My sisters and I

Contributor: Yolanda

I would rather see myself lying in a hospital bed than seeing my little sisters suffering…

I grow up witnessing how my younger sisters learn and grow. We built a bond at home that is different from the typical ones. We have a bigger age gap that’s why they treat me more than a sister, but a second mother. I bathe them, prepare their food, assist them in eating, wash their “dedes”, tell them stories, and play with them.

But that was before I entered college. The need for me to study in a far place separated me from them. I can only go home once every two months but I always make sure that we spend quality time together.

Every time I walk to the highway and wait for a bus or van to take me back to Dumaguete, I always feel empty being away from my little playmates.

Though I’ve been staying in the city for three years now, I never experienced crying so much just because of one reason— missing them. If only it is possible, I want to see them again, to laugh with them, to sing, read and play with them. But I can do nothing but to bear with this loneliness. Every day, there’s always that emptiness in me.

But it was lessened when one afternoon I received numerous text messages from Mama and Auntie that they are in the city with my sisters. I was happy of course, for at last, I will be with them. But their purpose of coming is not good news for me. It was painful to hear that they came here to confine my two younger sisters in the hospital—one who is 2 years and 5 months old, and the other is 1 year old.

I felt so low for a moment but I immediately rushed to the hospital, leaving my work unfinished. Then, there I saw Papa, the unusual image of a father, maybe brought only by the situation.

Then he showed me the way that led to where our youngest was—emergency room. I saw two nurses putting dextrose on her hand. I can’t take the scene that’s why I never watched the process, while my other sister was in the pediatric ward, weak and pale. A nurse came nearer and injected her on the right finger to get 30 drops of blood from that portion for lab examination.

Tears then started to fall from both eyes of my sisters. Every time I see them cry, shouting because of pain, I can’t help but cry too. Pity for our two angels slowly dominated my emotion for I was not used to seeing them in that condition.

They stayed in the same room, and minute by minute, nurses and student-nurses got inside, checking their conditions. Nebulizer machines were beside their cribs, for every four hours, they need to undergo that session, since medical tests show that their blood is filled with bacteria which caused pneumonia. My other five year old sister was also there, taking care of her other sisters, sacrificing her time in going to school.

Because that chapter of our lives challenged my sisters’ strength and fighting spirit, I devoted my time serving them without attending my classes.

Everyday was a challenge for them to fight against that illness, and thank God, everyday was a process of development, slowly recovering from the pains they are suffering.

Until the 5th day, I saw their smiles again. The smiles which I missed so much, the smiles that would assure me that they’re fine, that they are in good health, and that they are happy. Finally on the 7th day, they were released from the hospital.

The time, effort and money were worth it, for it showed that the family is willing to provide everything just to make them feel that lives are important. That incident taught us a lesson; and it also gave me a chance to be with them again, even in just a short span of time.

*Yolanda is a student from the College of Arts and Sciences who hates abusive and discriminative people.

Experience, regret, change

Contributor: Insomniac

College life is a period in one’s life when great lessons are taught. It is a point in one’s life when our personal skills are enhanced by academic requirements and extra curricular activities at school. As a student, one is expected to do well, and if possible, have an excellent record as a preparation for the future.

While school equips us to be future professionals, the experiences we encounter during our college days are the best. As the saying goes, “experience is the best teacher”, and I have my own account for that.

Upon entering the pylons of this university, “to graduate” is my first goal – to graduate on time, to be exact. I made a promise to myself and put it in my mind that I must be dedicated to my studies so that I will graduate as expected. I told myself that I have to graduate and the reason: I am the only hope of my parents after my elder sister failed to finish college. This reason is my motivation.

I was pressured but I was confident then. The thought that my Nanay and Tatay would see me marching on time pushed me to be responsible and do well in school. I did all the efforts I could to my studies – staying overnight and going to far places for the sake of my major subjects, studying and memorizing nose-bleeding words for the next day quizzes, name it. More than that, I always see to it that I am already at school early and be in my class before my teacher arrives. And when class discussions start, I always raise my hand to participate. To sum it all, I am a good boy at school then.

I had a good start in my college life. However, human as we are, we fall to temptations that are bugging around in our student life. I was already in the middle year of my four year course when focus in my studies loosened up. Things twisted so rapidly. From a student with full concentration, I turned very lax on my studies.

I often sleep late during nighttime not for my studies but for some senseless reasons. As a result, being absent and being late in my classes occurred the following day. I still did my school projects, but most of the time, it was late. Because of these recklessness, my performance in my classes declined as days passed.

I was active in strolling everywhere. I went to movie houses and shopped on malls as if there was no more tomorrow – as if I was not a student. Whenever I felt like I want to be absent, I did it with no hesitations. I always shielded myself with false excuses and memorized answers every time people asked about my absences.

Things got worse. As a result, I dropped some of my subjects while I failed on some. My parents, on the other hand, were unaware of it. As far as they know, I was doing well in school. When the semester ended, I only showed my class cards with good grades to them while I hid the rest underground.

Yes, I am a good liar. I even asked money from them provided with the reason that I had projects, though in reality, I had none. I fooled them. My parents were very innocent that they kept on giving though they were already financially drained.

My conscience knocked my heart at that time but my brain perpetually pushed me to remain dishonest. Years passed and I did not tell my parents that I cannot graduate on time though I was already aware about it a long time ago. I pretended to them, as well as to my coursemates, that I can. Every time they asked me about graduation, I always told them that hopefully, there would be no problems with the advising of subjects. But the truth was: I really can’t.

Graduation came so close and I continued lying to my parents. I reasoned out to them that I was not allowed to overload some of my subjects – the reason why I cannot march on March. That was my lame reason but the real reason was: I did not apply for graduation because I am not qualified.

After my parents knew that I cannot graduate because of my fabricated reason, they acted okay though I knew that somehow, they were disappointed. Moreover, parents as they are, they still supported me without knowing that their good son had just lied to them.

Realizations did not wake up my lost self until my batch mates graduated. I saw them wearing their black togas during the graduation. I saw them wrapped with unexplainable aura of victory. And while looking at them, I silently cried as regrets and guilt flooded over me for being so idle in the past years. The pain I felt that time made me realize that what happened to me is the result of my thoughtlessness as a student. I was mad with myself as a flashback kept on to my mind asking “whys” and “what ifs”.

Life, no matter what happens, must go on. After failing to graduate last March, here I am giving myself a second chance. Regret is always at the end. This is the lesson that I painfully learned in the past years. As I close and open my eyes everyday, “to change” is the thought that cheers me. I took summer classes to cope with the years I wasted in college, and hopefully this is now my last semester in this university.

*Insomniac, 20, is a student from the College of Arts and Sciences who is known to his friends as a talented and cheerful person.