Opinion

An institution's response to bullying often prioritizes reputation over student well-being. The author argues that delayed action, prompted by public outcry, reveals a misplaced focus. True zero tolerance means immediate response, not damage control after a post goes viral. Protecting students should outweigh protecting the institution's image.

A mother is like a child; likewise, a child is to a mother. My maternal instinct’s voice yelled at me to pack my bags and shut my mouth. I was only a child, a child with hope and packs of wolves that shrivel and cry under the epidemic, that is my raging sea roars.

Social media is life. Technology is life. Everyone loves a little bit of tea. We scroll, we peek, we sip the latest gossip like it’s our morning coffee. The tea gets served, and we sip it without realizing we’re feeding a cycle of exposure.

After every tremor, there’s another kind of shaking that happens—not beneath our feet but across our screens. Meme after meme, “funny” tweets, and satirical posts flood social media as if earthquakes are comedy skits and not life-threatening disasters. Some say it’s a way to ease the fear. Others say it’s just “Filipino humor”, but should calamities really be the punchline?

It’s painful to realize that sometimes, being good at something feels like a crime.

It’s press conference season again — the time when student journalists scramble to polish leads, trim excess adjectives, and pray that their headlines hit harder than their crash outs. The Schools Press Conference is supposed to be a celebration of press freedom. Yet, for an event that is made entirely for it, our articles are the first ones to be jailed in drawers.

Every year, thousands of Filipino students march into college entrance examinations carrying one thing heavier than their test permits—dreams. Dreams of becoming engineers, teachers, nurses, and public servants. Dreams of lifting their families out of poverty through education. Yet this year, more than 168,000 of those dreams were denied, not because these students failed, but because the doors of our state universities and colleges (SUCs) could no longer fit them in.

When the Jerome Sunico and JM Serdan “Siargao Curse” social media issue exploded online, within days, what began as a personal dispute morphed into a national spectacle. People, on the other hand, weren’t just discussing the accuracy of events or who should actually be held accountable. Another debate, perversely, became about who was the top and who was the bottom.

The “resiliency card” of the Filipino has been exhausted. Time and again, the people are expected to bounce back from calamity after calamity; yet resilience is not an infinite resource. This has been glorified and even romanticized how strong Filipinos are as a community.

Families? Undoubtedly unmatched. Doctors? They literally expand what can be possible! They have got to be up there. The youth? Future of tomorrow! Teachers—definitely just beside our guardians, and in such a chaotic time for our ill country, the 5th of October reminds us of the choice to remain hopeful for the good in society.

Papers remain scattered from the bedside table to the floor. Mental health could affect a huge part of our emotional, psychological, and social well-being. Study shows that our behavior often takes part from our mental state, and the lack of attention most people provide to one’s intellectual health proves a lot of this point.

I like it when a Filipino says they want to dismantle a fascist regime; I hate it when they set us up with another man-killing machine to usher in a project.

Every book I open, every page I write on, carries a cost my parents silently paid. While I sat in classrooms learning lessons, they were outside working long hours just to make sure I never ran out of paper or ink. My education was never free—it was purchased with their sweat and love.

It is infuriating that in a country where education should be the most urgent battle, some people still choose to demonize it. When Rep. Chel Diokno championed additional funding for CHED to support free higher education, it should have been celebrated as a win for every struggling student.

I once thought I was depressed because I scored 8/10 on a TikTok test. That’s when I realized how dangerous pop psychology can be. A term meant to spread awareness about mental health has started chasing fame instead of flame…….a light meant to guide those truly struggling.

The Sangguniang Kabataan (SK) has long been a lightning rod for criticism, often dismissed as ineffective, corruptible, or worse—irrelevant. And now, once again, it finds itself in the crosshairs of abolitionists, with no less than DILG Secretary Jonvic Remulla pushing for its elimination. His reasoning? Poor attendance and lack of participation among SK officials.

Every time the peso weakens against the dollar, social media fills with cheers, heart reactions, applauses, and jokes. “58 pesos to a dollar na!” some exclaim, as though it were a victory. The irony is striking. We are applauding what, in reality, is the slow and evident downfall of our own economy.

Beneath the pleas of the Filipinos, stories of the victims of the recent rally have been overpowered. Many talk about how inspirited the people finally are toward pressing against corruption, too much in fact, to the point where the acknowledgement of its flaws are lacking—and it is nothing to shrug about.

Every Filipino meal is built on the back of a farmer. Yet while the nation eats three times a day, the hands that feed us barely earn five thousand pesos after four months of labor. This is the cruelest irony of our time: the farmer starves in a country full of food.

When the framers of the 1987 Philippine Constitution placed pen to paper, their purpose was clear: never again. Never again should a nation be shackled by authoritarian rule. Never again should Filipinos be silenced, tortured, or plundered by those in power.

Respect. That’s the word Malacañang requested after thousands of Filipinos filled the streets on September 21, crying foul at corruption and remembering the horrors of Martial Law. Respect, they reminded us, as though the bigger sin was profanity—not the greed that caused ghost projects, kickbacks, and flooded cities drowning in the weight of stolen funds.

On September 21, 2025, the people marched the streets with the same powerful belief instilled in their minds—there is nothing wrong with protests; there are protests because something is wrong. However, in this era, the corrupt would be glad to have been able to fish for a chance to further submerge the abused Filipinos in the dirty water they have created.

The moment Rodrigo Duterte rose to power, he carried himself like an untouchable strongman. His so-called “war on drugs” painted itself as a solution to crime, but in reality, it was a war waged against the poorest and most vulnerable Filipinos. Thousands of lives were lost in the process, many without trial, many without justice. Looking at it now, it was not leadership at all—it was impunity laid bare.

Then-House Speaker Martin Romualdez is a title I didn’t think felt so great to call. Corruption should never be welcome in my land—our land at that. Even a speck of it causes rashes, and I especially find it rewarding to achieve such “great” feats in today’s modern world—really stretching what classifies as “great” here, not going to lie.

Who am I without my academic achievements? Who am I if I fail? Who am I without the one thing I’ve always been praised for: my intelligence? I ask myself these questions more often than I’d like to admit.

There has been a great hue and cry as recent events are becoming a “three-ring circus” in the eyes of the powerful. Their corruption, vices, and decadence ensure that every day is a carousel in the Philippines. It’ll go on a loop for and on, as the ride operators are the politicians who continue to be passive bystanders. As concerned Filipinos, we can do a lot of things—but which of those may we actually do?

September 21 is our Black Parade for it is the only way the broken, the beaten, and the damned will be remembered. And if we refuse to march, then we allow ourselves and our history to disappear without significance, like The Patient feared he would.

Faces void of misery fill the crop fields as the looming liability becomes near of reach. The recent update from January regarding the Philippines’ domestic debt reflected an amount reaching P11.08 trillion, garnering 1.41% increase from the previous year’s debt. The data inclines a huge amount that gives the citizens a responsibility to keep track of, and government units are not the only ones suffering, farmers are to be noted too.

I believe that whatever you stand for ends up getting back to you; Charlie Kirk took it to the neck, personally and literally.

Old MacDonald had a farm, and on the farm corruption sure was everywhere: corruption here, corruption there, corruption in every square meter of the archipelago. The DPWH ghost project issues are constantly on an unstable playing field, while Vice President Sara Duterte’s impeachment cases seemingly faded into obscurity.

Words truly cut deeper than any knife — sometimes they can be the bullet that ends your life.

In the Philippines, the line between entertainment and politics has long been blurred. Our history is filled with actors, singers, and television personalities crossing over into public service—sometimes with resounding success, sometimes with devastating consequences.

Sa kabila ng komportableng pag-upo nila sa mga kotseng magagarbo, lumulusong na sa baha ang kanilang kapuwa Pilipino. Lumulutang sa bawat artikulo ang kanilang pagkakakilanlan bilang mga kontratista—ngunit kontratista nga ba o ‘di hamak na “buwaya?”

Sa mga aklat ng kasaysayan na aking natunghayan, iilang pangalan lamang ang palaging lumulutang—sina Rizal, Bonifacio, Aguinaldo, at ilan pang itinuturing na bayani. Sila'y ipinagdiriwang, isinulat, at itinampok. Ngunit ano nga ba ang batayan upang maituring na karapat-dapat na maisama sa kasaysayan?

Corruption in the Philippines is like floodwater—you know it’s coming, you brace for it, and yet every time it arrives, you’re still left drowning. The latest “solution”? With President Marcos ordering lifestyle checks starting with the DPWH, the headlines once again flash a familiar promise: accountability. But here’s the real fear—like so many things in our political landscape, what if this too is just a trend?

You can’t spell opportunity without “opp” and maybe that’s our ongoing tragedy—because every opportunity carries the temptation to side with the opps, whether out of desperation or greed. Criminals from abroad took this literally: in a nation shadowed by its fiercest opponent, corruption, there would always be an opening. That’s why for fraudsters and scammers, the Philippines isn’t just a hideout—it’s a marketplace.

Billions vanish into projects on paper, while Filipinos are left to suffer—and their resilience turned into an excuse for inaction. Every monsoon season, the Philippines braces itself for flooding—not merely as nature's wrath, but as a painful reminder of broken promises and invisible progress.

Corruption in the Philippines has become so normalized that many of us barely flinch when billions of pesos are siphoned away from projects meant to save lives. But corruption is not a natural disaster—it is not a flood or an earthquake. It’s a deliberate crime by people who knowingly steal—not just money, but lives. And for crimes that cost lives, there must be a price even the richest thief cannot pay off.

Schools bustling in yellow and green hues; others are bricked with technology, and the one to call this out is the same person who made the situation worse.

For most of my life, I’ve been labeled in ways that felt like cages I could never break free from. Quiet. Shy. Weak. Too soft. Too sensitive. I was the one people could talk over in class, the one whose ideas never seemed to matter. I was the “safe” target, the harmless punchline, because I rarely fought back.

Every time I enter the classroom, ready for another day of learning, a feeling of despair and disappointment always seems to float by. Before I even take a few steps in, a door with no handle blocks my way, the smell of mold fills my lungs, and the broken windows that always let the cold creep in send shivers down my spine.

Heroes are not sacred. They are questioned, doubted, and sometimes torn apart by the very people who once revered them. And Ninoy Aquino, whose death on this day seared himself into our national conscience, is no exception.

Editorial cartoons once captured genuine emotions, clever wit, and profound insights. Now, AI tools are encroaching—swift, inexpensive, yet devoid of sentiment.

Pop groups captivate audiences through visuals and performance; editorial cartoons play a similar role in journalism. It is the main visual of the newspaper. Beyond its ability to capture attention at first glance, it is the only piece in the newspaper that can accurately deliver emotion, nuances, and genuine feelings of rage, anger, confusion, and happiness.

As the world progresses and looms into a modernized and technological slate, the use of Artificial Intelligence or AI has been rampant in weaving to the fabric of our everyday lives, becoming a tool of efficiency. From its advances towards our entertainment, to assistance in professional settings. However, the question remains: is AI a tool for enhancement or impairment?