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I understood that no matter how difficult the situation then, like the makeshift toilet and the few hours of sleep due to conventions, educational discussions as well as integration in picketlines, our parents had the best intentions.
Youth activists were stirred to chant louder as the rain fell harder: “Magpapatakot ba tayo sa ulan? Ang mga magsasaka nga, pinauulanan ng bala. Tubig lang ‘yan!”
How unfortunate, really, since there were only three journalists in the restaurant at that time – Marya, Zeng, and I. And all three of them happened to be holding a spoon on one hand and fork on the other and not a camera to capture the moment.
Truth was our weapon. Truth effected change.
The Lakbayan camp is like a river junction from where water rushes stronger towards a new direction.
Political detainees are behind bars because they dared to go against the status quo.
What are the ups and downs of covering the front lines of protests?
Bulatlat’s jester wears a fur coat.
I was not only honing my writing skills in Bulatlat, but also deepening the commitment to serve the people’s interests and their struggles.
I would say journalism is a blessing as it is a curse. Writing is my only way of trying to help out those whose voices are either unheard or muted. There are times I feel it is not enough.
A Bulatlat.com intern meets her future self at a job fair.
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