There’s something that’s been eating at me for a while now, and maybe this is just another emotional rant — but if you’ll bear with me, maybe you’ll see where I’m coming from.
We always hear it. “This is the people’s fight.” “We won this battle together.” “The nation has spoken.”
But really — has it?
Because when I look around, I don’t see people fighting these battles. I see them surviving. I see them lining up for ayuda. I see them seeking relief wherever it comes, not because of loyalty, but out of necessity. And yet, somehow, they get swept into the narrative. Suddenly, their hunger becomes a political color. Their need becomes loyalty. Their pain becomes a PR tool.
Let’s be honest: most political victories are claimed in the name of the people, but not with the people.
It’s not our win. It’s theirs.
It’s not our battle. It’s their strategy, their agenda, their campaign.
And yet when the cameras roll, it becomes "our" success. When the backlash hits, it's suddenly “our” failure too.
The people — tayo — are often colorless, and I think that’s how it should be. We should not be forced to wear red, blue, yellow, or whatever shade is trending during election season. We are not pieces on a board, waiting to be moved, only to be blamed for which side we stand on when it benefits one party or another.
But what’s worse is how, even when ordinary folks are just trying to get by — like receiving ayuda — they’re questioned, even attacked:
“Bakit nandito ka? Hindi ba’t kaalyado ka ng kabila?”
As if hunger and hardship have party lines.
As if relief and dignity are partisan privileges.
It’s disgusting.
People move towards peace, food, and even momentary comfort — not because they’re traitors or loyalists, but because they’re human. It may look like a herd running to feed, but it’s survival. It’s instinct. It’s what’s left when choice is stripped away and replaced with color-coded expectations.
And I get it. I’m not naive. I know some of this is politics. Publicity. The need to look like you stand for something bigger than yourself. I know sometimes the results do benefit the public, even if the intent is self-serving.
But still, I wish politicians had the honesty to say:
“This was our party’s fight.”
“We won this for our agenda.”
“We took this risk, and it was ours.”
Stop dragging the people into your slogans unless they were truly there, truly heard, and truly empowered.
I’m not saying the people should be silent. I’m not even saying we should stay neutral forever.
What I am saying is: we should be free — free to choose when and how we fight, what we believe in, and whether we wear a color at all.
Maybe that’s the real dream: not to be colorless forever, but to be free to paint ourselves in any color — or none — without being punished for it.
Call this a rant if you want. I know it’s one-sided, emotional, maybe even a little naive. But it’s also real.
Walang kulay ang kahirapan.
At kung meron man, sana hindi natin ito gamitin para pag-awayan kung sino ang may karapatang mabuhay ng maayos.
