AZUL Literary Folio Tomo I Bilang 1

AZUL LITERARY FOLIO ISYU I Karapatang-ari © 2021 Ang AZUL ay ang literary folio ng LACORDAIRE, ang opisyal na pamahayagan ng mga mag-aaral ng Assumption College San Lorenzo, Higher Education Division.

Ang karapatang-ari ng bawat akda at retrato na nakalimbag dito ay mananatili lamang sa may-akda. Hindi maaaring bigyan ng pahintulot ang sino man upang muling ilathala o gamitin sa anumang paraan ang mga nilalaman nito nang walang paunang pahintulot mula sa may-akda.

Ang AZUL ay hindi ipinagbibili.

Para sa karagdagang katanungan at suhestiyon, maari itong iparating sa:

Facebook: @LacordaireAC

Instagram & Twitter: @lacordaire_ac

Email: lacordaire@assumption.edu.ph

Ang pabalat at layout ng folio ay likha at disenyo ni Trixie Nicollete Villarosa

NOBYEMBRE 2021

Sining ni Denisse Kyle Virtucio

ISYU I

Nabibihag tayo ng mga istorya ng kabayanihan. Mga salitang pumapawi sa ating kaluluwang uhaw sa kaginhawaan, sa kaligtasan. Pinupuno natin ang ating mga tiyan ng mga pangakong bulong ng tagapagligtas; mga pangako na iniwan ang sikmura na maga at walang laman. Desperadong mahupa ang sakit, pilit nating pinaniniwalaan na darating ang araw na ang kagat ng dilim ay mawawakasan, at tayo’y maisasalba at mananatiling ligtas sa mga halimaw ng gabi. Mga halimaw na nagbabagong-anyo at nagsasamantala sa maralita.

Mga ganitong istorya at salaysay, matagal na nating pinaniwalaan – hango sa kaisipan na isang mesiyas ang sasagip sa atin mula sa masalimuot na mundo at hahanguin tayo mula sa mga dambuhalang nagbabanta sa ating buhay. Matagal na rin nating pinaniwalaan na mawawala ang mga taong nagbabalat-kayo at hindi na lalapastanganin ang ating mga mahal sa buhay; na darating ang tagapagligtas at sa gayon, mararanasan natin ang pagbabagong inaasam.

Ngunit, lingid sa ating kaalaman, ang nutribun na ibinabahagi ng mga nagmamalakas – na ating tinaguriang mesiyas – ay nag-uumapaw sa kanyang kasinungalingan. Lingid sa ating kaalaman, ang ating mesiyas ay siya ring halimaw na ating gustong tibagin.

Nabibihag tayo ng mga istorya ng kabayanihan. Subalit, ang mga istoryang ito ang ginagamit ng mga halimaw upang magpanggap bilang tagapagligtas na magdadala ng pagbabago at lunas sa ating kagutuman. Kagutuman para sa kalayaan. Kagutuman para sa hustisya.

Sa huli, kukunin tayo ng oras, kasama ang mga tiwali, at ang tanging matitira ay ang ating mga salita, ang ating mga istorya.

Bagamat, tapos na ang karimlan ng gabi, nasisilayan na natin ang kariktan ng bagong umaga, at mulat na tayo sa katotohanang pilit nilang ikinukubli. Panahon na para sa oras ng muling paggising. Handa na kaming tumindig, manindigan, makibaka, at ipahayag ang katotohanan.

Ikaw ba – handa ka na?

Sa unang isyu ng AZUL, nagngangalang MULAT, minumulat natin ang ating mga mata sa katotohanan at sa mga kuwentong kay tagal nang hindi binibigyang pansin, at kinikilala natin ang ating tungkulin upang ipasa ito sa iba.

DENISSE KYLE A. VIRTUCIO Punong Patnugot

MENSAHE NG PUNONG PATNUGOT

i

ANO ANG “MULAT” ?

ii

MULAT Gwyneth Lanuza

1

Hindi Nakukuha sa Maikling Saplot ang Pahintulot Anya Aleya Miranda

4

KUBLI Imma Marie Reyes

5

Good Girl Mary Hannah Morales

8

Dunong Julia Elah Espinosa

9

These Four Walls Ma. Alejandra Solocio

12

Pledge Alliance Andrei Michaela Corre

13

Eh Kasi Sabi Niya Cyril Cabrera

16

Sining ni Denisse Kyle Virtucio

I Stopped Watching Romantic Movies Andrei Michaela Corre

17

Kailan Lalaya?

Cyril Cabrera

20

An Open Letter To The Ones Called “Sayang” Addie Beatrice Cuadra

22

The Solemnity of Y(Our) World Denise Ventura

23

Red Room Gwyneth Lanuza

25

Magandang Umaga Turista Ram Valencia

27

The Owner of Thyself Tisha Jeremie Sotingco

29

Lucid Chestene Ysadel De Guzman

31

A Dose For A Happily Ever After Kristel Reign Nucum

33

White Lady Andrea Ferrer

35

Babae sa Hapag Guiamie Lingatong

36

Sining ni Denisse Kyle Virtucio

Sining ni Trixie Nicollete Villarosa

ANO ANG MULAT? Ilan sa mga kasingkahulugan ng salitang Mulat ay ang pagbubukas ng mata o ang pagbubukas ng isipan. Sa ganong paraan, ang temang “Mulat” ay naglalayong palaganapin sa pamamagitan ng samu’t saring akda at sining ng mga Assumptionistang makata ang dunong ukol sa kasalukuyang estado ng bansa patungkol sa katarungan at karapatang pangkababaihan.

Ang bawa’t letra at saknong na nailathala dito ay inia-alay para sa hustisya, at para sa masa.

1

Tagu-taguan palubog na ang buwan!

Lumakad ng deretso at huwag magsalita May nagmamasid sa paligid mo; Tumayo, Tumakbo, Matuto. Maging mapanuri sa dinaraanan mo Bawat hakbang, bawat hinga; kapalit ay bigong pangako Mga anghel na umaawit ng sirang harana; BATA! Imulat mo ang iyong mga mata Ang tunay na tagapag dala ng unos ay iyong Walang malay sa estado ng nasa baba

4

“Saan ka pupunta Maria at bakit ganyan ang iyong suot?” sambit ng aking ama’t inang mula ulo hanggang paa, tingin ay nanunuyod. Kabisado ko na ang susunod na linya sa litanya nilang ‘yan…“Iba na ang panahon ngayon anak, iba na ang sitwasyon.” Hindi ko na lamang pinahaba pa’t ako’y tumalikod at nagpalit na. Ngunit ‘di ko maiwasang maisip, “Kailan kaya ako magiging masaya, komportable at malaya?”

Limang taon na ang nakalipas at ngayo’y ako’y bente na. Siguro naman ay maaari ko nang isuot ang mga nakakaginhawa at magagandang damit na noo’y ipinagbabawal nila ama.

“Anak mabuti na ang nag-iingat kaysa magsisi sa huli at magpakita ng balat,” wika ng ama.

Ako’y bigo pa rin pala kahit na sa ganitong edad. Ngunit kailan ama? Simula kailan ko pa naging responsibilidad ang kontrolin ang pagnanasa ng iba? Tama nga kayo ni ina. Talagang iba na nga ang panahon ngayon. Sapagkat mas karapat-dapat ng igalang ang mga matang may bahid ng malisya ang pagtingin kaysa sa mga pangkaraniwang katawang binabalot ng mga normal at magandang pang kasuotan kung ating titimbangin. Mahirap at masakit man din aminin, subalit pananamit na ang basehan sa kung papaano ka itatrato at irerespeto ng lipunan.

Ngayon ay isang pamilyar na bestida na may katamtamang haba hanggang tuhod ang aking isinuot. Walang balak pumukaw ng atensyon at malagay sa delikadong sitwasyon. Ngunit bagama’t walang palya ang aking pagsunod sa mga tagubilin nila ama, ‘di ko pa rin naiwasan ang ilang daang hipo, sipol at titig na akin paring natamo sa aking paglabas. Naglipana na ang mga halimaw na hugis tao—wala nang pinipili, wala nang sinasanto. Lahat ng pagkakataon ay kanilang handang samantalahin, sapagkat walang edad, estado o titulo ang makapipigil sa pagsalakay ng taong may balak mang-abuso. Sa panahon ngayon, kahit gaano ka pa kasigurado sa mga taong iyong pinagkakatiwalaan, kapag tawag ng laman ay kanilang tinugunan, karumaldumal ang iyong sasapitin at kahihinatnan.

Kailan ba matatanto ng lipunan na ‘di kailanman sukatan ang ikli o haba ng kasuotan sa respetong dapat iparamdam? Na hindi sa uri ng kasuotan, kagandahan, oras ng paglabas o hugis ng katawan nagmumula ang karahasan, kundi sa mga matang mahalay ang tingin, sa mga bibig na walang paggalang kung sumutsot at sa mga kamay at kilos na tila’y hindi kilala ang salitang pahintulot!

Mali ang tingin at iginuhit ng lipunan tungkol sa kababaihan! Ang pagiging tao at babae ng mga kababaihan tulad ko ay sapat ng rason para igalang! Babae Ako, Hindi Babae Lang! Hindi kami laruan na pwedeng mong hipuan o ulam na puwe-pwedeng mong tikman kahit kailan at kahit saan! Hindi kami utusan na pwede ninyo lamang dikta-diktahan dahil kung meron mang dapat magbago ay hindi ang aming pananamit, kundi ang inyong mga kahalayan at sakit sa pag-iisip.

Kailan mauubos ang takot ng bawat babaeng umuuwi mag-isa? Kailan matatapos ang patayan at pagdurusa? Hanggang kailan paiiralin at hahayaan ang patuloy na paglaganap ng mapang-abuso at nakadidiring mentalidad patungo sa mga kababaihan?

Ako si Maria Magdalena, babaeng anak ng aking ama’t ina na nagsasabing hindi ko kailanman naging kasalanan ang pambabastos ng iba sa aking suot at katawan. Sapagkat kung ikli lang ng saplot ang usapan, bakit pati ang aking nakababatang kapatid na si Maria Clara na dapat ay 15 taong gulang na ngayon at balot na balot ang pananamit sa paborito nyang mga bestidang gaya ng suot ko ngayon ay hindi rin nakaligtas sa karahasan at kahalayan ng kalalakihan?

5

A-Ba-Ka-Da. Ito ang marka ng ating simula Kamangha-manghang isipin, hindi ba?

Sa kung paanong ang konting pagpapalit ng pantig Ay kayang baguhin, mga salitang iminumutawi’t dinidinig Ma-ki-ba-ka. Libo-libong hinaing nakakulong sa apat na pantig.

Sa iba’y deklarasyon nang pagtatangi sa kanyang Bayang iniibig Sa nakaupo’y kalapastanganan ng mga ilusyonadong mangmang Sapat upang hatulang lungga ng mga komunista ng mga mapanglamang Ang mga paaralang humuhubog sa mga Kinabuksan ng Bayan Apat, Lima, Anim. Anim na buwang pangako’y umabot na ng anim na taong kalbaryo.

Kabataan nang Ngayo’y tumitindig, humulagpos sa halimuyak ng pangakong “pagbabago” Kung ang pagkitil sa buhay ay hustiya, matatawag nga ba itong katarungan?

O isa lamang bang paglilinlang, matanghal lang na wagi sa giyera para sa kapangyarihan?

Pito, Walo, Siyam. Siyam-puno’t dulo nitong tagu-taguan.

Kung sino nga ba sya’y di ko rin alam Ngunit sa nalalapit na pagtatapos ng larong ito, May bagong taya kayang magtuturo?

O tayo’y muling uulit sa bilang ng isa, dalawa, tatlo Sa dinami-dami ng mga manlalaro Sino nga ba ang totoo sa dagat ng mga mapagbalat-kayo?

Sa mga kampo na sa nagdaa’y ating pinili, Sino nga ba ang tunay na huwad at nagkukubli?

8

GOOD GIRL

Mary Hannah Morales

“Be a good girl,” said her mother after she grabbed Nena to stand still in her satin light pink dress. She breaks away from her mother's grip and asks “Why?... I want to play.” Suddenly, she feels her mother’s hand tighten her grip on her arm and says, “Don’t ask. Just follow.”

“What is a good girl?” she wondered. Her grandmother taught her a good girl is the girl whose tongue is purity coated, actions are obedient, and adorns herself with clothing that covers her struggles. When Nena was confronted with conflict, she was told to turn the cheek and be a good girl. She was given clothes to cover her; she was taught exposing her skin would cause men to stumble. An added promise was if she covers up, no one will try to touch her.

Uncle Ed saw Nena frowning one day and told her, “Good girls smile all the time.” As a good girl, she’s expected to be happy all the time! Instead of her rage over the conflicting messages she’s taught, she’s disciplined to smile and look simple. Not too much makeup! You don’t want to be suggestive. Her urges of sexual awakening are labeled as a forbidden monster bound to condemn her in its clutches. She struggles as she confronts this in each moment of weakness lingers a ghost of shame.

On the other hand, the men are permitted to sow their wild oats to their heart's content. She asked a father of son “Would you get mad if your son had a child out of wedlock at a young age?” The father replied that he would be proud of his son and ashamed of the girl he impregnated because she allowed herself to give in to her urges! When the good girl grows up and marries, she has to be the submissive wife no matter the struggle or toxicity or abuse!

She’s submissive to her elders whose patriarchal values govern the society she lives in.

The good girl is taught she can do anything and when she aspires to achieve the impossible.

The phrase "Babae ka lang" is a weapon used to undermine her competency, skills, and strength. Boys preach to girls on their periods that getting kicked in the balls hurts more than her menstrual cramps and the pangs of childbirth. Who endures through childbirth for the children of this earth? Every girl with a uterus whose periods are met with societal shame when her jeans are bloodstained on a heavy day.

Nena trusts the people in her life knowing she’s a good girl no one would want to try to abuse.

Isn’t that one of the promises of being the good girl she’s raised to be? To Nena’s surprise, a man steps out of line in her presence attempting to invade not solely her personal space with not a single sense of responsibility that she’s a minor. After the incident, she feels disgusted with herself as though it was her fault. How could that be? Isn’t she responsible for other men’s actions around her? Be a good girl, Nena.

She went to an all-girls establishment and for once she didn’t have the ringing alarm in the back of her mind telling her to be on guard for a predator nearby. Nena didn’t worry about not having her legs crossed. She was not conscious of men catcalling from the windows as she walked through the hallways. As she climbed up the stairs, there was no man looking up the stairwell as she climbed to get a glimpse of her underwear. Nena was not responsible for other men’s thoughts or actions. Nena is not not responsible for other men’s thoughts or actions.

To Society: Are you sure it is the girls who need to be good?

9

Muling matuto at aralin kung paano, basagin ang iyong pagiging kalmado.

Huwag mo ng paniwalaan ang katotohanan dahil tama lamang na nakagapos ang ‘yong puso’t isipan. hindi na dapat pang sandalan ang mabulaklaking salita, patayin ang umaalab na pithaya at kalimutan ang natitirang pag-asa. Huwag mo sanang pigilan ang sarili sa pagkalulong, silaban gamit ang panggatong ng hinubog mong dunong ang natutulog mong talangka at pagkatapos hilain sila pababa. Ibaon sa lupa ng may awit at pagsinta. Hindi mo na kailangang piliing maging masaya. Ipikit lamang ang ‘yong mga mata, magpalunod sa agos ng kaba. Kailangan mo lang ay ang yakap ng pagkatalo. Dahil hindi na bago ang katotohanan…Ika’y mabibigo. Kaya’t kumalas ka sa bisig ng kamalayan. Nagkakamali ka kung iniisip mong sa pagkawasak ika’y mututo. Huwag mo ng layuan ang malamig na kuwadrado na kung tawagin ay preso. Tandaang sa tinig ng pagkabalisa natatagpuan ang mga napagiwanan. Lisanin na ang lungga ng mga pusong pinangakuan. Sapagkat hindi sa paghimlay nakakamtan ang ginhawa ng kapayapaan, sa pakikipaglaban sa guni-guning nais takasan. Totoong sa ngayon, hindi pa oras ng pagsuko….sa puntong ito. Dahil sa katunayan, nasanay na ang aking mga paa sa takbo ng mundo…

Hindi man magbago, ang lahat ay pagkukunwari….

Saglit, tigil, hinto!

Muling magtiwala at Imulat ang mga mata Panahon na upang baliktarin ang sumpa.

Everyday I wake up inside these four walls Tall, far, and within reach; They make me feel nothing but small.

If these walls could talk, they’d say, “Do as you’re told.”

For its structures are built upon expectations going as far as centuries old Inside these four walls serve as a reminder of where a woman’s place should be A place that screams, “You will never be free!”

Even when I was in my mother’s womb I could already feel my life’s impending doom Before I could open my eyes, stretch my arms, or stand on my feet The size of my hips, the length of my legs, and the rest of my body already have standards to meet Is this what life has in store for me?

If so, I beg to disagree.

Growing up, choices have been laid out for me All I have to do is not to disagree From adolescence to womanhood, everything feels like a chore Trapped and suffocated within these four walls that doesn’t have any door Robbed, I wonder what’s left of me Will my pain and suffering even stop to a certain degree?

In my own house, I am a woman bound to tradition Surrounded by elders whom I always have to ask for permission To cook, clean, and care are the things I always do Stuck in an endless cycle, wishing I have something else to look forward to Someday, within the walls of my house, someone will hear my plea The road to freedom, something the world can guarantee In the classroom, there seems to be no room for ambition Where everything always has to be a competition I am told there’s no room for me to excel That men are the ones who always do well This, I refuse to believe For I know, I have more to achieve.

In the workplace, I am told to just smile and accept I ask myself, if a slave is all I’ll ever be as I wept They say I am too bossy, demanding and not fit to lead That a man is someone they need They have yet to see that I am more than just a woman Capable and competent just like any other man.

In society, they always have a lot of things to say I’m too emotional, needy, and that I should just stay away For centuries, women like me have endured its sting As if bad luck is all we bring Everywhere I go, these four walls seem to follow me To be free is the one I long to feel and see.

Then one day, it is not the same anymore Hope fills my every vein unlike before Echoes for help are now being heard The world hears and promises their word Cracks and small debris start to fall down Maybe these four walls can be, after all this time, broken down.

Time passes and I no longer wake up inside these four walls Gone were the days when they made me feel small If these walls could talk, I would be met with total silence My thoughts, my actions, and my passions in life are no longer silenced These Four Walls have trapped me and those before me But now I no longer worry for I am free.

12

13

Grant me witnessing all ‘round I go Let me be uncomfortable In my sadness In my spite In my veins our ancestors’ strife Their oppression chiseled in depths Of my subconscious—mayn’t I forget In my every privileged sigh In every nightmare’s death And all of my trivial achievement That their blood inks this gazette That my soul echoes their last breath For justice—mayn’t I Move idly and yield To transient relief To false gods To defeatism That my heart numbs To the cries of my people To the destruction of our homes To the monarchy of traitors Let me hear it everywhere I go Let me be uncomfortable

16

“Bakit ayaw mo suotin yung binili natin damit?” ani ng aking kaibigan. Ngumiti ako at hinarap siya, “Eh kasi sabi niya.”

“Tara alis tayo libre ko!” ani ng aking kaibigan. “Nako hindi ako pwede, bawi ako next time” ani ko. “Bakit naman?” aniya. Ngumiti ako at tinignan siya, “Eh kasi sabi niya.”

“Huy! Birthday ko na bukas! Saan tayo?” ani ng aking kaibigan. “Pasensya na hindi ako makakapunta ha, pero eto regalo ko sayo.” Kinuha niya ang aking regalo at tinanong ako, “Bakit hindi ka pupunta?” Ngumiti ako at niyakap siya, “Eh kasi sabi niya.”

“Uy! Nakapasa tayo sa dream school natin! Mag-enroll na tayo ah!” ani ng aking kaibigan. “Baka hindi na ko dyan tumuloy pero pupuntahan kita lagi.” Naging seryoso ang kanyang mukha at padabog na kinuha ang balikat ko, “Kasi ano? Kasi sabi niya?”

Ngumiti ako at hinawakan ang kamay niya, “Pasensya na.”

17

I realized meet cutes are to keep the movie’s pacing tolerable and—when you can’t purposefully bump into someone with a six-meter distance—unrealistic. Or when you can’t even afford the strength to unfold your sheets to prepare for that inciting incident.

There is not even a knight on his stunning white horse eloping you to his estate, none of the perfect teeth, and wits working tremendously as his taut muscles. I no longer buy the spontaneous getaway, enthralled with another human being.

Lounging on our preloved sofa, counting dreams, feasting on salted egg and tomatoes, toasting with 3-in-1 soup and instant noodles, singing along every soap opera theme song—the love story I favor is the one I share with him.

I stopped watching romantic movies when he was taken away and only cockroaches invite themselves to the space he emptied. The cityscape makes our roofs droop low and the stars invisible; I feel even more alone, tucking in a twenty for the next jeepney ride, hoping I’d get to see him a little longer today. Certainly, I prefer our reality when I break my bones ‘til midnight, enduring long lines and traffic jams, every time I hoarse my throat to uphold his name.

None of the whole zoo in my stomach, but a lioness growling ferociously in grit. A relieved sigh that happens at happy endings seems so slow to arrive as I stare at the plastic jar of five and ten peso coins a quarter full.

When I can finally bring him home cooked meals, a pillow for cushion against cold prison floors, he weeps when he sees my bony cheeks, pushing half of his food to me, tells me not to lose any sleep. I smile contritely, knowing I will lose even more just so they would set him free. A sooner vision occurs to me that behind the cityscape, in our humble bungalow, we’ll watch romantic movies again. #FreePoliticalPrisoners #ActivismNotTerrorism

20

Lalabas ng balot na balot Buong katawan ay puno na ng saplot Ngunit takot pa rin ang nanunuot Dahil sa pangbabastos na inaabot Suotan man natin ay parang manang Tela man ay kinulang Mga mata nila ay kumikinang At hindi igagalang “Babae ang laging may kasalanan” Iyan lagi ang sinasabi ng mamamayan Bakit hindi ang iba ang buntungan?

Ang pangbabastos ay hindi naman ginusto ng kababaihan Babae, limang letra Pero ang daming pagsubok na kinakaya Hindi alam kung kailan lalaya Sa mundo na puno ng husga

22

An open letter to the ones who were told “sayang” Addie Beatrice Cuadra

Both men and women are perceived to have different roles in society. Through the years, people across all genders have broken stereotypes to prove that anyone can do whatever they want because they can, not because they’re expected to do so. Yes, people change, but how about those who’ve grown older and have decided to stay footloose and fancy free?

Isn’t it irritating to attend a family gathering and get repeatedly asked by your whimsically behaved relatives when you’re getting married and receive negative responses along with the expression, “Sayang.”.

Most of the time, you’d feel unbothered from staying eligible; but it just strikes when you’re told you’re told “Sayang” because of the path you chose to take. I know it enkindles that self doubt and gets you in a state of worry. Why do people always have to question if you choose to do things out of the ordinary? “Sayang”, because you don’t want to have kids?

“Sayang”, because you remain on the shelf despite getting old? Aren’t we allowed to age with dignity and grace on our own?

In a world where everyone is free to express themselves in their own different ways, how do we deal with bleakness and indifference? While we continue to do our best to reach our goals, the irony is that people around us will also continue to criticize the things we do and our choices in life.

With all the issues we continue to face today, I hope we become more sensitive, prejudice-free, and respectful as long as no one is jeopardizing other people. Referencing 21st Century Girls by BTS, allow the lyrics to pierce through your hearts as women: be more confident to live our lives the way we want to because we’re strong, capable, and enough.

By happy chance, being able to express ourselves without restraint and things alike should bring us all together and create a more encouraging and embracing environment for everyone. Wouldn’t it be nice if we all say good things as much as other people would say the opposite?

To the ones called “Sayang,” please know that you’re not because your expected role in the society is not what’s supposed to control and decisively affect your choices and your future. You’re more than just that. It’s about time we break free from the benchmarks of society.

23

In their eyes, I’m still but a cub. A babe that chooses to be curious but never overanalyze the important details. A bird that still knew not to fly because of fear that once it leaped, it was an impending doom to its death.

“You aren’t old enough to know, hija.”

These were the same words said to me, differently phrased by different people on different occasions.

At a very young age, I was taught and fed with the mindset that women knew nothing of what type of reality shifts outside the comforts of our own home, or wherever we feel most familiar with. Even as I reached the legal age of 18, elders and relatives of mine alike continue to belittle the “knowledge” they perceive that I am only limited to.

I reached the limits to know and to seek out opportunities that can please those who are watching my every move, which greatly costed my own mentality for a pursuit I previously thought was meaningful. But to no avail, the “standard” in their eyes is one that I myself am not able to comprehend progressing towards when it’s a tide that continuously changes to their own whims.

“You don’t know what it is like to be an adult.”

It’s tiring to be conscious of the pairs of eyes collectively looking down on you, knowing that no matter the decent action you commit yourself to, it will always end in harsh criticisms and disappointing gazes. The pressure would oftentimes turn into a boorish sensation, a feeling that I constantly have to release for the sake of keeping myself steady and sane.

“You’re still naive, and you always have been.”

They see me as something fragile, regarded as someone weak and in constant need of protection and assistance to everything that she encounters.

“You will never survive the real world in this state.”

This, I used to think so, too, and I still do.

It’s almost impossible to live off an easygoing life after entering adulthood. Entering an unknown territory that you have been taught to live and supposedly thrive in isn’t as easy as it sounds in the first few tries. Though I’ve heeded the same warning from those who went through the very same dilemma, the overwhelming onset of it all never fails to make me feel so bothered even when I’ve done everything and prepared myself with enough caution. It felt as if I was thrown into ocean waters without a lifeguard or anything that could support my breathing, and I kept drowning and fighting for air.

Not only am I burdened by the responsibilities I’m expected to immediately fulfill, I can still feel the added weight on my shoulders every time I come across yet another problem that not only affects my way of living, but for those I surrounded myself with.

More so in a country filled with corruption, there are still many who refuse to exist within the same reality. The exploitation of the masses, the ongoing manipulation done by the higher-ups, and the constant need for the people to remain “resilient” even in a time where proper governance and transparency are needed yet become a scarcity that continues to be sought out for.

It’s a misfortunate reality that not everyone accepts, blinded by materialistic necessities,

influential figures, and personal gains so selfish it dries out every bit of land from its very rightful owners.

The unfairness of it all is often masked with sick humor, unnecessary even at times when a proper authority is required to express genuine concern and urgency at the people’s time of need. The epiphany that people, especially that women have to endure and experience is grotesque and an imbalance so noticeable that it still transpires to this day, an injustice that is at the expense of deep-rooted patriarchy.

But why would I, a woman in her early twenties, complain when I have reaped the profits of the former opportunities that I worked hard and tirelessly for, mostly to gratify those who deemed themselves are above me and bore deep and unquestioned aggression towards the notion that women cannot take more than what they can give?

Women are always expected to symbolize perfection, while men are easily validated by their flaws in the eyes of society. These imperfections are twisted to a narrative only beneficial towards the latter and not the former.

And as a woman who constantly lives under society’s judgment and criticisms, I intend to remain unshakable and steadfast towards my personal goals without feeling any restraints. There will come a period where people, especially women of all ages, will no longer dread the disorder that continues to seep through society.

In this world full of chaos, we are vessels driven by a strong will to nullify the poison that accumulates in the crevices of a bounded demeanor created by mankind.

25

“Isa, Dalawa, Tatlo… Baka pwede namang ngumiti ka pa ng konti iha?” Tito Marlon, mama’s boorishly behaved brother uttered, seemingly unimpressed by my innate lack of expression to which I only grinned at as a response.

“Antayin mo lang at ih-handa ko na kaagad yung litrato mo. Andyan yung telepono ko; I-text mo na ang mama mo at mapapagabi ka ng uwi. Ako pa malilint— Nakikinig ka ba?”

“Ano po yun tito?”

“Kako andyan yung telepono ko. I-text mo mama mo at baka ako pa ang mapagalitan.” This time I was sure; he was very aggravated by how inattentive I was being. “Ay opo. Maraming salamat po.”

“Janina Dela Cruz found dead: Court slams down case for lack of ‘evidence’ ”I instantly went numb as the screams of Athena's daughters echoed through me. Another woman decorated the headlines—nauseating.

“Oh, sabi ko mag text k— ayos ka lang?”

“Opo tito. Nakakapangamba lang ho talaga ngayon.”

“Kaya ikaw ay mag i-ingat ha? Huwag kang pakakatiwala kung kanino. O sige, halika dito at tulungan mo ako sa mga litrato mo. Hinanda ko talaga yung Red Room para sayo. Alam ko naman na paborito mo mag process ng film pictures.”

Upon entering, we were greeted by harsh red lights that completely illuminated the studio. Ironically, this place serves to be my own haven; despite the seemingly hellish attributes.

“May kukunin lang ako pero pwede mo na simulang asikasuhin ang litrato mo. Andon sa dulo yung mga hindi pa naka-babad. Andyan yung developer sa gilid.”

It was only a matter of seconds after Tito Marlon’s departure when my brain ecstatically mapped out all the ways by which I would play around with my photographs; hang them?

As I tried to adjust my eyesight from the harsh lighting and attempted to search for the canister of undeveloped film, I accidentally peeled a hanging image from the wall. Checking to see if I tampered with any of it, I gasped in horror from what I saw.

Images of Janina’s lifeless naked body decorated the wall alongside a few other women whose deaths were sensationalized– a mother, a student, and Janina, an activist. As if to coerce me into the entire abyss of hopelessness, at the foot of the

table laid an open notebook filled with erratic scribbles of names, a red marker across each.

“Diyos ko.” Stumbling back, I sprinted towards the door desperately calling unto every saint that I know of.

“Oh, akala ko mag d-develop pa tayo.” Tito Marlon appeared at the doorway, arms stretched wide as if to put me in a welcoming embrace. I stood there frozen, not inching one bit.

“Eto yung paborito ko sa studio na to. Lalo na pag nadadagdagan.” He looked me straight in the eye, ripping off the kraft envelope he held, as he continued on. “Kabataan talaga ngayon. Napaka bulag sa totoong estado ng buhay. Masyado kayong maingay, nakakasuka. Nakakabingi. Ang sarap ninyong patahimikin.”

The envelope revealed my photos he took of me. Without removing the grin that was spread across his face, he stuck my photo below Janina’s. “Maingay. Maingay. Maingay. Masyado kayo maraming pinaglalaban. Eto ang tatandaan mo. Pribilehiyo ang pera. Hindi relihiyon, hindi hustisya.”

Suddenly everything was clear to me; This is what it truly feels like to be hopeless. Those of my own kin attuned to their own barbaric needs; I’m not safe. I was never safe.

27

Magandang umaga, turista! Maligayang pagdating sa aming bayan, ako si Ram ang inyong Tour guide sa araw na ito,

Halina’t maglilibot tayo sa napakagandang lugar na ito. Unang destinasyon. Sa lugar na puro magagaling at perpekto, na pag nagkamali ka ay huhusgahan ka, panigurado! Talak doon, talak dito na parang utang mo ang buhay mo dahil lamang isa isang pagkakamali mo ngunit pag nakagawa ka ng tama ay mananahimik ang mga ito. Pilit ang pag pikit dahil ang kanilang mga mata ay nakamulat lang pag ikaw ay nagkasala, Oh souvenir para paulit ulit ipapaalala na nagkamali ka, gusto niyo ba?

Pangalawang destinasyon. Sa lugar na pag napaglaruan ka ay patay ka. Na kung saan ang mga naturingang may kapangyarihan ang papatay sa iyong kinabukasan. Kung kabataan ang pag asa ng bayan ay bakit kabataan ang pinag iinitan, paano na ang kinabukasan? Dito ay hindi ko nirerekomenda ang paglipas ng gabi dahil tulad ng nasa mga pelikula , ang demonyo ay sa kabilugan ng buwan nagpapakita. Mam iihi ka ba? Mag ingat ka! Baka madaplisan ka ng bala.

Pangatlong destinasyon. Sa lugar na puro mayayamang mamamayan, LV, Chanel, Lacoste, at Apple ang hawak pero puro utang lang naman, nalulunod na sa listahan ng kautangan pero masaya pa sa kagagawan, na parang ang pera ay iniiri lamang, pag siningil mo naman ay parang ikaw pa ang may kasalanan. Dito ay kung hindi ka maka-

kasabay sa uso ay laman ka ng usapan, na parang kasalanan ang isipin ang para sa kinabukasan.

Gutom na ba kayo? Walang pagkain dito sa lugar na ito, sa lugar na uunahin ang kagamitan kesa sa sariling kapakanan para masabi ng iba na “ang yaman mo naman”

Pang apat na destinasyon. Sa lugar na puno ng droga, nanlilisik at namumula ang mga mata na akala mo’y may sore eyes pero may tinira pala, mga matang galit pero nagmamakaawa ng tulong ngunit walang malapitan dahil ang gobyerno ay hindi ka kayang ipaglaban at peperahan ka lamang, mga magagaling manlinlang, kalidad pang mahirap pero presyong pang mayaman, teka ma’am sir huwag po tayo lumapit at baka pagbintangan kang gumagamit.

Pang-limang destinasyon. Sa lugar ng puro mag nanakaw na akala mo’y kaibigan pero inuunti ang iyong ipon at kagamitang pinaghirapan. Lugar ng mga walang takot sa Diyos at sa batas pero pag nahuli ay nag mamaang-maangan na parang isang inosenteng nilalang. Akala mo kung sinong kabaitan. Mamser, gamit po ay inyong ingatan, pag may nawala po, ang kumpanya namin ay walang kinalaman.

Pang-anim na destinasyon. Sa lugar na ibang-iba, lugar na akala mo’y lugar ng banyaga dahil sa paulit ulit na pagtalikod sa sariling bansa, lugar na sinusuka ang sariling dugo at kaluluwa at pinipilit yakapin ang mga gawang banyaga, lu-

gar ng mga nagrereklamo sa paglubog ng bayan ngunit suporta mula sakanila ay hindi matagpuan.

Takpan na lamang po ninyo ang inyong ilong, dahil sa lugar na ito ay may amoy na masahol pa sa isdang tulad ng galunggong,

ako sa magulong mundong ito, kasama ako sa madadamot, sakim at may ugaling mabaho, kasama ako sa paglubog ng bayan na ito at kasama ako sa tutulong sa pag unlad nito. Paalam, at sana kayo ay may natutunan, o nabuksan manlang ang inyong isipan tungo sa bayan na nangangailangan. Muli ako si Ram Valencia, salamat sa

Pang-pitong destinasyon. Teka teka, pau- pagpunta. manhin po mga kasama at sa pang pitong destinasyong ay di tayo makakapunta. Lalaktawan natin ang pang pito dahil Sa tindi ng trapiko, ubos ang oras niyo. At tila ba walang pake ang gobyerno. Na parang ang apat na oras na nakaipit sa trapiko araw araw ay hindi perwisyo. Hindi po natin deserve na umalis ng alas cinco para makarating ng alas nueve sa trabaho o kahit anong destinasyon nyo, kaya paumanhin po’ng muli at tara.. sa destinasyong pang-walo.

Sa lugar kung saan kinukulong ang mga magnanakaw maliban sa pulitiko. Kulungan ng mga walang pambayad sa piyansa at mga napag bintangan ng sala ng iba. Ito ang kulungan na kakampi ng mga pulitikong magnanakaw na naka uniporme at nagagawa pang ngumiti sa camera dahil ang bangko nila’y puno na. Kaban ng bayan ay unti unting binabawasan para sa sariling libangan at kaginhawahan, nagagawa pang husgahan ang mga mamamayang nagpondo ng kanilang ninanakawan.

Eto na, ang huling destinasyon. Sa lugar ng kahirapan. Lugar na nag aagawan sa kakarampot na barya ang mamamayan. Na ang baon mo sa isang araw ay pang gastos nila sa isang buwan. Lugar na mapapabuling kang, “Ang swerte ko naman.”. Pero dito mo matatagpuan ang tunay na kasiyahan. Kahit lamunin na ng kahirapan ay nagagawa paring tawanan ang pinag dadaanan, maski ang pamilya ay hinding hindi kinakalimutan, umuusbong parin ang tunay na pag mamahalan.

Ang bayan na nakagapos dahil hawak ng maramot na pamahalaan, ang bayan na tulong ay lubos na kailangan, kamay ng mapagkakatiwalaan ang inaasam. Mamser, ito ho ang aming bayan. Oo, aming bayan. Kasama ako. Kasama

29

Mansplained. Disposable and a trophy that’s meant for display, that’s what he sees in me.

The alarm went off. Sheila's eyes opened and her mouth began to form a smile as her long awaited day arrived. It is officially her first day as a financial analyst in her dream company, Nexit, Inc. She entered the office of Ms. Clarence and greeted her a ‘good morning’ but Ms. Clarence only peeked at Sheila and went straight back to the papers she’s holding. Sheila was a bit surprised by the cold treatment but still responded with a “Yes, Ma’am.” Her colleagues greeted her warm welcome to the team and warned her that their boss is definitely strict and does not like employees not doing their job right.

I got a job at the company I dreamed of but was greeted with a cold and strict boss with colleagues that are quite distant as well; she thought as she re-runs the scenario of the whole day through her head.

But wait, the day is not over yet. Sheila’s on the way to the airport to meet the guy she loved and constantly longed for, Steve. To celebrate his return, Sheila and Steve went to dinner.

“So, how’s life so far?” Sheila asked him.

“It was great. I was able to persuade one of the biggest companies in Japan to invest in my company.” He answered. From then on, he continued to talk about himself and how he was able to persuade the company to invest. He did not even bother to ask Sheila how she was doing. She was a bit disappointed about his behavior but took it as he was just so excited about catching up with her about all his endeavors the past two years.

Monday arrived and she thought positively that it’ll all work out this week. As she entered the office it was colder than usual and Ms. Clarence

was standing beside our desks. When she saw Sheila, she started looking mad and called out to her, “Ms. Moss, can you give us the honor in explaining this mess you’ve made? No matter how much work you have, you finish it on time with no mistakes. You were accepted here so show you deserve the spot because if you can’t do your job properly you might as well leave.”

After Ms. Clarence said a handful of harsh remarks, she went back to her office. She tried to learn and accept both her mistake and the criticism she received. She has always been that clumsy introvert, but with her positivity and patience, she has achieved so much. But now, she starts to question her capabilities and it seems the 20 year old girl full of passion and positivity is starting to fade.

As soon as she arrived home, she texted her boyfriend that she is so stressed from work but Steve replied to her with, “You’ll be fine, it just happens. Just brush it off. You should handle the situation professionally. My work is more stressful. I have this investor that is giving me a hard time to reach an agreement. So I’ll talk to you later”, he replied.

The week went on, overloaded with work.

Then the weekend came, “IT’S SATURDAY!” she screamed as she woke up hoping that this weekend will take away her work stress. Sheila told Steve that they’ll do their date night at home.

So before sunset, she ordered food and waited for him to arrive. After an hour, he arrived with her favorite flowers. “Wow, it’s so nice of you,” she replied with a laugh as he entered.

While they were eating dinner, she was talking about the stressful events at work; but he just nodded and stared at his phone. “Hmmm,” he said.

“Will you please just stop staring at your phone and listen to what I am talking about?”, she said angrily. Then Steve’s face changed which terrified her. He yelled, “Well, you know what? Maybe you should just quit since you can’t seem to handle anything at work properly. You are so emotional when the things that happened to you are simple matters. So if you can’t work like that, quit. Just stay at home and do the dishes or something.” Silence surrounds the room and they stared at each other for a minute. She could have scolded him off more but she was just tired.

"Leave."

She sat down at the side of her bed and cried. She realized he was no longer the boy she loved, he changed. He was so supportive and brought out the confidence in her. Yet, he let himself be consumed by the prejudice of the world to women; emotional and should be at home tending to their loved ones needs.

On another weekend, in a café while in line she witnessed a guy talking harshly to his girlfriend. Just as things were about to get serious, the lady in front of her stepped up and said to the man, “You can’t treat the lady like that, you jerk!” Then the lady faced the girlfriend and told her, “Cut things off with this guy. A woman is not to be treated with such disrespect and it’s a waste of time. You must think it’s still all about love but you will know soon enough that it’ll turn to abuse and you’re the only one that'll be in the dead end, dear.” Sheila was amazed by the lady.

She was oozing girl crush vibes, she thought. But as that lady turned around she was shocked when she saw the lady in front of her was her boss, Ms. Clarence.

They sat down together and she praised her boss for what she did. Ms. Clarence disregarded her praise and added, “She deserves someone better. And, she must not tolerate men like that.

A woman should know her worth. All of us are strong and capable of making our own choices.

Men say we are weak because we are emotional and that we are made to be housewives. But, they are wrong, being emotional makes us stronger and our decisions wiser. And we can be a wife and a mother yet still be the career-driven women we are. I may be biased as a woman but we are mostly deprived of feeling confident of ourselves and what we can do. So, we are amazing, Sheila.''

Ms. Clarence and Sheila laughed.

Before they parted ways, she thanked her boss for everything today and Ms. Clarence said with a smile, “I push you at work because I see great potential but you don’t embrace it fully. I wish you the best and see you at work tomorrow. ” She did not tell her boss her problem but that conversation led her to realize something that she forgot a long time ago. She was once may be introverted but she was never a weak girl, and definitely would not let a man treat her like she is just a trophy meant to be displayed in his home. She had dreams that she alone had achieved.

But she had forgotten; she too, like her boyfriend, almost let herself be consumed by the prejudices of the world of a woman. When she should not let others benefit from her and act like they can control her life; that she is just a weak and emotional woman who cannot have a career and just rely on a man. I am the owner of myself and am capable of being the best, definitely not a person to be treated like some sort of trophy that is just pleasant to look at or brag about by some man.

31

Emerged from oblivion bathed in crimson Cheeks tinged with ripe peach freshness and youthful wonder Gift, treasure, priceless blessing! Fearless, feisty, audacious girl.

Everybody loved you, everybody hated you, a force of nature Not borne of another man’s rib or another man’s ire But of a woman’s gentle caress and tenderness Mystic creation glistening through your veins, enveloping your being, You walked over the valley of shadow and death and gave life Silverdust, pixie dust, love and lust, You were the dream, and still are.

You yearned to be untouchable, So why do they tell you to give in?

You staked a claim on the world, So why do they tell you to yield?

You once thought the blood-and-flesh men were wise and invincible With their battered chests and salt-licked wounds and spoils of war Gifted you an old box, with weary-wrought hands It’s covered in roses, blood, and rawness; it is too much, they are too muchIt says to be spilt over the sink like stale coffee mornings To grace ears with freshly-fallen golden harps And it spits acid at flowers who aren’t like boughs that weaken or snap.

Candlelight in the ink-painted caves is tempting to snuff out; Endless darkness is all it has known.

But like our mothers and grandmothers and the ones before them, They burned the box spilling bittersweet ivy death and call it a curse Shielded you with clouds and titanium thread meant for fleece-skinned, champagne-blooded girls And crowned you in silk-woven resolve, with a silent but powerful promise To the bridges they burn, we mend in solidarity.

We avenge our ruination, through compassion and peace!

You yearned to be untouchable, So why do they tell you to give in?

You staked a claim on the world, So why do they tell you to yield?

Alas, this is merely the beginning Perpetual asphalt plains greet your first steps and your last And you work an 8-to-5 that nobody pays you for The game of mirrors that determines one’s worth, costs a soul Still you try, until you crack.

You wished to be one of the candlewick people Deity-like beings who ruled the stars and the streets, But names and lives taint the confidence of solitude you once held.

You find your limbs tangled beneath the street lights and think, there is still the ‘morrow.

The weekend drips down the windowpane in icy mint, Homegrown tales blooming from grapevines is everyone’s fruit of choice, Especially in luminous amber-silk moons You consume it all the same, until Sobriety went and took over.

SHE said: Why fear the flavor of blood and the silk quicksand on your floor?

You live to bleed galaxies and dark matter, Not to remain in the trench of soft-shelled egos.

Polished prisms hide futilely in silt, So don’t fear the vat of putrid green that aches to melt down God-carved gold Nor half-baked pies on cellophane countertops either; (Unfair, unfair, unfair! Scale-tippers must pay.)

It was bound to happen, because you dared to overcome yourself.

Your time is not meant for lukewarm days and fair-weathered fellows That give memories barely the breadth of a centimeter; Your soul is not meant to be branded by tongues molded in the bittersweet rust of Time, and half-eaten cores pulsing in resigned acceptance Your ego is not made for copper consolation and raw resolve In the pursuit of unadulterated purpose Your steps aren’t shaped in stationary anchors Because the moment you grasped silver in coal was the time the bleak unknown was yours.

Take the wheel, as its rightful Creator!

You are untouchable, Why should you give in?

You own the world, Why should you yield?

You ARE the unattainable dream and glory, Why should you surrender?

Gift, treasure, priceless blessing Fearless, feisty, audacious girl Heaven on earth, chaos in its making Blood, life, twilight, star bright, such is the essence seraphim are made of Your existence ruptures the atmosphere and makes shadows tremble beneath your feet The sight you see is your birthright With a blade forged in determination, wary steel graces the bare ground, (As wrought and weary as the men through many a sober twilight) As you engrave the path yourself.

33

Once upon a time, I loved the bright sunlight from the sun and the shine of the stars at night. I thought of infinity - infinite possibilities for a life that I always dreamed of, a status that I desire, and everything that I have created in my mind. I thought I was a princess and my life was a fairytale, after all, I was a kid. Everything seemed to go smoothly with the magic of my dreams. But, the world is different, life is difficult, and I was cruel to myself.

People would say that I could do better, I could be better. Appreciations came less and less.

Being compared to others makes me feel worse. Reality sucks but those are stories of almost every person.

Little did I know, it was just the beginning. The beginning of me getting lost in the depths of the ocean, the beginning of me being deviated from what I really wanted, and the beginning of me trying hard to fit in the society I thought I belonged to.

I was starting to live similar to how people do. I started carrying myself as what others wanted me to be. I started seeing myself seeing myself the way others see me. My mind kept on insisting those are necessary and with the craving for acceptance and fear of being left out, I did not refuse. I was not living, I was just merely existing. Existing in a way that I started liking what others prefer, hating what they dislike, desiring the material things, talking about anything and anyone we can talk about positively or negatively. All these were my concerns and at one moment, I stopped. I was not laughing with all of my heart. I was not savoring every moment of my life, I was not living.

At those times, I was not being me, just an illusion of me that was getting harder through time. Being judged by the way you look is normal, being befriended based on the number of friends you have is normal, being treated nicely based on expensive and luxurious things you have is normal. Well, it is pretty obvious to believe and to go with those stereotypes because everyone's doing it.

Walking and wandering around every single day, I knew I was wrong but I never admitted it because I was ashamed of myself. Yes, I’m ashamed of and to myself. What did my entire being do for me to neglect and to make an illusion of what I am not? Why did I receive those unkind treatments from me? Why was I ungrateful? Why was I vulnerable?

Why was I ignorant of the things that I am and I can? What’s there in me not to like? What’s there not to love deeply?

Approval, acceptance, appreciation. These things would make anyone do anything to achieve. I was an “anyone,” too. But, I asked myself, “From whom?” and my mind talked back and said, “I don’t know.” My heart interrupted and made me realize,

“The only approval you need is from yourself.” And I was lost, I just cried myself out. It took me many years, it took me a lot of opportunities. The times that I existed to please everyone else, I should have used those to grow and glow.

Today, with a wide smile and with a passionate heart, I gaze in the mirror and appreciate myself. I am beautiful, I love myself. I am what I am. I will be better for myself. I am not a princess nor a queen. I am a woman of confidence and resilience. And here I am, writing this story of my life, reminding you that loving yourself is important. At times, if you think no one appreciates you, don’t forget to appreciate and commend yourself. Don’t think lowly of yourself. Seek approval from yourself. Bear in mind to appreciate other people even and especially at the tiniest matters. Always look yourself in the mirror, embrace your entirety, smile that reaches your ears, a hand gesture of fighting, and a simple “it is okay, you will be fine” will make up your dose of self-love for your happily ever after.

The End.

35

“Teka, tama na! Nakikiliti ako!”

“Saglit, hindi na ako makahinga! Hahaha! Grabe ka!”

“Aaah! Ayoko na, hahaha!”

Rinig ng White Lady ang pagtawa ng mga kasamang multo habang nag-aabang ng bagong tatakutin. Wala kasing taong dumaraan kaya nagkulitan na lang ang dalawa.

Pinanood niya ang mga ito. Sa tuwing tutusukin ng lalaking multo ang tagiliran ng kapwa multo, natatawa ito kahit hindi niya gusto. Parang hindi nito mapigilan ang epekto ng kiliti.

Sa kung anong dahilan, itinulak na lang ng kapwa multo ang lalaki mula sa kinauupuan nito at kumaripas ng takbo. Agad itong hinanap ng White Lady nang biglang marinig ang pamilyar na boses na nagpahinto sa kanya.

Ang Kapre.

Nang bigkasin ng Kapre ang kanyang ngalan, isang alaalang pilit na binubura ang bumalik sa kanya. Naririnig niya ang sariling boses:

“Teka, tama na!”

“Hindi na ako makahinga! Parang awa mo na!”

“Ayoko na! Tulong, tulungan niyo 'ko”

36

Mag aalasais na. Ang ingay na nagmumula sa telebisyon nabuo ng tila pangungusap sa isip. Mamamahayag: “Isa si Habiba Sarabi sa kababaihan na tumakas sa kamay ng mga Taliban, nagpakadalubhasang doktor upang tumulong sa kapwa Afghanistan.”

Wari pamilyar na ideya sa isa sa mga sipi kong nabasa-

“Ang bias na saklaw ng media na kadalasang nakatuon sa pagpapaganda. Ay! sa wakas ipinakitang tila ibat-ibang larangan sa hapag na dala ng kababaihan”...

Pagkaraa’y binasag ng katahimikan ang aking ulira’t ng lumagpak ang pinggan... dinala ako nito sa realidad at sa nakabibinging bulyaw ni Itay- --Ayan na nga lang gagawin mo di mo pa magawa ng mahusay, Maria!!! Sabay hithit at buga ng nakakasulasok na sigarilyo.

Isang tinig ang naguudyok sakin na sabihin “Saan lang ba nararapat ang kababaihan sa kusina?!”

Tikom ang bibig ko pero batid ko na ang apat na sulok ng tahanan na ito ay waring patriyarkal na lipunan...

Denisse Kyle A. Virtucio Punong Patnugot

Claire Justine J. Sarria Pangalawang Patnugot

Kristel Reign B. Nucum Tagapamahalang Patnugot

Imma Marie F. Reyes Patnugot ng Balita

Chestene Ysadel M. De Guzman Patnugot ng Lathalain

Mary Hannah P.B Morales Patnugot ng Opinyon

Gwyneth I. Lanuza Patnugot ng Pampanitikan

Trixie Nicollete N. Villarosa Tagapamahala ng Layout