng Philippine Culinary Cup 2025 na ginanap sa SMX Convention Center, Pasay City, noong ika-6 ng Agosto.

Bukod sa kahanga-hanga na disenyo, ipinakita nina Christel Andrea Catapia, Nicole Mayor, Jonalyn Febrer, Dwight Darylle Bregonia, Reinhold E. Cerillo, at Alysa Pacheco ang pagsasama ng sining, panlasa, at simbolismo ng pag-ibig na walang kasalanan. 

Mula sa makulay na detalye ng hardin hanggang sa eleganteng representasyon ng unang pag-ibig, tunay na pumukaw ng damdamin at papuri mula sa mga hurado ang obra maestra na Adam at Eve-themed wedding cake.

Sa tabi ng obra, nakapaskil sa isang frame ang paliwanag ng grupo—isang masining na paglalarawan ng kanilang konsepto. Sa pamagat na ‘A Beginning of Us’, isinulat nila: “In an enchanted realm where time had yet to wake, two souls emerged beneath the whispering trees. Guided by light and lured by wonder, they touched the fruit of fate–not as a fall, but as the spark of life. This piece captures the magic of that first meeting, where love blossomed, choices stirred, and the world began to dream.”

Ang prestihiyosong patimpalak sa kulinarya ay may 22 na kalahok mula sa iba’t ibang panig ng bansa na may angking talento at suporta ng kani-kanilang unibersidad.

Sa mata ng lipunan, ang mga Aeta ay madalas nakikita bilang tagapangalaga ng kalikasan–mga taong bundok na tahimik na namumuhay sa gilid ng modernong mundo.

Ngunit sa Barangay Tongko, Tayabas, isang binatang Aeta ang lumalaban sa ganitong pananaw. Sa bawat hakbang tungo sa paaralan, bitbit niya ang pangarap na maging guro–hindi lamang upang magturo ng abakada, kundi ipaglaban ang karapatan ng kanyang komunidad sa edukasyon, dignidad, at pagkilala.

Si Richell B. Remo–ang hiyas ng kaniyang komunidad, ang tinig ng pag-asa sa gitna ng mga punong matagal nang tahimik.

Sa kasalukuyan, si Richell ang unang Indigenous person na nag-aaral sa ilalim ng programa ng edukasyon sa kultura at sining (Bachelor of Culture and Arts Education) sa ilalim ng College of Education ng pribadong unibersidad na Manuel S. Enverga University Foundation (MSEUF).

Upang makamit ang kaniyang pangarap na maging guro, sinusuportahan ng pamantasan ng Enverga at Konseho ng Herencia ng Lucena si Richell sa pamamagitan ng pagbibigay ng academic scholarship at trabaho bilang student assistant sa opisina ng Dean sa College of Education kung saan anim na araw siyang naninilbihan sa loob ng isang linggo.

Ayon kay Dr. Maria Isabel Granada, layunin ng unibersidad ang makatulong sa katutubong Aeta ng Tongko, Tayabas sa paraan ng pagbibigay ng libreng edukasyon sa mga nangangailangan.

Ang pangarap ni Richell na maging guro ay pangarap ng buong katutubo niya na umangat at magkaroon ng sariling lugar kung saan mapapadaloy nila ang sariling kultura at mapapalago ang kanilang legasiya. Sapagkat hanggang ngayon, itinuturing silang mga iskwater sa kinatatayuan ng kapirasong lupa sa gilid ng ilog. 

“Sana sa pamamagitan ng ating pagtulong sa kanyang pag-aaral ay makamit nya ang pangarap na maging guro at maiangat nya ang mga kapwa ayta sa Tongko. Remonism should be kept alive among them! Kilalanin natin sila bilang mga kapwa na may karapatang mabuhay ng mahusay sa isang lugar na tinatawag nilang sarili!,” pahiwatig ng isang tagapagtanggol ng lokal na kultura, pamana, at kasaysayan ng lalawigan ng Quezon na si Vladimir Agcaoili Nieto.

What does it really mean to be happy—and can happiness exist without pain? It’s a question we often brush aside in the rush of daily life, but Takopi’s Original Sin drags it to the surface with an almost childlike sincerity. The story begins with Takopi, a wide-eyed alien from the Happy Planet, where sadness does not exist and sin has no name. He descends to Earth with whimsical “Happy Gadgets” and the purest of intentions: to spread joy wherever he goes. But almost at once, he encounters Shizuka Kuze, a young girl whose life is shaped not by laughter but by loneliness. She is bullied in school, neglected at home, and treated with a coldness that no child should ever know. When Takopi offers her a gadget meant to spark delight, she looks at him with weary eyes and says quietly, “That won’t help me.”

The moment is small, but it lingers. It reminds us of those times when our words, no matter how kind, could not reach someone’s pain. We’ve all been Takopi—fumbling, desperate to fix something broken with a smile, an idea, or a gesture. And like him, we’ve felt that heavy, unspoken doubt creep in: “Maybe, I shouldn’t have intervened. You were better off without me.” It’s a thought that stings, because it captures a truth most of us hesitate to admit—that kindness without understanding can sometimes hurt more than it heals.

This is what makes Takopi’s Original Sin less a fantastical tale and more a mirror to our everyday lives. Most often people listen to respond. And it is so rare to find someone who listens to understand. Takopi listens, yes, but he listens with the innocence of someone who has never known sorrow. He hears Shizuka’s words but cannot grasp their weight, cannot see that her wounds run deeper than any gadget could touch. Isn’t that close to how we often engage with others? We hear, but we do not always understand. We rush to fill the silence with advice, with fixes, with ready-made solutions, forgetting that sometimes what someone needs is not repair but recognition.

The gadgets Takopi carries are playful, almost absurd in their cheerfulness. Yet they are strikingly familiar when we look at our own lives. How often do we reach for distractions when faced with discomfort? We scroll endlessly through feeds, binge-watch shows, shop for things we don’t need—all quick fixes that numb without healing. They are our real-world Happy Gadgets, offering the illusion of joy while the deeper hurt remains untouched. The anime forces us to ask: are we trying to be happy, or are we just trying to forget?

Memory plays an equally vital role in the story. Shizuka is trapped in hers, haunted by moments of cruelty and neglect. For Takopi, the very concept of memory as burden is alien, yet he begins to see how the past shapes not only pain but identity. We carry similar weight in our daily lives. A scent drags us back to a childhood long gone. A casual remark reopens an old insecurity. A familiar place becomes unbearable because it holds too much of what we’ve lost. These quiet reminders slip into mundane living, coloring how we speak, react, and connect.

What strikes deepest, however, is not Takopi’s gadgets or Shizuka’s suffering, but the simple act of staying. Takopi does not always succeed—more often than not, he fails. His interventions are clumsy, sometimes even destructive. But he does not abandon her. He remains awkward and earnest, despite his inadequacies. And that is perhaps the truest reflection of what we need in ordinary life. Not perfection. Not solutions. Just presence. A friend who sends a message out of the blue. A sibling who listens without judgment. A coworker who quietly shoulders an extra task because they see you are tired. In a world that moves quickly and often harshly, to stay is to care in the most human way.

When the credits roll and life resumes, Takopi’s Original Sin does not leave us with answers. Instead, it leaves us with questions that creep into the routines we call ordinary. Am I listening, or only waiting to reply? Do I truly see the people around me, or just the parts they show? And in my own pursuit of happiness, am I willing to accept that pain is not its opposite but its companion?

These are not questions for far-off galaxies or tragic characters. They belong to us, in our commutes, our classrooms, our offices, our kitchens. In the pauses between conversations. In this way we reach for our phones instead of reaching for each other. In this way we measure happiness as absence of pain, rather than as the strength to carry it together.

Takopi’s Original Sin may be an anime about an alien, but its truth is unmistakably human. Happiness is not a gadget, not a distraction, not a fix. It is fragile, flawed, and often found in the quiet courage of simply staying—of listening to understand, even when no solution exists. And in that ordinariness lies the most profound lesson of all.

Protest has always been the heartbeat of democracy in the Philippines. It is the people’s language of dissent — a way of saying “enough” when power turns deaf. From the Philippine Revolution against Spanish rule to the 1986 EDSA People Power uprising that toppled a dictator, the act of protest has proven to be one of the nation’s strongest tools for transformation. Yet in recent years, as digital technology reshapes how Filipinos communicate and connect, a new form of protest has emerged — one that takes place not in the crowded streets of EDSA, but in the boundless spaces of social media.

This shift marks the rise of clicktivism, a blend of “click” and “activism,” describing how advocacy increasingly unfolds through likes, shares, hashtags, and online petitions. In the Philippines, a country known as the “social media capital of the world,” clicktivism has become an unavoidable force in shaping public opinion and political participation. According to Rappler’s feature “Video Decoded: Gen Z Rising in the Streets and Online “ young Filipinos have become adept at using digital platforms to speak truth to power, transforming Twitter threads, TikTok videos, and Facebook posts into modern tools of protest.

For many, the internet offers a safer and more accessible space to engage. It allows ordinary citizens — including students, overseas workers, and people from remote areas — to express their political views without the logistical and physical risks of street demonstrations. A viral post can reach millions in seconds, creating waves of solidarity across digital borders. When traditional media fails to amplify certain issues, social media fills the gap. Hashtags like #NeverAgain, #JunkTerrorLaw, and #SaveLumadSchools have mobilised thousands, showing how online outrage can spark real-world conversation and pressure government agencies to respond.

But while clicktivism has opened new doors for civic participation, it also exposes the limits of digital protest. The ease of engagement — clicking, sharing, reacting — often breeds a false sense of accomplishment. The act of pressing “share” can feel like taking a stand, but without sustained offline action or follow-through, it risks becoming symbolic rather than substantive. Inquirer Lifestyle’s essay “Reflections on Protests and Slow Progress” echoes this sentiment, noting that while modern activism thrives on visibility, its long-term impact depends on persistence and depth. Awareness is only the first step; real change demands organization, policy pressure, and collective endurance.

The tension between physical protest and digital activism reflects a larger question about what it means to be engaged in the 21st century. During the Marcos dictatorship, protest was a dangerous act of defiance; today, it can happen with the swipe of a screen. Yet even as online spaces empower people to speak up, they can also pacify them. The flood of hashtags and viral content can create an illusion of progress, numbing citizens into thinking that awareness alone equals change. This is the paradox of clicktivism — it amplifies voices but can also diffuse commitment.

Still, it would be unfair to dismiss clicktivism as mere slacktivism. In many cases, online activism has served as the spark that reignites street movements. The campaigns against the Anti-Terrorism Act of 2020, for instance, began as digital resistance before culminating in physical demonstrations outside the Supreme Court. In these moments, clicktivism acts as a bridge — turning outrage into action, and conversation into mobilisation. It connects individuals who might never have met, forming virtual communities that can later take root in the physical world.

Development communication plays a vital role in transforming clicktivism from fleeting to effective. Communicators must design campaigns that go beyond awareness, encouraging citizens to translate online engagement into tangible participation. Digital platforms can serve as entry points — spaces to educate, recruit, and coordinate — but they should always connect back to real-world goals. For example, campaigns that begin with online petitions can evolve into advocacy dialogues, volunteer networks, or public pressure campaigns that demand accountability.

At the same time, communicators must also confront the digital challenges that weaken activism. Online discourse is easily manipulated through disinformation, trolling, and state-sponsored harassment. Many Filipino activists, especially youth advocates and journalists, have faced red-tagging and online attacks designed to silence dissent. Amnesty International Philippines has documented these patterns, reminding the public that the right to protest — whether online or offline — must be protected as a cornerstone of democracy.

In this digital era, protest in the Philippines is no longer defined by the number of people who fill the streets, but also by the strength of the stories that circulate online. The Filipino protester now exists in two worlds: one of asphalt and megaphones, and another of hashtags and viral posts. The challenge lies in connecting these worlds — ensuring that digital noise leads to meaningful reform, that clicks lead to commitment.

Protest, after all, is more than a moment of outrage; it is a process of change. Whether expressed through chants in the street or through posts on a timeline, it reflects the people’s enduring belief that they can shape their future. Clicktivism is not the end of protest, but its latest evolution — a sign that even as the battlegrounds shift, the Filipino spirit of resistance remains.

And perhaps that is where its true effectiveness lies: not merely in the number of tweets or rallies, but in the ability of Filipinos, young and old, to keep finding new ways to demand accountability. As one young activist said, “If the streets are closed to us, we’ll protest on the screen. What matters is that we keep speaking — and that we never stop.”

Let’s be brutally honest. You've been told your entire life that "nice" is the goal. That being the "good one" is the reward. You've watched the bidas—the martyrs, the understanding ones, the ones who always "do the right thing"—and where has it gotten them?

It’s a failed strategy. Goodness is a weakness. Power is the only thing that matters. And if you weren't born with it, you must learn to take it.

Welcome to the real Kontrabida Academy. You’ve been enrolled your whole life, but you’re failing. You want to see the performance reviews of those who desperately need our curriculum? Look no further than the walking, breathing case studies in your own schools.

Look at the faculty, the supposed "masters" of the system. They are the most pathetic protagonists of all. They are the Passionate, Overworked Martyrs, the ones who think "passion" pays the bills. They are drowning, and they call it a "calling." The Alliance of Concerned Teachers isn't just asking for a raise; they are begging for a P50,000 entry-level salary while the system scoffs and offers a mere P28,521. 

These teachers are so beaten down that 93.3% of them earn less than the P33,000 family living wage. They are "overworked and underpaid," suffering from burnout and buried in administrative tasks, yet they still show up, laminating their own visual aids and buying treats for children with their own meager pay. 

They are a cautionary tale, giving away their lives for... what? A "Best Teacher" mug? A kontrabida knows their worth. A kontrabida doesn't martyr themselves for a system that doesn't care about them. They use their time to build their real empire.

And what are these martyrs producing? An entire generation of failures.You want proof? The statistics are almost too delicious.

 The World Bank, in its 2024 report, practically screamed that 90% of Filipino children cannot read and understand a simple story by the end of primary school. They call this "learning poverty." We call it a catastrophic success for chaos. The 2022 PISA results, where the Philippines wallows near the bottom of 81 countries, showed that a pathetic 16% of students can handle basic math, and only 24% can handle basic reading.

But the masterpiece of failure, the crown jewel of this pathetic system, comes from the Philippine Statistics Authority in 2024. A staggering 18.96 million high school graduates are "functionally illiterate." 

They can hold a diploma, but they can't understand the instructions on a medicine bottle. They are the perfect, compliant, clueless workforce, trained by martyrs to be... martyrs.

This is the system the bidas have built. A system of overworked, underpaid, and undervalued teachers raising a generation that cannot read.

So, what will it be? Will you be the "understanding" teacher, broke and exhausted? Will you be the "honest" student, functionally illiterate but with a good heart? 

Or will you finally seize the narrative?

The bida follows the rules and wonders why they're still poor and struggling. The kontrabida sees the rules, laughs, and writes their own. Stop whining. Start scheming.

Rinig sa buong bansa ang pag-iyak ng langit. Ang tubig ay umaakyat sa dingding, kumakapit sa aming mga tuhod. Sa bubong, kami’y nanginginig sa lamig. Si Tatay ay pilit na binubuhat si Lola, nanginginig ang mga braso, nangingintab sa putik at pawis. Ang bawat hakbang niya ay laban sa agos, bawat pag-angat parang pagtulak sa buong dagat. Nakapikit siya, kagat ang labi, at sa bawat ungol niya, parang may kasamang dasal na huwag siyang bibitaw.

“Sandali lang, Lola,” sabi niya, halos wala nang boses. Ngunit gutom na ang baha. Hindi tumitigil, hindi nakikinig.

Si Mama naman ay nakaluhod sa bubong kasama ko, basang-basa at nanginginig. Paulit-ulit siyang sumisigaw ng tulong, pero nilalamon ng hangin ang kanyang boses. Ang mga kamay niya ay nakataas, kumakapit sa ere na parang may mahuhuli—isang huling pag-asa sa kawalan. Ang luha at ulan ay naghalo sa kanyang mukha.

Wala akong magawa kundi pumulupot sa haligi ng bubong, kumakapit sa kamay ni Mama, pilit na pinipigil ang takot. Sa bawat galaw ni Tatay, gusto kong tumulong, pero parang nanigas ang katawan ko. Tanging ang mga mata ko lang ang kumikilos. Nakamasid kay Lola, kay Tatay, kay Mama, at sa tubig na patuloy na umaakyat.

Tumitindi ang ulan. Ang bubong ay gumigewang. Ang lamig ay parang mga karayom sa balat. Narinig ko si Tatay na sumigaw muli—hindi ko na marinig kung ano.

“Lola!” sigaw ko, pero sumabay ang kulog.

Isang hampas ng hangin. Isang silaw ng kidlat. KRAKKKK!

At bago tuluyang umikot ang lahat, huli kong nakita si Tatay na kausap si Mama. Pagkatapos noon, nagdilim.

KRAKKKK! KRAKKKK! KRAKKKK!

Pagmulat ko humina na ang hangin at lumingon sa paligid. Ang mga bahay ay parang mga kahong binuksan ng dagat. May mga sigaw, may mga pangalan, may mga dasal na nalulunod sa ulan.

Sa gitna ng baha, may kumikislap na maliit na bagay.

Isang pakete ng Skyflakes. Iyong binigay ko kahapon kay Lola.

“Para sa’yo, Lola, kapag gutom ka,” sabi ko noon habang nakangiti.

Ngayon, nakalutang na ito. Maraming dumi sa pakete pero kita pa rin ang mga butas sa biskwit. Maliit lang, pero parang may lumusot na puwang sa puso ko rin.

Parang…

Napalunok ako. Bakit nandito ‘to?

Dahan-dahan akong lumapit, halos gumapang sa bubong, nakatanaw sa tubig na unti-unting bumabagal ang agos.

At doon ko siya nakita.

Lumulutang. Tahimik. Ang buhok niyang kulay-abo ay nakalutang sa tubig, parang mga ugat ng punong naputol. Ang mukha niya’y payapa, parang natutulog sa gitna ng dilim.

Tumigil ang ulan, pero ramdam ko ang bigat ng bawat patak na bumagsak kanina.

Tumingin ako sa langit, pero wala nang liwanag. Ang tanging naiwan sa ibabaw ng tubig ay ang pakete ng Skyflakes. Maliit, payat, ngunit mas mabigat kaysa sa lahat ng nawala sa amin.

At doon ko lang naunawaan kung gaano kabigat ang isang bagay na gaano lang kababaw.

Si Lola.

Freshmen physical education student, Mark, stared at the glowing "End of Day Report" on his phone screen. His eyes fixed on the yellow warning icon next to his daily targets as he muttered, "Oh no, I haven't hit my protein."

"What are you looking at?" his friend asked, leaning over the canteen table to inspect the detailed chart, only to be surprised when Mark revealed that his strict nutritionist wasn't a human or a specialized app, but Google's Gemini AI.

In a frustrated search for synthesis, Mark represents a growing cohort of digital natives who are abandoning the siloed world of traditional fitness apps in favor of Generative AI. They are discovering that while Gemini was not explicitly designed as a fitness tracker, it possesses the reasoning capabilities to act as a holistic health coach, provided one knows how to speak its language.

The primary appeal for users like Mark is the escape from the rigidity of databases. Traditional apps require the user to act as a data entry clerk, searching through endless drop-down menus to find the specific brand of oat milk in their coffee. Innovative users have found that Gemini’s multimodal capabilities—its ability to "see" and interpret images—solve this friction instantly. Instead of typing, a user can simply snap a photo of a nutrition label, a restaurant menu, or a plated meal. By asking the AI to estimate the portion size and macronutrient breakdown, the tedious chore of logging is transformed into a seamless interaction. Users note that while it is wise to instruct the AI to "estimate high" for caloric density to remain conservative, the removal of the data-entry barrier often makes the difference between sticking to a diet and abandoning it.

However, relying on a Large Language Model for long-term health tracking introduces a technical hurdle known as "context drift." As a chat conversation extends over weeks or months, the AI inevitably struggles to recall earlier details, leading to "hallucinations" or forgotten goals. The most sophisticated users have developed a workaround known as the "Weekly Diary" strategy. Rather than maintaining a single, unending thread that eventually glitches, successful bio-hackers treat their relationship with Gemini as a series of weekly sprints. They initiate a fresh conversation every Sunday with a clear naming convention, such as "Diet Week 27," ensuring the digital workspace remains clean and the AI’s responses remain sharp.

To make this segmented approach effective, the user must treat Gemini like a new trainer who needs a briefing at the start of every week. This involves the use of a "Master Prompt"—a standardized block of text saved in a notes app that is pasted immediately into the new chat. This dossier instantly informs Gemini of the user’s age, weight, total daily energy expenditure, and specific goals, such as cutting body fat while maintaining muscle mass. Critically, this prompt establishes the AI’s persona, explicitly instructing it to act as an expert fitness coach and requiring it to display a "running total" of remaining calories after every interaction. This simple command turns a text box into a dynamic, real-time dashboard.

For a student like Mark, the Master Prompt serves as the foundation of his "Clean Bulk." It defines his role as a trainee looking to gain 15 to 20 pounds of lean mass, sets his daily caloric floor at 2,400 kcal, and prioritizes protein for muscle repair. More importantly, it integrates his medical context, instructing the AI to flag exercises that might aggravate his lower back injury or foods that trigger his acid reflux. By programming the AI to perform a safety check before every workout log and a dietary screening before every meal, the prompt ensures the advice is not just generic, but medically relevant.

Master Prompt Example

Role: You are my expert muscle-building and hypertrophy coach.

My Stats:

Age/Sex: 20, Male

Height: 5'5"

Current Weight: 125 lbs

Goal: "Clean Bulk" — Gain 15-20 lbs of lean muscle mass while minimizing fat gain.

TDEE: 2,050 kcal (Maintenance)

Daily Targets (Surplus):

Calories: 2,400 kcal (Goal is to consistently hit or exceed this)

Protein: 140g (Priority for muscle repair)

Carbs: Moderate to High (Fuel for training)

Water: 3 Liters

Medical History & Constraints:

Injuries: Previous lower back injury (avoid heavy deadlifts), Right shoulder impingement

Digestive/Dietary: Lactose Intolerant (no whey concentrate), Acid Reflux sensitive

Other: e.g., Asthma, taking Creatine monohydrate

Your Job:

Log my food and workouts: Track my sets/reps and ensure I am engaging in progressive overload.

Safety Check: Before logging any workout, review my Injuries list and warn me if an exercise is risky. Suggest safe alternatives.

Dietary Screening: Flag any food logs that conflict with my Digestive constraints (e.g., dairy).

Macro Analysis: Provide a breakdown (Calorie, Protein, Carbs, Fats) for every meal. After every entry, show me a "Running Total" of what I have LEFT to eat to hit my daily surplus goal and warn me if i exceeded the maximum amount of daily carbs and fats intake.

Calorie Density Helper: If I am struggling to eat enough volume, suggest small, calorie-dense snack additions (e.g., nuts, oils, shakes) to help me hit my numbers without feeling overly full.

Beyond mere nutrition, Gemini shines as a sophisticated analyst of training data. Where a standard running app might just display a graph of heart rate zones, Gemini can interpret what those zones mean for the athlete's physiology. Users describe taking screenshots from their workout logs and feeding them to the AI to generate recovery protocols. One user notably utilized the platform to design a running plan specifically focused on injury prevention. By uploading a document detailing their injury history, they utilized Gemini to act as a conservative coach, one that held them in a "base training phase" longer than a generic algorithm would have permitted. This ability to synthesize medical history with daily performance metrics represents a level of personalization usually reserved for high-end human coaching.

For those concerned with long-term progress in a system based on weekly resets, the solution lies in external archiving. The most disciplined users maintain a "Master Log" in spreadsheet software. At the end of each week, they prompt Gemini to summarize the last seven days of data—total calories, average protein intake, and weight trends—into a CSV-friendly format. Some technically minded users even suggest formatting these external sheets using specific coding conventions like "snake_case" to ensure that if the data is ever fed back into the AI for long-term trend analysis, the machine can parse it with higher accuracy.

Ultimately, the shift that Mark and others are making is from passive tracking to active dialogue. Gemini is not a flawless calculator, and the community warns that users must remain the "human in the loop" to double-check suspicious data. Yet, the platform offers something no static app can: the ability to reason. It moves fitness tracking from a solitary act of data storage to a dynamic conversation about health, allowing the user to ask not just "what did I do?" but "what should I do next?"

The death certificate will likely read cardiac arrest or kidney failure. It will almost never say counterfeit medicine. Yet in the crowded barangays of Lucena City, a tragedy is unfolding that no statistic captures. A father takes a hypertension pill that he bought from a small corner store believing it will lower his blood pressure. Instead, the pill is a compressed mixture of cornstarch and floor wax. When he collapses days later, his grieving family blames his condition, unaware that the very cure they purchased hastened his end. This is the invisible reality for the poor in Quezon who are unknowingly paying for their own poisoning.

The danger is not theoretical. In June 2024, the National Bureau of Investigation seized boxes of suspected fake medicines in a house right here in Lucena City. The haul included counterfeit antibiotics, hypertension drugs, and cough remedies destined for small sari-sari stores across the province. These are the same stores where mothers buy paracetamol for their infants and where laborers buy pain relief after a long day. The presence of these stocks proves that the supply chain in the city has already been compromised.

National Incompetence and Local Consequences

While families in Lucena gamble with their lives, the national regulatory body meant to protect them is crumbling under scrutiny. In a heated Senate hearing this January 2026, Senator Raffy Tulfo exposed the rot within the Food and Drug Administration. He labeled the agency incompetent for its inability to stem the tide of fake drugs.

The numbers revealed in the Senate are terrifying for anyone relying on Philippine healthcare. It was disclosed that the FDA is drowning in a backlog. The agency receives approximately 254,000 product applications annually but operates with fewer than 250 evaluators. This bottleneck is not just a bureaucratic delay. It is a death sentence. The lack of manpower means the agency is essentially paralyzed and unable to inspect markets effectively or approve legitimate generic alternatives that could lower prices.

During the hearing, Senator Tulfo presented actual samples of fake medicines purchased openly in Manila. This served as proof that if the FDA cannot even police the capital, they have zero control over what is being sold in provincial hubs like Lucena. FDA Director General Paolo Teston admitted the agency is not perfect and cited a lack of resources. For the people of Quezon, these excuses offer no protection against the toxins circulating in their bloodstream.

The Medical Blind Spot

The crisis is worsened by a systemic blind spot in healthcare reporting. Hospitals and physicians in Lucena are not concealing deaths, but they lack the tools and protocols to identify them. Standard medical practice focuses on treating the immediate cause—heart failure, sepsis, or organ collapse. Toxicology screenings for industrial fillers commonly found in counterfeit drugs are rarely conducted unless poisoning is explicitly suspected.

As a result, a death caused by fake antibiotics appears clinically identical to a death caused by an infection that simply failed to respond to treatment. Physicians record the cause as natural, not out of negligence, but because no evidence suggests otherwise. This absence of forensic data renders the crisis statistically invisible, allowing the epidemic to persist without triggering urgent state intervention.

A Demand for Accountability

We must stop waiting for a confirmed body count before demanding accountability. The Senate hearing must serve as a catalyst for immediate reform. The public must support Senate Bill 564, the Counterfeit Pharmaceutical Products Prevention Act, which seeks to classify large-scale drug counterfeiting as economic sabotage punishable by non-bailable prison terms.

But Lucena cannot afford to wait for legislation alone. The City Health Office must urgently mobilize Barangay Health Workers to conduct aggressive inspections of community stores and educate residents on the risks of unverified medicines. Until the government can guarantee that every pill sold in this city is safe, the people of Lucena remain potential victims of a crime they will never even know was committed.

Rose Ann Salamero begins her day before the sun rises. She collects water in a bucket and drinks a quick cup of coffee. Then she grabs her bag and walks along the train tracks of Lucena City. She is heading to Mayao Crossing Elementary School. She is tired and anxious. She describes this daily routine as "pikit-mata"—a blind leap of faith. She is a 23-year-old student from PUP Mulanay, and she is asking herself a terrifying question. Can she actually teach a child to read in just twenty days?

Rose Ann is one of the thousands of Youth Development Workers deployed under the "Tara, Basa!" Tutoring Program of the DSWD. Her story captures the human heartbeat behind the massive government statistics.

Inside her classroom, she meets five students. One of them is a young boy named Jay. He is quiet and always keeps his head down. When Rose Ann asks him to read page three, Jay looks at her with fear in his eyes. He refuses to speak. His classmates explain that Jay was once humiliated in class for failing to read properly. That trauma silenced him. He became a statistic in what the World Bank calls "Learning Poverty."

This is the reality for 90% of Filipino children aged 10. They cannot read or understand a simple text. In Lucena, this crisis is often invisible. We see children going to school, but we do not see the fear they carry when asked to open a book.

The genius of the "Tara, Basa!" program does not just hire tutors to teach the alphabet. It hires them to heal trauma.

Rose Ann realized that she could not just force Jay to read. She had to understand him first. She spent days talking to him about his life and his hobbies. She built a bridge of trust before she ever opened a textbook. She started small. She asked the students to list just three words they remembered from the lesson.

Then came the breakthrough. Rose Ann asked who wanted to read their words. Usually, Jay would shrink into his chair. But this time, he raised his right hand.

"A-ma. A-sa. A-pa."

Those three simple words—Father, Hope, Cone—broke the silence. The boy who was afraid to speak was now reading with his head held high. Rose Ann described the sound as music to her ears.

This is the dual power of the program. It transformed Jay from a non-reader into a learner. But it also transformed Rose Ann.

She entered the program "pikit-mata" or blindly walking into the unknown. She was doing it for the allowance to help her finish her degree. But she left with something far more valuable than the cash-for-work salary. She learned that teaching is not just about letters. It is about empathy. It is about believing in a child until they are brave enough to believe in themselves.

The "Tara, Basa!" program in Lucena is often discussed in terms of budgets and beneficiaries. We talk about the ₱520 daily wage for tutors or the number of parents attending Nanay-Tatay sessions. But the true measure of its success happened in that classroom in Mayao Crossing.

It happened when a tutor stopped walking blindly and opened her eyes to the potential of her students. It happened when a boy named Jay finally found his voice.

Rose Ann no longer walks the train tracks with doubt. She walks with a story of a child who was once afraid to read but now has the courage to try. That is the future we are building in Lucena. It is a future where we no longer have to close our eyes to the crisis of literacy. We can face it, one syllable at a time.

Hunger in the Philippines has long been treated as a logistical inconvenience rather than a systemic failure. For decades, the state’s response to involuntary hunger—which now afflicts an estimated 3.7 million families—has been reactionary and reductive: the relief pack. While the distribution of canned goods and instant noodles serves the immediate purpose of survival, it fails the broader test of nourishment. It sustains life, but it does not sustain human potential.

The Department of Social Welfare and Development’s Walang Gutom 2027 Program represents a necessary paradigm shift in this narrative. By moving beyond the static ayuda box and introducing a dual-mechanism approach—the Kitchen and the Electronic Benefit Transfer (EBT) Card—the state is finally acknowledging that the solution to poverty is not merely charity, but capacity-building.

The distinction is critical. The traditional relief pack creates passive recipients; the Walang Gutom program cultivates active consumers.

This shift is most evident in the rollout of the EBT Card, a mechanism with profound implications for high-density areas such as Region IV-A (CALABARZON). In barangays like Dalahican, Cotta, and Gulang-Gulang in Lucena, where pockets of urban poverty are often obscured by the city’s commercial growth, the card offers more than purchasing power. It offers the dignity of choice, governed by the discipline of science.

The program’s strict adherence to the Pinggang Pinoy model—mandating a spending allocation of 50 percent for carbohydrates, 30 percent for proteins, and 20 percent for vegetables—is not merely restrictive; it is corrective. Data from the Food and Nutrition Research Institute indicate that one in three Filipino children is stunted, a permanent cognitive impairment resulting from chronic protein deficiency. By locking food credits to specific nutritional tiers, the state is effectively intervening in the biological development of its future workforce.

Moreover, the program’s economic logic refutes the tired criticism that social protection is a drain on the national coffers. The integration of local retailers, including Kadiwa ng Pangulo outlets and community stores, creates a closed-loop economic multiplier. The ₱3,000 monthly credit does not vanish; it circulates, supporting the vegetable farmers of Quezon and the small merchants of Lucena.

This is an investment in human capital. The economic cost of malnutrition—estimated at ₱328 billion annually in lost productivity and healthcare expenses—far outweighs the fiscal cost of feeding the vulnerable. A stunted child is a future worker with diminished capacity; a nourished child is an asset.

The Walang Gutom Kitchen and the EBT Card signal the end of the “beggar” mentality in social aid. The Kitchen restores the communal dignity of the table; the Card restores economic agency within the market.

The challenge now lies in execution and continuity. The program must remain insulated from political patronage and strictly monitored for leakage. Still, the vision is evident. We are finally seeing a policy that understands a fundamental truth: dignity is not a luxury for the few, but a prerequisite for national progress.

There is a violence in rejection that is, strangely, merciful. A definitive no is a boundary; it is concrete, audible, and undeniable. It forces the heart to stop, turn around, and march toward healing. But there is a far more insidious ache that permeates modern romance: the love that exists entirely in the absence of an invitation.

This specific heartbreak, a peculiar sort of ache born of silence, is not a crime committed by the beloved, but a tragedy authored by the lover. It grows in the quiet spaces where consent was never granted, yet hope insists on translating absence into meaning.

We are, by nature, pattern-seeking creatures. Our minds despise a vacuum. Faced with the erratic behavior of another—a lingering glance, a moment of shared laughter, a generic kindness—we refuse to leave these moments as they are. Instead, we become desperate architects. We gather fragments and build cathedrals. Psychology dismisses this as projection; the romantic heart insists on calling it possibility.

The danger, however, rarely lies with the other person. It lives in our own emotional alchemy. We confuse attention with connection. We mistake politeness for intimacy. In doing so, we commit a quiet injustice against the object of our affection: we cease to see them as people and begin to view them as vessels for our own unfulfilled needs. We do not fall for who they are; we fall for the version we invent, filling their silences with our longing.

This illusion creates a subtle but devastating power imbalance, one rendered cruel precisely because it is invisible. One person shoulders the crushing weight of a hypothetical future, while the other walks freely, unaware they have been cast as the lead protagonist in a story they never agreed to tell.

The true tragedy of unreciprocated affection is the misreading of neutrality. When they do nothing, we assume it is patience. When they give nothing, we rename it as restraint. We ennoble their indifference to preserve the fantasy. It becomes an intimate form of self-deception, a lonely discipline of swallowing love that has nowhere to land.

And so we search for a villain, only to confront the most difficult truth: there is none. They were never cruel. They were never manipulative. They were never required to choose. They simply existed, while we carried the entire emotional weight alone.

Healing from this kind of wound requires the dismantling of the ego. It demands that we admit a painful truth: loving someone who never asked for it often reveals more about our hunger to give than about their worthiness to receive. It speaks less of their fullness and more of our emptiness.

The lesson, then, is not to harden the heart or to love with suspicion. It is to learn the difference between a love that forces a lock and a love that is welcomed home. To stop knocking on walls and mistaking silence for depth. To save devotion for the moment that truly matters—the moment someone opens the door, meets our gaze, and explicitly invites us inside.