DAVAO CITY (MindaNews / 25 December) — “Iskolar ng bayan, ngayon ay lumalaban!”
There’s a certain rhythm that pulses through the streets during mobilization rallies. Somewhere where the chants rise like waves, where the placards sway like an ocean of conviction, and in that very sea of passion faces blur into one fierce collective. But behind every raised fist is a hand that also trembles when it’s tired. In every voice spoken out, is one that has the potential to hoarse and shake.
Activism roars loud and penetrates deep in the halls of the University of the Philippines – Mindanao. But where revolution thrives, it is deemed synonymous with noise; the chants, the march, and the fiery speeches. People only see the slogans painted in red, the headlines, and the agitation. But those who live through it know: activism is more than the fight. Rather a found family, and the best security one could ever wish they had in their life.
When I first stepped foot into National Democratic Mass Organizations (NDMOs), I expected to be thrown into an alternate universe that only knows protests and manifestos. I braced myself for long discussions about national issues, reads on Maoist theories, and late nights spent on drafting statements. What I didn’t expect were the quiet days where life was enjoyed through sharing “balolong” during production works, or the laughter that echoed louder than our chants because of a misspelled word written on a placard.
The kind of tenderness I see in student activists when they try to look out for each other is something I rarely see elsewhere. I have witnessed someone handing out a water bottle after an exhausting mobilization, another will offer a piece of their snack, and someone else in the crowd will jokingly complain about standing up too much that their feet start to hurt. It makes me think how we do not always have much, but what we have, we share. It’s a small, daily form of love that keeps the fire burning.
In activism, we are taught that love is supposed to be a “verb” rather than a “noun.” Yet, in the grand vision of serving the people, we sometimes forget that love also takes shape in the smallest gesture.
Our generation is often told that activism is dangerous, that it’s idealistic, even naïve. But what could be more human than to care so deeply for something beyond oneself? What could be more revolutionary than choosing compassion in a world that teaches indifference?
When people ask me why I continue to join mobilizations, I anchor myself on the people I am with—their laughter, their courage, and quiet persistence. How love has always been at the heart of it all.
Because when the chants fade and the placards are set down, what remains are the people who carried them. The laughter shared in between struggles. The friendships born out of sleepless nights and shared ideals. The reminder that in fighting for humanity, we must never lose our own.
And perhaps, that’s the truest face of activism—where love, laughter, and struggle intertwine. Where being human is not a distraction from the cause, but the very reason we fight for it.
(Batang Mindanaw is the youth section of MindaNews. Seyah Jimae Santos is a first year BA Communication and Media Arts student at the University of the Philippines-Mindanao. She serves as Secretary-General of the Council of Freshie Students. She is a youth advocate whose work is grounded in the belief that writing is inherently a political act. Through critical commentary and creative writing, she seeks to challenge systemic injustices and contribute to a more engaged and conscientious public discourse).
