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.

Best Wishes

Contributor: Purple

“No joke would sound laughable once you’ve heard it already. So why let the same pain hurt you more than twice?”

I was awakened by the beep of my cell phone. I was speechless. The forwarded message struck me. Staring at the ceiling, I cannot help but reminisce the past and compare it with the present, wondering who is better and more suited to be with me in the future.

Would I choose to be with the past? Or should I face a new beginning with a new guy?

April was a disgusting month for me. I had to live my life the way I did before. I broke up with the one I chose to be with for almost nine months and now I have to face the world on my own.

In those nine months, I experienced being appreciated and loved the way I deserved to be loved by the person whom my heart is still shouting for. I admit that I had been so dumb those months. I did what I wanted to do and did not care about what he would feel if I did something awful to him. I thought that even if I will hurt him as many times as I can, he would not leave me and he would still love me despite my insensitivity.

Of course I love him, it is just that I am not an expressive person so instead of proving to him that I care for him and cherish him, I did the contrary. I kept on hurting him, physically and emotionally; slapping and accusing him of things he did not do. Despite this, he was still grateful to have me and it seemed like these crazy things I did were the fuel of our relationship. And that is why, some would refer him as “battered husband”.

After we broke up, I realized that I really love him and I cannot face tomorrow without him. The nine months I spent with him was full of great and unforgettable memories–– the laughter we shared together, as well as the tears when we parted.

I felt like I was as wrong as a fish who decided that he can live out of water. I know all the ‘ifs’ in the world could not change things now. He already has a new life and so do I.

Thinking about all these, I considered that there are a lot of girls around. Negros Oriental State University is filled with beautiful and charming ladies—much better than me. So I’d rather forget my feelings for him and move on with my life, a life free from boys and relationships. I shrugged my shoulders and say, “It’s just love, and if girls are all around us, cute guys are also there—somewhere out there.”

As I was starting my new life, I met a guy; a smart and attractive guy with a sense of humor. He was not an ordinary guy for me because he is both a joker and a serious person. I do not know how he did it but he is strange and I have never met someone like him before. His strangeness makes him different from others.
Our friendship started with a text. After receiving and sending a couple of SMS, a deep feeling grew between us. Certainly, of all the guys who have shown interest in me before, he was the best.

But I am sure that what I feel is still not love and I still did not forget my erstwhile lover.

For now, I am in the process of forgetting my ex boyfriend because I already found someone though I do not think the new one could give me the unconditional love just like my past lover did before. But every time I and this guy were together, he makes me feel happy and forget all those pressure rushing after me.

However, one thing changed everything. My former love asked for a second chance and told me that he wants to be with me again. I believe everyone deserves second chances, but I don’t think he can stand the pain again.

So, should I choose the past? Or should I choose a new life with a new man? Would things never happen the same way twice? Well, I’ve got it all figured out now. May the best man win!

*Purple is a student from the College of Business and Accountancy.

The world needs dentists

Contributor: Jezel Oyog

At the moment of decision-making on what course I should take, I came to a picture of what the world really needs. Nurses? Not really. When I looked around, nurses are everywhere. How about engineers? I supposed not. Buildings and infrastructures are sprouting these days that is why, I believe that the world has plenty of engineers.

I am not saying though that we no longer need nurses because I am aware that in this sick world inhabited by millions of ill people, the word ‘care’ is always in demand. Moreover, I am not saying also that additional engineers are no longer needed because I know that in this fast-changing world with modern-conscious society, the word ‘innovation’ is invading. What I am trying to say is that there are already plenty of people who are having these professions, and there are other professions which remain small in their respective flock.

I tried to look around. I tried to think of professions that seem to be very few. I taught of DENTISTS. Yes, DENTISTRY. I noticed that we seldom see dentists in the community. I noticed that there are only few of them. DENTISTRY. A profession that only “one-in-a-hundred” would choose, yet, “hundreds-in-one” when it comes to demand. Yes, there are hundreds of patients to one dentist.

That is why, I thought that the world needs dentists and so I opted to take up the course. I believe that someday, I’ll be an answer to that need of the world.

According to some researches, the demands for public dental care have increased annually. The three factors responsible for this situation are greater affluence, better education, and increased population growth. [The response to the demand for increased dental care has been an increase in the number of patients handled by dentists.] In any case, the nation’s need for dental care will not only be maintained but will probably be increased, thus suggesting an “attractive future for most prospective members of the dental profession”. It has been said that the approximate ratio of a dentist per number of patients is “1:150,000”.

Many fellow students asked whether it is really our dream to become dentists someday or we are just awed by someone’s authority to choose dentistry as our career. Of course, one would never choose something he never dreamed to be. And dreams would never turn into reality without the desire to fulfill it.

When we came to the portals of this university, we opened the windows of our minds to the relevance of the new course offered – the “Doctor of Dental Medicine (DDM)”. The question, “Why study dentistry?” have once penetrated into our cerebrum and have stayed there for several moments. Yet, our doubts and confusions ended when we came to know the real meaning of DENTISTRY.

Dentistry is a profession dealing with the prevention, diagnosis, and treatment of oral diseases and disorders, “with primary emphasis on the health of teeth and gums”. In a sense, dentistry is a “medical subspecialty”. People with bad-looking teeth could mean many things. For me, it is suggestive of psychological problems like fear, anxiety, and indifference. It could be an indication of gross poverty and misery. Lack of dental services with affordable cost or lack of giving importance to good oral health could both lead to “lack of self-esteem”. Good oral health is critical to human psychological and physical well-being since the state of the teeth affects speech and expression, also, systematic diseases frequently manifest themselves in the oral cavity.
Another reason which encourages us to become dentists is the promising tomorrow that it gives, if given the chance to be one.

There are many active local dentists in the country. Most of them are in private practice with the remainder working as salaried professionals. Those in private practice, 80 percent are general practitioners who are contributing to the improvement of their communities’ health standards and are rewarded by having favorable working conditions and ample financial remuneration. Many dentists hold positions as commissioned officers in the armed forces. Others are employed by the Veterans Administration and in public health dentistry at the national and local level. There are also several full and part time teachers, administrators, and investigators in universities and in dental research laboratories.

As one of the seven pioneering DDM students in this university, I hope that our infant department (Department of Dental Medicine under the College of Nursing, Dentistry, Pharmacy, and Allied Health Sciences) be nurtured so that it will grow productively through the continuous cultivation of the university administrators and as well, of our mentors.

To my fellow DDM students, heavy loads are now put on our shoulders and never let these loads of challenges push us down. No matter how heavy it may be, let us carry it up to the finish line. Let us make this university harvest seven healthy fruits out of seven young seedlings.

If science can prove its Law on Conservation of Mass, wherein the mass of reactants is also the mass of the products, we can also prove it in real life. We, as the seven reactants in this experimental quest for knowledge, are challenged to grow tall and strong to reach the heights of competitive standards, so that six years from now, NORSU will be proud to reap seven dentists at its garden of excellent cultivation.

Yes, the world needs dentists and we will be the answer to that. To be a “nurse of the mouth” and an “engineer of the teeth” is something great.

*The contributor, Jezel Oyog, is a first year Doctor of Dental Medicine student of the university.

P.U.K.

Contributor: Orange

“You would really wish somebody has invented a time machine for you to undo it all.”

The cellphone beeped for the second time. Sweat came out of my hands as I continued pushing the buttons. For the third time, I took a deep breath, tried to recall something from my mind and began pressing the keypads’ numbers. The last beep and the words that flashed on the screen horrified me from head to toe as I closed my eyes and wished I never touched it. I wished I never pressed those buttons and never helped a friend in the first place.

Everything happened last summer on a small bakery in our town. Because boredom almost killed me that season, I decided to apply for a summer job together with my sister and best friend in a bakeshop. Being already known by the employees and having established the friend-to-friend relationship already (since we were also able to work there the other summer), we were able to adjust quickly to the environment and serve the costumers with smiling faces.

I was even more privileged to be taught on how to push buttons on the cash box and to be entrusted with amounts regarding the sales for the day. My colleague at work even relied on me with her cellphone loading business—a sideline activity she does to help her family earn a living.

Every time she went out to follow-up the orders and supplies, I was left in the bakery to take over. I served the costumers, received the payment and returned the change, washed the dishes, mopped the floor, and of course, reloaded cellphones as what has been instructed to me. Busy weekday afternoons made me dizzy in my routine so when a vacant baker came in, he assisted me with the rest of the task. However, when the production for the day has not been sold, I managed to grab a nap for a few minutes or help the bakers mold doughs and pies. It was a tiring job but every time I received my pay for the week, all the pains and brawls remained in my head as I realized those experiences cannot be learned within the four walls of the classroom.

One brisk weekday morning, my workmate who happened to be a mother already, told me that she had to go out for awhile to check on something about the upcoming delivery of goods.
“Feel free to get my phone from the cabinet if ever a costumer needs load,” she said.

I agreed to stay with the rest of the bakers who began to serve costumers. I tarried on the counter, feeling responsible for the entry of cash as more and more consumers approached to buy breads and pastries.

Suddenly, one of the bakers in his late thirties approached me and asked for help regarding his dilemma about his sister. Guess what, he needed a cellular phone to contact her. According to him, his sister was coming to visit; since it was her first time in the place, he had to stay in touch with her. Lucklessly, he left his phone at home and he needed information from her sister impromptu. Checking on my phone balance, I discovered I got no load. I couldn’t help him.

The best option we got was to use my colleague’s phone. A text won’t damage anything, I thought as I grabbed the gadget. I turned it on since she forgot that it has been turned off before she went out.

I looked at the concerned face of the baker as we found out that the phone was guarded by a pin code. I tried not to continue exploring the code but he observed me anxiously. I hate to see someone crestfallen because of me, so I did my best to think of the most possible code and pinned it.

First attempt: I failed as the screen flashed “code error”.

I scratched my head, wiped my running sweat and attempted to enter the code she used in her retailing sim.

Second attempt: “code error”.

I remembered her name. Maybe, that’s the code. I pressed the buttons once again and crossed my fingers for what might happen next.

Third attempt: “code error”.

My face twitched in disappointment. I could not think of any other possible codes. I tried again, hoping it’s the one.

However, my heart began to race relentlessly when the words “sim blocked” blinked on the screen. My eyes widened as I recalled my classmates murmur about their blocked sim cards.

Because I have not experienced the same in my phone before, I was unsure if I have read the right words on the screen. I turned it off, optimistic that when I turn it on again, the “sim blocked” warning on the screen would disappear. Although I already realized that it could not be retrieved, I still turned it on and off. My heart pounded like drums on a street parade as I sat down and released the phone.

The baker wondered why I stopped and has even managed to ask me if the message has already been sent to his sister. I never answered and instead, glanced at him in disgust for the first time. I wanted to storm out of the bakery at that moment and never come back.

Minutes of hopelessness stare consumed me. I decided to tell the truth and be ready to accept the consequences of my irresponsibility.

Smiling, my colleague entered the bakery, and introduced her little boy. I greeted back as she shied away but my heartbeat was intolerable and my mouth itched with guilt. I swallowed all my pride and even my soul and began to talk softly. She was watching me with sparkling eyes ready to listen to what I was going to say. I, on the other hand, could not look at her straight in the eyes. Step by step, I told her what happened and what I did to retrieve it. The time I saw her raise an eyebrow, I felt like I turned short in her presence. The commotion began when I said that her sim has been blocked.

Thousands of “I’m sorry” came out of my mouth afterwards but she seemed not to care. She began to pound the table and curse. I could not move my head and look at the people observing us from the outside. Torrid sweats came out from the pores of my body. I felt like I was melting faster than butter. I wanted to be gone in a snap of a finger. But I couldn’t.

She continued to curse and walk around in circles as I stiffened in my place, muted. Tears began to edge but I didn’t want them to fall because it would be more embarrassing.

Moments after her violent reaction, we talked. I apologized again and again. She just nodded. As the conversation transpired, we agreed that I’d pay the remaining load and disregard the sim since it’s impossible to be reused unless the PUK code would be found. She had to give up all the contact numbers inside it.

After my father knew what happened, he quickly paid the debt and told me that I had to pay him of what he had spent, which meant that I had to get it from my earnings. I couldn’t imagine all my efforts and hard work vanish into thin air and would just go to the payment of the load. But I couldn’t do anything about it. It has happened and it couldn’t be undone.

Luckily, the Globe Telecommunications Network said that the load from the blocked sim can still be retrieved by transferring it to another deactivated sim card. I bought a new sim and via computer, the load was transferred and sold again. So my money was returned to me.

My workmate and I are friends now and I have already moved out from the job after summer. The day I blocked her sim was the day I tried to save a life, and at the same time, ruined another.

*Orange is Bachelor of Elementary Education (major in Preschool) student of this university who loves writing.

Thirty minutes

Contributor: Mister M

This is how the 30 minutes of my life changed me into a better person.

It was one rainy afternoon; I went out of the premises of the university to meet my sister. We were supposed to meet at 5:00 but at 5:30, she informed me thru a text message that she cannot make it on time and that we will meet at 6:00 instead. Since I had nothing else to do and I was tired to go back inside the university, I decided to go to Ninoy Aquino Freedom Park. “After all, thirty minutes isn’t that long,” I thought.

As I sat down under a huge tree along the pathway of the park, I began texting the contacts in my phonebook – after all, I availed of the unlimited text promo of Touch Mobile (TM) at that time. There was a high level of excitement as I started texting. It has been more than two months since the last time I reloaded my cellular phone. After exhausting my fingers sending messages to all the Globe and TM subscribers in my phonebook, I anticipated a lot of replies—I was gone for a long time, so I thought that gives justice to my anticipation.

But what happened was quite the contrary. To my frustration, I only received five responses, and what frustrated me more was that three of those persons only responded a bold “Hu u?” Ouch! That was painful and insulting, right?

After that, I didn’t bother reintroducing myself to them. I realized that people interpreted my long absence differently. They thought that I changed my sim card, or maybe they thought I never existed at all. Whatever their reasons may be, I was hurt.

I checked the time. I realized that I still have to wait for 20 more minutes. That’s when I placed my cellphone inside my pocket and focused my attention to a group of youngsters chatting from afar. At first, I thought they were only playing but as I stared closely at them, I realized that the children were not playing. In just a wink of an eye, one of the children started running. Then, the rest of the group chased and cornered him. The poor child abruptly removed his bag and clenched his fists. Yes, he was aware of the next scene and he was prepared for it.

He picked one opponent. But just when he was about to release his valiant punch, his bigger opponent’s kick landed on his stomach first. It ended the poor child’s valor. He knelt on the grass gasping for breath. The kick badly hurt him and he wept while he was down on his knees. Then, the rest of the little goons also flew away.

The poor child was left alone. There were many college students around but nobody dared to help him. But after a couple of minutes, the child recovered and looked for his playmates despite what they did to him.

Before I was able to observe what’s next for the poor child, a group of athletes jogging at the park grabbed my attention. It was an ordinary exercise at first glance, but as I paid more attention, I realized that it wasn’t. They were led by their coach. I didn’t know how many times they planned to jog in the entire park; all I saw was that the poor coach was not aware that some of his students were deceiving him. While their coach was religiously enjoying the jog, some of his students at the back were taking a short cut so they could finish one turn faster. None from the group noticed this scheme until their third round. When one of the joggers turned his head, alas, the scheme was revealed before his very eyes.

He immediately reported his co-members’ cunning act. And that’s when the coach witnessed his three students taking the short cut. Being outsmarted by his students, the angry coach immediately ordered the three students to give a couple of push-ups as a punishment. After that, the rest of the students laughed over what happened to their co-athletes who couldn’t move a muscle after serving their punishment. The coach also laughed in disbelief that he was outsmarted by his students. Then, they continued jogging and the coach chose to be the last person so he could man his students properly.

Seeing those occurrences, I realized that I missed those simplicities of life. It woke me up to the reality that life is as simple as children changing moods, or even as simple as how the coach made me realized that I have been soaking myself in various works lately that I even forgot how to smile truly—without hiding anything.

And now I’m thankful that I spent that thirty minutes of my time at the park for it led me to a realization that life is simple. It’s only us who are making it complicated.

Sometimes, believing that we are not the shallow type of person, we dig deeper for the things that can make us happy. As a result, we overlook those simple things which, if we examine closely, are our real source of happiness. It’s just a matter of laughing over corny jokes or being contented with our simple life that we see the beauty of life. It may be shallow but it’s genuine.
At six o’clock, I found myself sitting again, not at the park but at the burger stand chatting with my sister. I also found myself laughing out loud as I told my sister the story of how I spent the happiest thirty minutes of my life at the park.

And that’s how this simple story ends.

*Mister M is a graduating student from the College of Arts and Sciences. He is a self-proclaimed artist.

Confessions of a dreamer

Contributor: Master Drunker Dreamer

Like any other human being in this side of the universe, I also have dreams and goals in life that I want to achieve. And my greatest dream is simple – to finish college.

Years ago, I was not the same person that I am now. Though I was already a dreamer that time, I used to think that the dream of finishing college would only remain a dream forever. Or perhaps, my dreams at that stage of my life were covered with nicotine residues and alcohol hangovers – which I have to scrape first in order for my dreams to come true. I was a bad boy then and I didn’t take my dreams seriously. It was because of a very practical reason that I used to think before – nobody could send me to college, hence, my dream would never become a reality.

During those times, finishing college was very impossible and what I could only do was to keep on dreaming, dreaming again, and dreaming once more.

Every time those dreams cross my mind, I would always ask myself why God gave me a difficult life. During drinking sessions with my barkadas, I would sometimes ask them why God is so unfair that he took away my mother and father. And my barkadas would just reply, “I-shot rana brod!”

That was my life then. I was able to escape from the realities of life through hard liquors and smoke. I was able to condition my mind that my dreams would always be dreams.

Until that morning came…

That morning, I found my self sleeping beside the despicable waste I vomitted outside my grandmother’s bungalow. I remembered that I was too drunk that morning. When I stood up to drink some water, I noticed my Lola looking at me intently. I did not mind it at first. Then, after drinking water, I sat on the bamboo bench under the mango tree.

Moments passed and my hangover was gone. After a while, my Lola sat beside me and talked to me seriously.

“Do you really want to live that way for the rest of your life?” my Lola asked. Those words from her seemed to awaken my dreams again. It took almost a minute before I was able to answer and the only word that came out from my mouth was “NO”.

Lola held my hand and started telling her plans for me. According to her, she wanted me to go to college but since she and my Lolo could not afford the financial obligations, they asked help from my aunts (the sisters of my father). She revealed that they talked about it already and that I was very lucky because they are willing to help despite the fact that they too have small incomes.

Hearing those words from the mouth of my beloved Lola, I saw the world smiling at me for the first time. I realized that I am still lucky. It was only then that I realized that I am loved – the feeling that I’ve been longing for a long time.

Here I am now – changed. I am now on my way of achieving my dreams. Enrolling in this university is my first step to achieve my greatest dream – finishing college. Enrolling here is already an achievement for me.

Since my grandparents cannot send me to school, I am currently staying at my aunt’s house here in Dumaguete City so that I can go to school everyday. And staying with them has changed me a lot – I am proud to say that I am a better person now. I learned to do simple things – things that I never used to do before.

Every sunrise keeps inspiring me to never give up. Here I am now in this university holding on to my dreams, hoping that I can reach the top of this journey and will say cheers to success. Or if ever I will not, I would still be forever thankful to my aunts and grandparents because without them, I would never grow; I would never reach this stage of my dream, and I would never work for it.

If not for them, I would have remained a mere dreamer forever.

* Master Drunker Dreamer is a second year BS Agriculture student who loves singing. He is currently a staff assistant in one of the offices in this university.

My evil curse

Contributor: Badjao

“Be careful of what you wish for, because you might just have an evil curse.”

She was the villain in school. She has done bad things against everybody. And because of that, I always wished that the same bad things will happen to her someday.

And there came my “time.” I was standing in a corner when I saw her walking on the pathway. And because she bullied me earlier that day, anger triggered me to wish something bad against her.

“I wish you’ll get embarrassed,” I said.

Honestly, I meant it. Deep in my heart, I really wished that she would feel how sad it is to get embarrassed. Suddenly and unexpectedly, five minutes after I had spoken the line, a gust of wind passed. And because the wind was really strong, my mortal enemy’s skirt turned upward, revealing her legs and underwear. Her face turned really red and she quickly escaped the shameful scene.

The bully was embarrassed because students from different year levels witnessed the incident. Laughter from all the corners of our school was heard and she was then the topic of campus gossip. What probably embarrassed her most was the funny and visible fact we all witnessed – her underwear was as old as vintage and had a tear on it!

“Hmmmp…good for her,” I laughingly said.

Happy because of what happened, I narrated to my family the incident over dinner. Yes, I was happy. I was happy because I got my revenge through that.

I even told my mother that I wished for it to happen—for my classmate to get embarrassed.
I thought all of those evil thoughts were good for me. I thought it will bring contentment to me, thinking and wishing bad against her.

But my mother thought the other way. Mama did not think it was funny. She started giving sermons. She told me that I must not wish for something like that ever again. She said that it is not good to wish bad things for others. She told me my case… is different.
Her statement made me curious.

Mama looked at me for a moment, and acted as if she was done eating. She went to the living room, turned on the television, and watched. I hurriedly finished my meal and followed her. Again, I asked her.

“Because…you have a curse,” my mother said abruptly. At first, I couldn’t believe that I was hearing such a thing. She said it again and told the whole story—why and how I got it.
My mother narrated the time she was conceiving me, a witch from Siquijor got mad at her. Mama said that the bad witch told her that a lunar eclipse would come one evening and if she would look at it, the baby in her womb will eventually die.

She continued that there was indeed a lunar eclipse. And because of its beauty, she could not resist staring at it. Then my mother remembered what the witch said. The fear of losing the baby inside her filled her with terror. So she then asked another witch and asked for a remedy.
That “good” witch “reversed” the curse given by the bad witch through a ritual. The witch said I will no longer die, but I will carry a curse with me forever—a curse that whenever I speak or wish something evil to anyone, it will come true.

After Mama told me about it, I was careful of everything I say. Indeed, I have proven a lot of times that the curse is true, whenever I say something bad or evil to someone, it happens. But the curse only applies when I wish for evil things.

So, up to this moment, I control myself from saying evil or bad things. When I’m mad or not in a good mood, I would shut my mouth up and not talk at all. If I do, a lot of people including me would suffer the consequence of the curse that forever lives in me.

*Badjao is a girl.

Five peso coin

Contributor: Colecules

The amount affiliated to this object may be of less value but is actually what I consider my most significant molder. Recalling the memoirs I had a month before and just right after completing my secondary education makes my tears to fall from my present smiling eyes.

Due to my family’s incapability to send me to college, the sister of my grandpa who is a well-off bachelorette in her fifties volunteered to take care of it. She’s been in a relationship with the same sex for years, and so, was not able to bear a child. When asked to stay in the same house with them to have a better focus on my studies, I accepted it right away. A dream which is about to come true, was how I could associate my happy and hopeful feelings then.

With her financial assistance, I was able to enroll in the course I’d been dreaming of – Bachelor of Science in Accountancy. From the complete sets of uniforms to some electronic gadgets, I never expected to have them, including the student permit required to get a driver’s license (for she promised to buy me a motorbike). These were all provided by her, not to mention the sumptuous meals we always had. I could never imagine myself driving my own bike going to school and be one of the Paulinians to pass the board exam after studying diligently for four consecutive years. I also didn’t have to worry about doing any household chores nor washing my own clothes. All I did every time I reached home was eat, relax on the couch watching my favorite television program, study, and sleep.

Human as I am, I did commit mistakes. Few of those were losing the necklace given to me while inside a theater and losing her motorcycle key during one of my practice driving sessions. But that of the five peso coin was the gravest.

One day, while they were busy working at their respective workplaces and I was the only one left at home, I grabbed a five peso coin from my purse to buy some junk foods. I went to their room first to get the key for me to be able to lock the house before leaving. Upon stepping in the room, a full body mirror attached to an old cabinet welcomed me. Instead of heading directly to where the keys were placed to pick up the house key, I had to examine how I looked first in the mirror.

While looking closely at my face, I stretched my arms up with the coin in my right hand, and for some reason, played with the coin, rolled it back and forth just above the glass (mirror) part of the furniture, until such time it fell through a very small opening. My attention went directly to one corner where the keys were located.

Without thinking, I took one of the keys and put it in the furniture with a selfish goal, to get my money back. To no avail, I found it was the wrong key. What’s worst, I cannot take it out. It caused my heart to beat extremely fast.

After approximately thirty minutes, with a frightful feeling in me, my guardian arrived. As soon as my name was called, I immediately opened the gate, approached her, uttered my sincere apology and told her everything that had happened. We opened the cabinet using a knife and she saw the coin inside it. While looking at her, I could see how upset she was, probably because, she’s thinking I had other intentions in opening it, stealing maybe.

While eating breakfast the next day, I heard the most painful words. “Loy (as how they call me), when you’re done eating, pack all your things and go back to your house.” Hearing this from a person who you expect to let you become a competitive being, and who you think will serve as your bridge for the present and the future, is totally unacceptable. The following day, she had me sign a paper to withdrew everything she paid for in St. Paul ‘s University.

Because of the will and determination to really help myself, I enrolled in this institution despite my being a late enrollee, and even qualified for a scholarship. At first, I kept thinking it was the end for me but such thought only stayed with me for a short period of time.

The said experience eventually changed my views and outlook in life. From an immature dependent being, I was changed and became a fulfilled responsible individual. I wouldn’t be in TeleTech for more than a couple of years now and also became part of Jollibee for almost two years if not for the five peso coin.

You seldom see a person studying and at the same time working to make ends meet. I’m proud to say that in just another couple of weeks, I’ll be getting a degree in Information Technology. Far from what I dreamt before, but it’s without regrets.

For my success story, I thank that five peso coin for everything.

*Colecules, a BS Information Technology graduate of this university, wrote this manuscript before he graduated last March.

The black sheep

Contributor: Kira

A family is tagged as the smallest unit of the society. Despite being the smallest, for me, it is however the strongest above any other unit that exists in the community.

A family comforts and pampers each and every one of its members. It gives a home to run to whenever a member needs someone. It will always stay, whether in times of hardships or victories of each member. A family values its members and each member has its own role to play. Whatever happens to a member, it affects everyone as a group.

But what if there is one who would do the worst, unexpected thing to a family where she belongs? It sounds impossible, right? Well, it can really happen. It did happen, and unfortunately, in our family.

They say that there is what we call a ‘black sheep’ of the family. As what I have understood before, being a black sheep means being disobedient to the family – just being disobedient, that’s all. But what if being a black sheep means being totally black – being evil enough to destroy the family where she belongs?

It started years ago when I used to admire her because of the kindness, goodness, and humbleness I saw in her. She was always there for us especially in times when we need her. She helped us in whatever way she can.

But as the years passed, we observed a lot of changes in her. She would not talk to us anymore, look at us or give any attention at all. She would even want to piss us off and would irritate us. She always wants trouble. I asked myself why she was acting strange in the past years. I was always balancing the situation whether the fault was with us or with her.

Then, we just let her act the way she wanted. We ignored her for the sake of avoiding more trouble to our family. But then again, as the days were passing, we found out that she was already doing unexplainable things – things we did not expect her to do.

We found out that she is already practicing witchcraft! Yes, that’s it! With all those voodoo dolls, needles, red and black candles, etc. Name it, those were all there. When we found out what she was doing, we were surprised and shocked. However, because we can’t do anything about it, we just let her do what she wanted. We assumed that it would really end up into a big trouble if we will confront her about her witchery things.

Until we noticed that she was already applying witchcraft to the family. Yes, she practiced it within the family. Our suspicion started when some of the family members experienced unexplainable aches and pains in our bodies. My sister and I were operated with appendectomy without any signs or symptoms; my father suddenly collapsed without any reason; my mother and some of my aunts had that strange feeling of not eating fish anymore; my cousin was hospitalized for a month because she could not swallow any food – all of these were explained by the so-called “mananambal” (or faith healer). She said that all of these aches and pains were products of witchcraft.

We already asked a healer about these unexplainable aches and pains because doctors could not even explain what is happening to us. But what frightened us more was when my uncle was confined to the hospital for weeks because he was always vomiting and even fainted. He was examined and was found out that he had a brain tumor. We were not surprised because my grandfather also suffered from brain tumor that caused his early death. Although the doctor already has findings, she was also surprised because my uncle could not move his body anymore. Instead, he moaned of the intense pain in his head. We immediately got the hint. He was a victim of witchcraft and we already guessed who the doer was.

We immediately went to Siquijor for the cure but we were too late. The healer said that my uncle has no more chance for survival and she can’t help him anymore because he was being “worked” by the doer for a long time. By that time, the whole family was in grief and we did not want to tell my uncle about his condition so that he will not lose hope and would help himself to survive. But then again, time ran fast and his condition got worst. I saw how my family was badly affected with the situation. Each of us at that moment wanted to crash her and burn her to pieces. But we are Christians and we fear God.

My uncle died. We mourned. Yet, I mourned more for the fact that the death of my uncle, who is a good person, was caused by someone who belongs to our so-called family.

On the day of my uncle’s burial, I saw the demon, I saw her. She was also there to witness our pain and I’m sure she was happy with it. I can see it in her demonic face. There she was, standing in triumph. While I was looking at her face, I felt madness inside me, something in me wanted to go out and kill that woman. But a voice inside me enlightened my heart and mind. I conditioned myself that I won’t burn my soul in hell just to kill that doer, that murderer, that demon, that evil – that black sheep in our family.

I won’t sell myself to hell just to kill my aunt!

*Kira is a student of the College of Arts and Sciences who loves listening to music.

One point seventy five

Contributor: Tanjayanon

Final General Weighted Average: 1.75.

I can’t help but smile after seeing my grade. This is indeed the most fulfilling part of schooling – knowing that the fruits of your labor are paying off. For me, it was the semester that I got the highest general average grade. One point seventy five – not bad! Well, if only my life didn’t take its most remarkable turn that semester, these things will never happen.

I remember how far I’ve come after that best semester of my life. Today, I will reminisce who I was.

Just like others, I was all alone. I was like some students who sheepishly stay in one corner without anybody to talk to. To be exact, I was a loner. I did not make friends other than my original friends and all I ever wanted was to be out of school! During classes, I couldn’t raise my hands nor utter a word. Worse, people stare at me as if I have committed something bad against them. And I hate it.

It seems like my world that time stopped turning. While walking in the university hallway, my head used to be always filled with wishes, wishes, and nothing but wishes. I would always wish that I should have not enrolled, that I should have been out of school, that I was eating at home, that I was dipping my body with the caresses of my pillows and with a remote control in my hand, and that my wishes would happen the moment I’m wishing for it.

There was one time when amidst my wishes and daydreams, I woke up with the dreaded face of my teacher, looking at me like a beast that have just gone out from its cage. He was the worst! I could remember how he irritates me with his never-ending tests (which were, well, done once every week), his projects that I often call “paper torments”, and his unending lectures about anything and everything under the sun. It bored me to the fullest!

Day after day, I wished I was with my friends. In the last few minutes of my last Friday class, my toes were literally itching. Disco bars in Dumaguete City are at reach every Friday night. Driving in the streets and searching for some hot chicks to ask numbers from was one of the best things to do every Friday night. And when Sunday evening comes, and I think about school, my life suddenly turned like a river running dry, drier, and even drier…

For one school year, a day at school for me was like a year of anguish and torment! For me, everyday is just the same old day. But not until I met someone who changed not only the way I look at studying, but the way I looked at my whole life. She was someone who influenced me to suddenly make a painful-yet-better turn in my life.

I met Shine in one of those pensive Friday nights with friends. From the time our eyes met, I knew she was the one. She was imbued with almost everything a guy wishes for. Unlike the typical Friday night girls, she knows how to mix fun without risking her studies. And when I talked to her, I realized how much I’ve wasted my days at school with all of my daydreams. She talks about what she learned from even the tiniest interesting ideas in her class to the learning she gets from the few requirements that we often make together.

When Shine came, I did not only realize that as a teenager, I can mix enjoyment with studying and learning. I also realized that LOVE can be used to maneuver a person to be inspired in doing better things. After knowing Shine, I was never the same person. I found myself doing my best in class, knowing that learning and studying is something that will soon bear lasting, sweet fruits.
One point seventy five – not bad! I know this is only the start of a fruitful life. Now that I’m 20, I have never been much thankful to someone the way I’m thankful to Shine.

*Tanjayanon is a Bachelor of Science in Business Administration student of the university who is a confessed Facebook.com addict. He loves studying with Shine and plays his favorite Facebook application, Farmtown, during his free times.