31/10/2025
๐๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ฆ๐๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ซ ๐ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐๐ง'๐ญ ๐๐จ ๐๐จ๐ฆ๐
When the news about the long weekend reached us, every student around me was ecstatic about finally having time to rest and to catch up with their loved ones. The sky was clear that day, it was just as happy as the people around me, contrary to what I have felt. I wanted to smile, to join the small bursts of joy echoing in the hallway, but no matter how hard I tried to plaster a smile on my face, the disappointment from the message I received earlier this morning sat in a quiet corner of my heart.
โNak, dili lang sa ka mag uli karun ha? Wala mi ika-padala nga plete sa imoha, wala pud mi makaon diri.โ
I stared at it for a long time, the words sinking in slow and in heavy layers. My dorm room felt smaller after that, as if the air itself had folded inward. Everyone was busy packing, laughing, and planning their trips home. I folded nothing. I had nowhere to go but here.
My heart ached for the thought of my motherโs tired hands, my fatherโs back aching, bent over while plowing the fields all day and still unable to bring home enough pennies to feed our family, to send me home. I have thought of the empty table in front of my siblings, their churning stomachs. Being poor is such a harrowing feeling, itโs like watching the world continue to move while you stay still and stucked. It feels like running continuously despite the exhaustion and yet youโre still five steps behind. Living in poverty is a weight the world doesn't see, but you feel it pressed upon your shoulder, like a burden you couldn't put down. It is the sound of your own silence in a room full of joy, the ache of wanting to go home but knowing you cannot.
To be poor is to be in motion for all your life and yet still feel unmoving, it means paying a heavy price for your dreams.
This was mine. To dream meant to endure, To endure meant to stay even if it meant being alone, away from my family, with barely enough to fill my stomach.
I may not be able to come home this semester, my heart may sink with the weight of the sadness I carry, but my dreams are enough for me to continue. Once I graduate things will change, the tables will turn but for now the best I could do is to hold on. Life gets better.
โPasensya kaayo, anak ha. Pobre jud imong ginikanan,โ says another message from my Mother.
โOkay ra, Ma. Nakasabot ra ko. Maningkamot ko diri para sa inyo ni papa.โ
I wiped the tears that escaped my eyes with a silent promise โ our lives won't always be this way, every sacrifice will be worth it.
Someday, when I finally return home, I will bring with me more than just my diploma. I will bring the proof that all this enduring was never in vain.
LITERARY | Crizza Dablio
ILLUS | Elwynnah Gongob