PANDEMIC Tales High-Beam Headlights

Rivalry commenced between light and dark. Mercilessly, the darkness vied a little more. Shhh– no one can go out. Countering something immaterial is simply being a hostage of madness. Unstoppable as the tears of hopelessness, the days unfold dimly. Though the sun is always there, it is surmounted by the skies of horror, boisterously warning the heart to stay in the shade. Faint and vague… What went authoritative was the loudest silence, leaving the powerless in a tight constriction; visionless and deaf.

Vintage hues consumed the memories of old– giddy children seesawing in the Mahogany’s arms; families becoming warmer in the riverside; carefree ethnic groups dancing in their stage of grace; farmers sowing their scrumptious treasures; and students freely raising their hand to exclaim excellence. Until a day, the need to put life in the lucklessness of the abode accentuated. Happiness indeed comes when one deviates from negativity, hence, the lightest avenue of remembrance people held dear during containment. In the midst of the dark, when the light was desperately longed for, one was found. Harshly, the first thing

Jaded Nobles

Teaching is defined as a noble, if underpaid, profession. Teachers are expected to be well-rounded—bringing knowledge as they enter the classroom, being able to grasp the learners’ attention for a whole period, and ensuring that the lessons will be instilled in one’s mind. Regardless of their duties inside the classroom, they still need to accomplish different reports and meet several deadlines. Weekends are used to extend work hours rather than using these free days to rest. Suffice to say, they often are restless, always seen as jaded. But are they paid enough for the amount of work they get?

“Lahat ng sinusweldo ko, napupunta lahat sa loans, groceries, at pamasahe.” Jasmin Angie, a regular teacher, aforementioned as she talked about how her salary is just enough for the amount of bills she needs to pay monthly, leaving no room for her leisure. She also shared how she is already used to this cycle, although she needs to cut more expenses off as necessities are getting more expensive due to inflation. She added, “‘Di enough na umasa sa sahod mo lang, kailangan mo pa rin talagang dumiskarte.” that went aglow was the wounds of society, bleeding, mostly. “To be a learner is to be a perceiver. And perceiving is not limited to visual capabilities, I sense. I feel for even a minor semblance of perception” in the Pandemic’s blindfold, the student Liann Cabanda denied ignorance. “I crave for more than awareness,” said Maria Dudang, a student leader. “Production cannot be done one-time due to disposal difficulties in economic crisis, strategizing marketing crops is a must,” fought by Mr. Farmer. “I choose to open my eyes to background and character,” fought Nicole Zapanta, a wise voter. “We’ve been negatively stereotyped, oras na para lumiwanag ang B’laan,” Suzette Tejada, voicing her right of value. Myriad sectors were spectated and brightened up amidst the blackout, something that pulled change. During the national elections, candidates weren’t the ones elected– it was reformation. The government needed to move, not to wander in darkness, but to find the greatest change hiding within the chronicle of chaos. Knocking the gavel thrice, there is no dominant darkness.

From the point of view of a master teacher, Annabel Erolon stated, “from Teacher I to Teacher III, I feel like the salary I receive for just solely teaching, per se, is enough. But with the amount of paperworks we have, that is the part where I feel we are underpaid.” She, too, expressed how teachers from the Philippines should call for action from the government as Filipino teachers are underappreciated compared to other teachers across the world.

Withchapped lips fruits and vegetables hugged the ground as they were tormentingly thrown away, outstepping, yet again, the runny hope. Worst part is, the greater the food being wasted, the more their market value increases. How come a darkness this immense breed the way it is now? Humbleness warmed the native soils—pale and malnourished as the farmers—very unbecoming of a naturally-gifted fatherland. Unspoken may be it, the fact of the sprightly inflation caused such downgrade. “To tell you honestly, there wasn’t much production. My pastureland was idle. I cannot risk my health when I have only my wife to look after our nine children. Besides, risking it is of no value. I can’t get any income; money is just going out and never coming back. I don’t even know where to get funds to feed my family,” outcried by a Lumad farmer.

“There’s only work and death for people like me”— another choiceless soul. Past four a.m., when the rooster croaks, farmers rise. Beneath the searing sunlight, they hunch down to reach their barren planting beds. And on their own marks, they ask, “When will this homeland love us back... again?”