Category: Nonfiction

Flowers of the Cogon Grass

Nonfiction by | October 27, 2025

The road to Maramag was hardly a journey; a siesta would be enough to wake up in Davao City. Sir Neil mistook the cogon grass flowers for sugarcane inflorescences, or perhaps it was the other way around. None could say for certain, and the driver was very eager to blur the view just to arrive home before dark.

The van hurtled. The sky loomed as a subdued canvas. All there was to see were fields of white arrows, nocked on arching green bows, ready to pierce the clouds. There were long blades, too, unsheathed from the green beyond the windows beside you.

The ghosts of the burned weeds wisped from the blazing fields. The fires declared that they were no longer welcome. They could swallow you if you entered their war. But the wet roads against hurrying wheels could tell that they were bound to be miserable.

The road’s diversions disappeared in the rain’s mirror. Mist devoured everything. The sky grew paler, and so did the windows. The cinders of the hulls that had been burning were ashen to the cold. The arrows undrew, then bowed in surrender to the storm.

The tempest’s howls continued to trouble everyone, but the hum of the van lulled its unwetted passengers not to worry—to close their eyes until the weaves and stretching weaves of concrete and steel stood in their silent greetings.

And when the street lamps’ familiar orange finally does stain the roads, you could sigh to be home and not remember a brighter orange—perhaps a flame—and refuse to recollect that you were under the same storm with the flowers of the cogon grasses. You are tired and cold from gruelingly sitting through a siesta, but forget that the lives beyond your windows were wet from wading through the storm’s undoing.

James Bryan Galagate Delgado is a fourth-year Medical Biology student at Mapúa Malayan Colleges Mindanao. He is also a fellow of the 2018 ADDU Summer Writers Workshop and the 2025 Davao Writers Workshop.

The Shark’s Liver

Nonfiction by | September 15, 2025

As early as I can remember, I haven’t been able to see very well. Even when I was sitting in the front row, the words on the board seemed to lose their form. The white chalk’s dust looked like ribbons entangled. I knew something was wrong with my eyes. Under the sun, they shone—rich brown hues resembling dark chocolate—and in their bitterness, I suffered.

Continue reading The Shark’s Liver

The Parasites Have Penises

Nonfiction by | August 25, 2025

It started the day I came to life. The man who impregnated my mother denied the blood that runs in my veins. “It’s not mine,” he said, parading his cowardice. He painted my mother as a Jezebel, a woman his mother would spit on, and hurled vicious insults our way.

It was my mother’s mother who saved us. “No honey of mine will remain unknown,” she declared. And so she named me Rich Knowledge, a name that would invite mockery and confusion, which people assumed belonged to a boy.

Continue reading The Parasites Have Penises

Usa Ka Dekada sa Thailand: Mga Bulawanong Pagtulon-an isip OFW (Ikaduhang Bahin)

Nonfiction by | February 17, 2025

Magtutudlong Pilipino
Nabantog ang Pilipinas nga maoy ikatulo sa kinadak-ang katilingban nga misultig Iningles sa tibuok kalibutan. Subay niiini, ang Filipino ug Ingles maoy opisyal nga lengguwahe sa nasod. Niadtong 2003, ang Pilipinas adunay taas nga literacy rates nga 87% ug maayong abilidad sa pagpamaba sa Inenglis. Tungod niini, gidapit ang mga Pilipino nga magtutudlo sa mga nasod nga dili makasulti og Inenglis sama sa Japan, South Korea, China, Qatar, United Arab Emirates, ug Saudi Arabia. Ug sa Southeast Asia mao ang Myanmar, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, ug Thailand. Dili pod malalis nga mihangop usab sa maong abilidad ang mga silingang nasod nga makasulti og Inenglis sama sa Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia, Brunei, ug Timor-Leste. Gidapit usab ang mga Pinoy nga magtutudlo sa nahisgotang mga nasod aron sa pagpaambit sa ilang kahibalo sa matematika, siyensiya, ug espesyal nga edukasyon.

Kadaghanan sa mga magtutudlo nga Pilipino dinhi sa Thailand anaa magtudlo sa Anuban (Pre-School), Prathom(Elementary), ug Mathayom(High School). Diyotay ra ang nagtudlo sa unibersidad tungod kay gikinahanglang adunay Master’s degree or Ph.D (Doctor of Philosophy). Dinhi sa Thailand, adunay gamayng kalainan ang ensaktong unang adlaw sa klase. Kini magdepende sa tulonghaan ug rehiyon. Kasagaran sa pampublikong tulonghaan, ang academic year magsugod tunga-tunga sa bulan sa Mayo nga dili malayo sa petsa 15 o 16. Samtang sa pribadong tulonghaan, magsugod usab sa samang panahon, kon dili mas sayo o kaha sa mosunod nga mga petsa, segun sa gisunod nga academic calendar.

Pattaya City
Sa dihang personal nakong nakahinabi ang tag-iya sa Maryvit School Pattaya, iyaha kong gipangutana kon mosugot ba ko nga motudlo og Prathom sanglit wala pay bakante ang Mathayom. Gitubag nako siya nga pang-Secondary ang akuang lisensiya. Apan abre ug andam ko nga modawat sa maong kaakohan tungod kay panarbaho man akong tumong ug katuyoan sa pag-anhi ug dili ang paglulinghayaw. Gidawat nako ang maong tahas sa walay daghang pagpangutana ug pagkusmod.

Usa pod ko ka tuig gatudlo sa Prathom 5 ug 6, diin English Conversation ang akong giatubang matag adlaw. Gitumbok niini ang pag-umol ug sa Speaking, Listening, Reading, ug Writing skills sa mga bata. Dili tiaw ang maong kasinatian sanglit kon usa pa ako ka bakero, dul-an sa 400 ka mga karnero nga akong pagabantayan. Ang matag grado nga akong gitudloan adunay taglima ka mga seksiyon diin may mga tinun-an nga mokabat sa 37 ngadto na sa 40 ang matag classroom. Apan ang nakahugyaw kay sa maong tulonghaan, gisagol ang nakriian o regular students ug nakriian piseet kun special students o special education students. Kon wala ko masayop, ang matag seksiyon adunay usa ngadto sa lima ka nakriian piseet. Bisan tuod adunay gisangon nga duha ka Thai khru o magtutudlo (usa sa matag grado), apan oras na gani sa akong pagtudlo, magsolo ko sa akong pasundayag sulod sa 50 minutos. Dili pod sa tanang higayon nga puwede nakong disturbuhon ang akong pares kay sama nako, aduna pod ni siyay laing klase nga gitudloan. Maayo nalang kon matunong ka sa oras sa imong pagtudlo ug anaa ka mismo sa classroom diin atua pod ang imong pares. Gahimo ba kaha kini og lesson plan para sa sunod semana, gacheck sa assignment sa mga bata, o kaha gacompute og grado. Makasiguro gyod ka nga naay moabiba nimo sa pagpamadlong ilabi na og motukar ang mga labad o mosugod na og salida ang mga espesyal. Miabot gyod ang panahon nga hapit nakong mohural. Tiaw mo ba ng kada adlaw magsige kog check, stamp pad sa petsa, walay kahumanan nga pagpirma sa gaakal ug gapatung-patong nga mga notebook ug libro. Lupigan pa lagi ang pinakasikat nga artista sa kadaghang pirmahunon! “Makapahulay ra gyod ta ani kon mangihi,” pasiaw pas akong mga kauban.
Continue reading Usa Ka Dekada sa Thailand: Mga Bulawanong Pagtulon-an isip OFW (Ikaduhang Bahin)

Usa Ka Dekada sa Thailand: Mga Bulawanong Pagtulon-an isip OFW (Unang Bahin)

Nonfiction by | February 3, 2025

Wala gyod nako damha nga moabot og dose ka tuig ang akong pagpangama isip usa ka Overseas Filipino Worker (OFW) sa Thailand. Abi man god nako og usa ra ko katuig dinhi ug mouli na dayon sa atua. Unsang hitaboa nga ang usa, napun-an man og laing usa, hangtod nga nahimo naman kining usa ka dekada! Tinuod gyod diay nga lahi ang planong tawhanon kon itandi sa kabubut-on sa Diyos. Alang kanako, usa kini ka matahom nga gasa gikan Kaniya ang paglahutay sa ingon ani kadugayon. Ug tungod niini, aduna koy napudyot nga mga bulawanong pagtulon-an nga ikalipay ko pag-ayo sa pagpaambit kaninyo, ilabi na sa mga nagtinguha nga mosulay sa pagpanarbaho sa Land of the Free.

Migranteng Pilipino sa Thailand
Sa akong nakalap nga impormasyon gikan sa Embahada sa Pilipinas, mokabat sa 17, 921 ang kinatibuk-ang populasyon sa mga Filipino dinhi sa Thailand. Gitaho usab sa Department of Employment of Thailand, ubos sa Ministry of Labour nga adunay 14,830 ang kasamtangang nagtrabaho nga galangkob sa pagtudlo, management, engineering, arkitektura, ug negosyo. Ug dul-an sa 4,000 ang wala marehistro o ana sa dili regular nga mga sektor, samtang ang nabilin gilangkoban sa mga tinun-an, kapikas, mga anak sa migrante, ug katong nangempleyo sa giilang mga buhatan.
Niadtong 2020 ug tunga-tunga sa 2021, gatosan pod ka mga Pilipino ang gipapauli sa atong panggamhanan tungod nawad-an man kini sa ilang panginabuhian agi sa pandemya nga nipukan sa tibuok kalibotan. Subo kaayong palandungon nga adunay koy mga suod nga higala ang napagan sa maong panghitabo. Wala sa plano ang ilang pagpauli. Bisan pa man sa maong panghitabo, mipatigbabaw gihapon ang dakong gugma sa Ginoo tungod kay liboan ka mga Pilipino, turista, mga nangindahay nga makatrabaho pagbalik o magsugod og trabaho, ang nakasulod tungod kay gipaluagan naman sa nasod ang mga tamdanan sa pagbiyahe.

Nag-Education ang Mass Comm
Nahuman nako ang kursong Mass Communication sa University of the Philippines in the Visayas Cebu College (UP Cebu na karon) niadtong Abril 25, 2002. Inay mosugod sa pagpangempleyo, nisugyot ang mahigugmaon nakong inahan nga si Nanay Fe, nga dili usa pagsugod og trabaho. Niya pa, pagdiskanso usa sanglit pila pod ka tuig ang imong pagbudlay aron maangkon ang gikaintapang diploma. Dugang pa niya, nga mintras nagrelaks usa, sulayan nako pagkuha og Certification in Professional Education (CPE). Aron mokuha sa Licensure Examination for Teachers (LET) ubos sa pagdumala sa Philippine Regulation Commission (PRC). Gawas pa, nindot kaayo ang gitanyag nga 10% lamang (kon wala ko malimot) ang bayrunon sa total tuition fee, usa sa mga benepisyo ni Nanay Fe sa iyang pagtudlo sa Western Mindanao State University – Dumingag Campus (WMSU). Tuod man, nakombiser gyod ko sa akong inahan. Gidasig pod nako akong mga suod nga higala nga silang Kuya Recar, (nahuman sa kursong Accountancy sa Mindanao State University – Marawi; nitaliwan na sa laing kalibotan niadtong 2016), ug Danna (bag-ong nigradwar sa kursong Industrial Engineering sa WMSU – Main Campus, Zamboanga City; anak pod og magtutudlo). Aron hingpit nga maangkon ang maong sertipiko, gikinahanglan nga mokuha og 18 units ug pasaron kini. Twenty-one units ang akong gikuha. Paniguro nga naa koy reserba kon ugaling magkinaunsa. Sadya ang among pag-eskuyla og balik, bisan tuod dili kini mao ang pinitik sa among tagsa-tagsa ka mga kasingkasing. Buntag ug gabii ang among pagtungha sa duha ka tulonghaan nga anaa mahimutang sa Barangay Caridad ug Barangay Dapiwak sa Dumingag, Zambonga del Sur. Uban sa grasya sa Ginoo ug makanunayong pagsuporta sa among mga pamilya, nahuman gyod mi sa among pag-eskuyla sulod lamang sa usa ka semistre.

Continue reading Usa Ka Dekada sa Thailand: Mga Bulawanong Pagtulon-an isip OFW (Unang Bahin)

Sinigang

Nonfiction by | January 20, 2025

Sinigang [Nonfiction]

The tangy, sour smell of tamarind soup filled the air as I stepped into the kitchen.

My mouth watered automatically, memories of my mother’s cooking flooding my senses. She was always so good at making Sinigang, the sourness perfectly balanced by the sweetness of the meat and vegetables. It was one of my favorite dishes, and she always seemed to know just how much sourness to add to make it perfect. As I waited for the soup to simmer, I remembered how she used to take me to school every morning. She would wake up early, even earlier than me, so she could fix breakfast and get me ready for the day. She would brush my hair, tie my shoes, and even help me with my homework sometimes.

 

It was the simple things like that which made me realize how much she truly loved me.

 

I also recalled the times when we would sit together on the porch, watching the sunset, and she would tell me stories about her childhood in their province. She would talk about the food they used to eat, like Sinigang for example. “Mao ra man ni among mapalit dapit sa kanto, nak. Mahal man gud kaayo ang pritong manok.” She shared. “Tunga pa mi ani nila nanay nimo ug tita.”. Her stories made me realize that this soup really played a part in my mother’s life and her fondness of it was later passed down to me. Aside from this, she would also share with me the games they played back then and the people they knew from their barangay. It was as if I was there with her, living those moments through her words. I wished I could go back to those days, when everything seemed so much simpler and carefree.

 

My mother always wore her favorite daster when she was at home. It was a dark blue, patterned with pink Gumamelas, and it seemed to bring out the color of her light skin. She would wear it almost every day, even when she was just cleaning or doing laundry. I never understood why she loved it so much, but it became a symbol of her to me, a part of her identity. Now that she’s gone, I find myself missing that daster almost as much as I miss her.

 

The Sinigang was finally ready, and I ladled some into a bowl. As I sat down at the table, the aroma filled the air once more. It was then that the weight of my loss finally hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness and grief, knowing that I would never be able to share another meal with my mother again. I took a bite of the Sinigang, savoring the familiar taste that reminded me so much of her. And in that moment, I felt her presence, as if she were right there beside me, telling me everything would be alright. I thought about all the things I had wanted to say to her, all the things I never got the chance to tell her. But most of all, I wished I could just have one more day with her, to hug her and tell her how much I loved her.

 

The memory of her warm, familiar embrace brought a tear to my eye, and I felt a lump form in my throat. It was then that I realized that the longing and sadness would always be a part of me, but it was also a testament to the love that we shared.

 

As I continued to eat my Sinigang, I found myself thinking about the future. I knew that I would never be able to replace my mother, but I also knew that I had to find a way to move forward. I had to find a way to honor her memory and keep her spirit alive. So, I decided that from now on, whenever I cook Sinigang, I would always dedicate it to her. It would be my way of keeping her close, of remembering the woman who had given me life and so much more.

 

And as I finished the last spoonful of soup, I knew that even though she was gone, her love and her legacy would live on, forever etched into my heart and my memories. I wiped away the tears that had begun to fall, took a deep breath, and closed my eyes, letting the warmth of her memory envelop me like a blanket. Because even though she was no longer here physically, I knew that in some way, she would always be with me.

 

I found myself thinking about my mother more and more. I would remember the sound of her laughter, the smell of her perfume, the way she would pinch my cheeks when she was happy. I began to cook Sinigang for myself more often, dedicating each pot to her memory. As I stirred the pot, I could almost feel her presence in the kitchen, teaching me her favorite recipes and sharing stories about our family. It was as if she was there with me, passing down a piece of herself in the form of this simple yet beloved dish. Slowly, over time, the pain began to subside, replaced by nostalgia and a deep sense of gratitude. I was grateful for the time we had spent together, grateful for the love she had given me, and grateful for the memories that would sustain me for the rest of my life.

 

In the end, it wasn’t the Sinigang itself that mattered so much as the love and the memories that it represented. As I cleared the table and began to wash the dishes, I felt a sense of contentment wash over me. It was as if my mother was there with me, nodding her approval, proud of the life I had built and the memories I had created.

 

And in that quiet moment, I knew that her spirit would always be a part of me, guiding me forward, one spoonful of Sinigang at a time.

 

Victory Valenciano is a 17-year-old HUMSS Learner from Ateneo de Davao Senior High School. She spends countless hours lost in the world of music, arts, and literature

Illustration by Noy Narciso

A Grandchild with Blue Eyes

Nonfiction by | December 30, 2024

I was around eight when my mom told me she wanted a grandchild with blue eyes. We were just hanging out in the backyard, sitting beside each other on a hammock, when she said, “Gusto ko ng mestizong apo!” She told me she wanted to see them in person, as blue eyes aren’t something you typically encounter in ordinary Philippine settings.

“Mestizo” is a Spanish word that originally described a person of Spanish and indigenous descent. Over time, the meaning evolved to a broader definition: a person of mixed race. In the Philippines, a mestizo is someone who is half-Filipino and half-foreigner, or, in simpler terms, a “tisoy”—someone with evident Caucasian features who is conventionally attractive.

Continue reading A Grandchild with Blue Eyes

My Father’s Motorcycle

Nonfiction by | November 18, 2024

My father got into a motorcycle accident last Friday. He was on his way to pick up my mother from school. Another motorcycle ran into him at an intersection, and he was laid flat on the side of the road with his foot stuck beneath the pedal. He went home with swollen ankles but, thankfully, without any major injuries.

My father just got a new motorcycle last June. He bought it despite our family needing the money to pay for my little brother’s hospital bills. He insisted we needed a motorcycle because, otherwise, who would pick up my mother and siblings from school? My father has been unemployed for as long as I can remember. His only “job” is to pick us all up from school or work.

Continue reading My Father’s Motorcycle