The Sea Treasure

With pride and honor, we send off our very own SAMAHAN Suprema, Manang Rayline Ann Torremillano!

As you march at the 2026 Commencement Exercises, the entire SAMAHAN stands behind you with the highest respect. Ahead of tomorrow's ISUFST Presidential Medallion Award announcement, we celebrate the profound honor you have already given our organization and Main Campus-Tiwi Site.

Thank you for lifting everyone up with you. Carry our pride as you sail into your next great chapter.

Panginbulahan, Manang Rayline!



>>>

Read Manang Rayline’s story here: https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=987459397370721&set=a.112616444855025

𝘼 𝙎𝙖𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙙-𝙊𝙛𝙛: 𝙄𝙎𝙐𝙁𝙎𝙏 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙙𝙪𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙀𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝘼𝙘𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙘 𝙅𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙮

𝗕𝗔𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗔𝗖 𝗡𝗨𝗘𝗩𝗢 | The graduating students of Iloilo State University of Fisheries Science and Technology (ISUFST) gathered at St. Anthony de Padua Church in Barotac Nuevo for their Baccalaureate Mass. This solemn gave the graduates the opportunity to pause and offer their sincere gratitude for their years of hard work, perseverance, sacrifice, and seek divine guidance for the future.

Blessed and inspired by the eucharistic celebration, the graduates left the sacred celebration ready to confidently cast their nets into the professional world.

Captured & Caption by Faei Verbo

𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐘
‎
‎Before we teach the world, should we not first learn how to value a human life?
‎
‎On June 14, I attended a Contemporary World review session at a review center in Iloilo City. I expected a discussion that would help us understand society and politics in a clearer and more balanced way. Instead, I left the room with a question that felt heavier than the lesson itself.
‎
‎During the discussion, the lecturer mentioned that she supports former President Rodrigo Duterte and Senator Robin Padilla. That alone is not an issue. Everyone has the right to their political views.
‎
‎What made me uncomfortable was how she explained her view about the Duterte administration.
‎
‎She said,
‎"Kanami gid sa time ni PRRD, kay safe kag nami kay mga addicts gin puntirya."
‎
‎("Maganda noong panahon ni PRRD dahil ligtas at maayos dahil ang mga adik ang pinupuntirya.")
‎
‎I stayed quiet, but that statement raised a question in my mind. If safety is achieved by targeting “addicts,” what about those who were not guilty of anything? What about the innocent lives affected during that time?
‎
‎So I asked,
‎"How about ma’am ang mga bata nga napatay during drug war, addicts man sila?"
‎
‎("Paano naman po, ma’am, ang mga batang napatay noong drug war? Mga adik din po ba sila?")
‎
‎Without hesitation, she answered,
‎"Yes."
‎
‎No explanation. No pause. No reflection.
‎
‎That one word stayed with me.
‎
‎Because how do we label a child as an “addict” just to make sense of their death? How do we make that sound normal?
‎
‎After that, she added that situations like that were unavoidable and part of implementation issues. But for me, it felt like something deeper was being accepted, that some lives can simply be considered collateral.
‎
‎But should that ever be normal?
‎
‎When did we start treating the death of children as something we can explain away? When did we begin deciding that some lives matter less if it fits a bigger goal?
‎
‎This is where my concern grows beyond that moment.
‎
‎A teacher is not required to push a political side. But a teacher is expected to guide learners to think critically, to question, and to value human life first before any belief or system.
‎
‎That is why the irony is hard to ignore. The subject was Contemporary World, a course meant to help learners understand real issues with open thinking and fairness. But instead, the discussion felt like it blurred the line between analysis and acceptance.
‎
‎Hindi ba’t sa paaralan pa lang, dapat natututo tayong maging mapanuri at makatao?
‎
‎Supporting a leader is a personal choice. But when that support begins to ignore or justify the suffering of innocent people, we have to stop and ask where the line is drawn.
‎
‎Because education should not teach blind loyalty. It should teach judgment. It should not normalize harm. It should help students recognize it.
‎
‎In the end, a society is not only measured by its leaders or policies, but by how it treats the most vulnerable, especially those who cannot defend themselves.
‎
‎If a classroom can turn the loss of innocent lives into something acceptable, then the question is no longer just about politics.
‎
‎It becomes about what we are slowly learning to accept as normal.

—
This opinion piece reflects the personal views of the author, Arniel S. Clarite, and does not necessarily represent the views of the publication, its editors, or staff.

𝐊𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐲𝐚: 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐭 𝐇𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢 𝐊𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐚𝐠-𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐚 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐤𝐚

P**a, dilaw, rosas, berde, asul. Kung titingnan mo ang kasalukuyang kalagayan ng politikang Pilipino, para tayong nakatingin sa isang nag-aaway na crayon box. Mula sa mga komentaryo sa hapagkainan hanggang sa walang katapusang sagutan sa TikTok at Facebook, tila ba nahati na ang bansa sa mga kulay at paksyon. Nakakapagod, 'di ba? Umabot na tayo sa punto na tila ba bawal nang makipagkapwa-tao sa hindi mo kakulay o kaalyansa. Sa unang tingin, napakasarap sanang isipin kung nagkakaisa na lang tayong lahat—isang bansa, isang tinig, isang direksyon nang walang ingay.

Pero sandali. Paano kung sabihin ko sa inyo na ang pagtatalo natin sa politika ay hindi palatandaan na sira ang Pilipinas, kundi patunay na buhay ang ating demokrasya?

Sa gitna ng tinatawag nating "political divide" , marapat nating himayin nang obhitibo kung bakit ang hidwaan ng mga pananaw ay maaari palang maging isang magandang bagay para sa ating bayan. Upang maunawaan ito nang malalim, gamitin natin ang tatlong matalas na lente mula sa agham pampolitika at sosyolohiya: ang "Agonistics" ni Chantal Mouffe, ang teorya ng "Counter-Hegemony" ni Antonio Gramsci, at ang "Public Sphere" ni Jürgen Habermas. Ang pilit na pagkakaisa ba ang tunay na sagot, o baka kailangan talaga natin ng "gulo" at banggaan ng opinyon upang umunlad?

Simulan natin sa pag-intindi sa kalikasan ng politika gamit ang teorya ng "Agonistics" ni Chantal Mouffe. Ayon kay Mouffe, ang tunay na politika ay natural na magulo at puno ng hidwaan. Mapanganib kapag pinipilit ng Estado ang "absolute unity" —gaya ng mga nakaraang islogan ng "Unity" na ginamit upang tabunan ang mga kritikal na isyu. Sa kasaysayan, ang pilit na pagkakaisa ay madalas na nauuwi sa diktadura kung saan pinapatahimik ang sino mang pumapalag. Tingnan natin ang kasalukuyang banggaan ng UniTeam: ang pagkakabaklas ng kanilang alyansa ay nagpapakita na ang hungkag na "pagkakaisa" ay pansamantala lamang, ngunit ang hidwaan ng kanilang mga pananaw ay nagbibigay ng espasyo para sa publiko na makita ang magkakaibang interes. Para kay Mouffe, mas malusog ang may "divide", basta’t nakikita natin ang kabilang panig bilang isang lehitimong katunggali (adversary) na may sariling paniniwala, at hindi bilang isang kaaway (enemy) na dapat patayin o burahin sa lipunan. Ang pagtatalo natin, gaano man ito karespeto kung minsan, ay patunay na malaya pa tayong magsalita nang hindi basta-basta ikinukulong ng pamahalaan.

Dito naman papasok ang proseso ng pagbaklas sa bulok na sistema gamit ang pilosopiya ni Antonio Gramsci ukol sa "Counter-Hegemony" . Ayon kay Gramsci, ang mga naghaharing-uri (elite) ay nagpapanatili ng kapangyarihan sa paglikha ng "hegemony"—isang naratibo na ginagawa nilang mukhang "normal" upang ang mga tao ay hindi na magreklamo. Sa digital na panahon ngayon, nakikita natin ito sa talamak na "social media trolling" at propagandang ikinakalat ng mga makapangyarihan upang kontrolin ang isip ng masa. Paano ito binabasag? Sa pamamagitan ng "counter-hegemony", o ang pag-usbong ng mga kritikal na boses ng mga netizen at kabataan na naglalabas ng katotohanan, Fact-Check, at mga meme na pumupuna sa gobyerno. Kung walang "political divide", kung lunok-bulag lang tayo sa bawat sabihin ng mga bayarang algorithm, mananatili tayong bilanggo ng kasinungalingan. Ang pagkontra at paglalantad ng katotohanan sa internet ay hindi paninira; ito ay pagbuo ng bagong kamalayan laban sa monopolyo ng maling impormasyon.

Pangatlo ay ang praktikal na epekto nito sa ating espasyo bilang mamamayan gamit ang konsepto ng "Public Sphere" ni Jürgen Habermas. Para kay Habermas, ang lipunan ay demokratiko lamang kung may malayang espasyo kung saan ang mga ordinaryong mamamayan ay may laya na mag-usap at magpasa ng hatol sa gobyerno. Ang ingay at sigalot sa diskurso ay patunay ng isang buhay na "public sphere" . Mas maigi na ang lipunang nagtatalo-talo at nagbabantayan dahil sa magkakaibang paniniwala, kaysa sa lipunang tulog, tahimik, at hinahayaan na lang ang pagnanakaw dahil takot magsalita.

Sa agham ng politika, ang kawalan ng gulo ay hindi laging ibig sabihin ng kapayapaan. Kadalasan, ito ay palatandaan ng sistematikong pagpapatahimik, takot, at opresyon. Ang kalayaan nating maging magkakaiba ang mismong nagbibigay-buhay sa ating bansa.

Ang espasyong tinatamasa natin ngayon upang magtalo at mag-ingay ay hindi ibinigay sa atin nang libre sa isang pilak na plato. Ito ay dumanas ng madugong kasaysayan. Ang boses ng mamamayan—higit sa lahat ng mga kabataan noong dekada '70 at '80—ang naglapat ng daan sa makasaysayang rebolusyon upang patalsikin ang diktador na si Ferdinand Marcos Sr. Malaya ang kabataang mamamahayag ngayon na maghayag ng saloobin dahil may mga naunang nag-ingay noong pilit na pinatatahimik ang bayan.

Ngunit ang tanong: Hanggang sa ingay na lang ba tayo?

Dito dumarating ang hamon sa ating henerasyon. Ang susunod na eleksyon ay muling magiging isang malaking arena ng labanan ng mga kulay, naratibo, at algorithm. Kung hahayaan nating manatili ang "Crayon Box Politics" sa loob lamang ng ating mga screen—sa mga komentaryo sa Facebook, o sa mga maiinit na diskurso sa TikTok—tinatraydor natin ang diwa ng demokrasya. Ang tunay na "counter-hegemony" at ang lakas ng ating "public sphere" ay hindi nasusukat sa dami ng "likes," "shares," o "retweets." Ito ay nasusukat sa ating pagpila, pagpaparehistro, at pagboto. Ang kapangyarihang pumuna ay walang saysay kung tuwing araw ng halalan ay nananatili tayong nakaupo sa ating mga kwarto at hinahayaan ang mga trapo (traditional politicians) na maghari muli.

Kaya naman, sa mga kapwa ko kabataang botante, gisingin natin ang lakas na nagpatalsik sa diktadura. Huwag tayong matakot sa ingay at sa hidwaan ng opinyon, dahil ang maingay na bansa ay bansang gising at lumalaban. Gamitin natin ang ating matalas na panulat, mapanuring pag-iisip, at higit sa lahat, ang ating balota. Sa susunod na eleksyon, huwag lang tayong basta pumili ng kulay—pumili tayo ng prinsipyo. Ipakita natin na ang kabataan ang siyang magtatakda ng takbo ng kasaysayan. Huwag nating hayaang maging tahimik ang ating bansa dahil sa takot o kawalan ng pakialam.

Tumindig tayo, magparehistro, at bumoto; dahil ang tunay na pagkakaisa ay hindi ang pagsunod nang pikit-mata, kundi ang sama-samang lakas ng mamamayang matapang na tumututol, nagtatanong, at nagpapasya para sa kinabukasan ng bayan.

—
Isinulat at larawang-guhit ni Joshua John Batayo

As 𝗔𝗰𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗰 𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟱–𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟲 comes to a close, we proudly celebrate the 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗱𝘂𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 staffers of 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝗲𝗮 𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲. Your dedication, creativity, and commitment to responsible journalism have left a lasting mark on our publication and the university community.

Behind every article, layout, photograph, and story are countless hours of hard work, sacrifice, and passion. Your achievements are a reflection not only of your talents but also of your perseverance throughout the years.

Congratulations on your well-deserved recognition and on reaching this important milestone. May you carry the values of 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡, 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 wherever your next journey leads. Once a Sea Treasure staffer, always a Sea Treasure staffer.

—
Layout by Arniel S. Clarite

128 years ago, a flag was raised, a nation found its voice, and a dream of freedom echoed across the shores of Kawit, Cavite.

On June 12, 1898, the Philippines declared its independence after more than three centuries of colonial rule. Yet the story of our freedom did not end there. It was built through the courage of revolutionaries, the sacrifices of heroes, and the unwavering hope of Filipinos who dared to imagine a free nation.

Today, as we commemorate the 128th Anniversary of Philippine Independence, we remember that freedom was never simply given. It was fought for, defended, and carried forward by generations before us.

May this day inspire us not only to look back on our history with pride but also to reflect on how we can contribute to the future of the nation they dreamed of.

Maligayang ika-128 Araw ng Kalayaan, Pilipinas!

—
Layout by Arniel S. Clarite

Congratulations to the awardees of ISUFST Main Campus – Tiwi Site! Your hard work, dedication, and countless efforts have led to this moment of recognition, and it deserves to be remembered.

📸 Scan the QR code to access your photos from 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐋 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔, held at the University Cultural Center on June 11, 2026.

Congratulations once again. May these photos remind you of how far you have come and the many milestones still ahead. ✨

—
A special thanks to the staff of The Sea Treasure, Chelsea Faye H. Verbo, Jhana Mee S. Bagsit, and Klent De la Peña, who worked together behind a single mirrorless camera to capture the smiles, pride, and memories of this special day.

𝐀 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡
via Arniel S. Clarite

Silence replaced the usual classroom chatter as graduating students of ISUFST Tiwi Site gathered for their recollection at the University Cultural Center on Monday.

The activity offers soon-to-be graduates a rare pause from academic requirements and graduation preparations.

Through guided reflections and sharing sessions, participants were invited to revisit the stories that defined their college years.

Moments of gratitude, uncertainty, perseverance, and triumph surfaced as students looked back on the path that brought them to the finish line.

For many attendees, the gathering marks one of their final shared experiences before graduation.

—

Captured and Layout by Arniel S. Clarite

𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃, 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈 𝐁𝐔𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈 𝐍𝐀 ’𝐊𝐎 𝐀𝐆𝐈
‎by Justine Pracio
‎
‎Trust me, I have never wished to live a life where I no longer had to fear hell, because the world I live in now already feels no different. Maybe even worse. All because I chose to live my life the way I wanted to and express myself the way I genuinely felt I was meant to.
‎
‎There were countless nights when I knelt beside my bed, hands trembling in prayer, asking God for forgiveness—for a desperate plea to fix me, to correct whatever was supposedly wrong, to change me completely. Because life for a gay man raised in a religious and conservative family was never easy.
‎
‎Growing up, I carried different kinds of pain: humiliation, ridicule, and the quiet ache of constantly being made to feel wrong. Simply because I moved differently from what people expected of a “typical” man. Because my hobbies conflicted with the rigid roles society demanded I perform according to the sexuality they assumed for me at birth. Because I loved things people believed only women should love.
‎
‎I spent a decade of my life devoted to the church. I became a worship leader, a faithful servant, someone who gave pieces of himself to faith with sincerity. Yet within those years of devotion, I was taught that who I was as a person was a horrifying sin in the eyes of many—more condemnable than acts of cruelty people somehow still found room to forgive after repentance.
‎
‎And when that belief had been planted so deeply into my heart, watered by years of sermons, judgment, and fear, I eventually accepted what I thought was my fate. That hell was already written beside my name. That being different, being authentic, was a sin.
‎
‎But then I realized something terrifying:
‎
‎I was already living the hell people feared.
‎
‎Because ridicule burns.
‎
‎And for someone like me, the ridicule against my identity had already scorched enough. But that scorching only grew into a wildfire, fed by the people around me—the church members, professors, peers, and worse, even those within the family who were supposed to feel like home.
‎
‎I remember something Bretman Rock once said in a podcast when asked who he looked up to:
‎
‎“I look up to God, even though I was going to hell for being gay.”
‎
‎And somehow, those words pierced through me in ways I could never explain. Because it sounded painfully familiar. The kind of pain that settles quietly in your chest and stays there for years, like grief learning how to breathe beside you.
‎
‎So I withdrew.
‎
‎I distanced myself from the places and people I thought only deepened the wounds I was already trying so hard to survive. I stopped going to church, though I never abandoned my faith in the God I grew up knowing. I cut ties with people who ridiculed me for being authentic. I taught myself to despise those who looked down on me for simply existing as I am.
‎
‎Because I thought vengeance—even the silent kind—would make life easier.
‎
‎But I was wrong.
‎
‎I realized that for many gay men, life can feel like an inevitable hell of proving, surviving, and constantly justifying our existence. And if the hell people fear truly waits at the end of this world, then I only hope I have become numb enough to endure another kind of fire.
‎
‎And I know I am not alone in this.
‎
‎There are people like me—people desperate to dominate spaces, excel in different fields, overachieve not only because we dream big, but because we crave recognition. Because sometimes, it feels like if we have nothing extraordinary to show, society reduces us into something microscopic—something tiny enough to overlook, easy enough to step on.
‎
‎Yet despite feeling that small, people still somehow notice the one thing that should never concern them:
‎
‎My authenticity.
‎
‎How I wish life had been gentler to that eight-year-old child lying in bed every night, whispering prayers into the dark, wishing that tomorrow he would wake up no longer gay.
‎
‎Because no child should ever have to beg God to become someone easier to love.

—
Layout by Arniel S. Clarite
Illustration by Joshua John Batayo

𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐆 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐅𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐢𝐰𝐢
via Arniel S. Clarite

The Iloilo State University of Fisheries Science and Technology (ISUFST) Main Tiwi Campus conducted PASIDUNGOG 2026: Awarding Ceremony for Student Leaders and Organizations on May 28 at the Hasa-Hasa Theater.

Organized by the Student Support Center (SSC) in partnership with the University Student Council (USC), the program recognized the outstanding contributions and achievements of student leaders, organizations, publications, and support groups within the university.

The event featured the oathtaking ceremony of the newly elected University Student Council (USC) Officers for Academic Year 2026–2027, formally welcoming the new set of student leaders who will serve the university community.

Hon. Rjay B. Pahuganoy served as the inspirational speaker and encouraged students to lead with character, passion, and humility in fulfilling their duties and responsibilities as leaders.

Certificates of recognition were also awarded to outgoing USC officers, college student councils, clubs, organizations, publications, and support groups in recognition of their service and contributions throughout the academic year.

During the awarding ceremony, Ms. Rayline Ann O. Torremillano was named Most Outstanding Student Leader 2026. Finalists in the category were Mr. Jude Michael B. Casumpang, Mr. Arniel S. Clarite, and Ms. Jessa P. De la Cruz.

The Samahan ng mga Mag-aaral sa Humanities at Agham Panlipunan (SAMAHAN) was recognized as the Most Outstanding Student Organization 2026, while GAD Peer Advocates and Socialis Scientia were named finalists.

The event concluded with the recognition of student leaders and organizations for their commitment to leadership, service, and excellence in the university community.

—
Captured by Rinz Ivan Pineda