The Narrative

Maybe in heaven, their scars are gone.

The wounds they carried,the pain they endured,and the suffering they never deserved are finally gone.

I hope they never feel betrayed again.

Maybe all they know now is peace.

Words and Art by Symone Saguisi

𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗿𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀, 𝗕𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀!

The accomplishments of the College of Business, Entrepreneurship and Accountancy keep on rolling in as 20 students have recently passed their NC III Bookkeeping Exam. Your dedication, perseverance, and commitment to excellence serve as evidence of how far determination can take you.

May this accomplishment push you towards more success and opportunities ahead.

Congratulations, CBEAns!

Sa ilalim ng nag-aapoy na sikat ng araw, habang tahimik kaming naglalakad ni Mama, isang batang naglalako ng balut ang pumukaw sa aking atensyon. Sa murang edad na dapat sana’y paglalaro at pagpapahinga pa lamang ang kanyang pinagkakaabalahan, naroon siya sa gitna ng init ng lansangan, tangan ang kanyang paninda at pilit na nakikipagsapalaran sa mabigat na realidad ng buhay.

“Gusto mo bang bumili?” tanong ni Mama sa akin. Bahagya akong umiling at sumagot, “Hindi ko naman masyadong gusto ang balut, Ma.” Ngunit habang unti-unting lumalayo ang bata, tila may kung anong kumurot sa aking puso. Kaya agad ko rin siyang tinawag pabalik upang bumili na lamang kami. Dinagdagan pa ni Mama ang bayad upang kahit papaano’y may pambili siya ng tubig sakaling mauhaw siya sa paglalako.

Sa simpleng tagpong iyon, may isang katotohanang tahimik na yumakap sa aking isipan—na hindi pantay ang buhay na tinatahak ng bawat tao. Habang ang iba ay payapang nagpapahinga sa kani-kanilang tahanan, may mga batang maagang namulat sa hirap ng mundo at piniling magbanat ng buto kaysa maglaro. Isa itong paalala kung gaano kabigat ang laban na kinahaharap ng bawat isa sa buhay.

Isinulat ni Joddie Tierra
Dibuho ni Symone Fabionar

Sometimes I miss being little.

Back then,
life was just school projects,
allowance,
and snacks after class.

I miss wandering around,
laughing too loudly,
and being naughty without guilt.

I miss when life felt soft,
simple,
and easy to survive.

Words and Art by Symone Fabionar

Recently, I saw a video on TikTok.
An OFW in Dubai was sitting alone,
with the caption:

“Homeless tonight in Dubai…
but not hopeless.
God is with me.”

And somehow,
those simple words stayed with me.

I caught myself staring at the screen,
trying to imagine how heavy life must feel
for someone far away from home,
surviving loneliness in a country that is not theirs.

And I cried.

Because being an OFW is never easy.

People only see the money they send,
the gifts they bring home,
the support they provide to their families.
But behind every remittance
is exhaustion,
homesickness,
silent breakdowns,
and sacrifices no one talks about enough.

I suddenly thought of my two aunties working abroad.
They helped me financially for my education,
and I know those blessings did not come easily.

Those school payments,
those small things I receive,
came from their sweat,
their tired bodies,
their sacrifices,
and the pain of being away from the people they love.

That realization hurt me.

And honestly,
it makes me angry when people fail to appreciate OFWs.
Some complain when the money is not enough,
some only remember them when they need something,
without realizing what they had to give up just to provide it.

OFWs sacrifice their own happiness
just to make their families’ lives better.

While others celebrate together at home,
they spend holidays alone.
While others sleep peacefully beside their loved ones,
they fight loneliness in small rooms far away.

And despite all that,
they still choose to endure.

Not because life abroad is easy,
but because love makes sacrifice possible.

That TikTok video became a quiet reminder for me:
strength does not always look loud.

Sometimes,
it looks like someone silently surviving in another country,
holding onto faith,
carrying homesickness in their chest,
and still finding the courage to say:

“Not hopeless.
God is with me.”

Words by Symone Fabionar
Art by Reychelle An Petilos

Narratives written, heard, and flashed—
stroke by stroke,
ink by ink,
wit by wit.

To the voices behind the pages—
the graphic artist who gave form to thought,
the writer who turned silence into ink and meaning into motion,
and the cartoonist who transformed wit into wonder—
thank you for being on the frontline,
served as the voices of the CSU CBEA Community.

You have illustrated that life is not static through your graphics.
Your inks flowed like feathers but cut like blades,
and your sketches have shaped issues worth telling.

Thank you for narrating that being a CBEAn does not end in the accounting walls, it begins within the self and extends into others.

To the outgoing staffers, thank you for carrying the weight of stories, deadlines, ideas, and sleepless nights while balancing your senior years.

You did not merely narrate the narratives—you gave them life, framed them, and set them free.

We hope that you will continue to illustrate, to write, to sketch, and speak your heart through journalism.

In our narrative, we will always talk good of you, because indeed, you are.

via Reychelle An Petilos

The calendars flip,
and the hands of clocks continue to twirl.
The green meadow shifts its color
as the Earth slowly rotates.

And somehow, have you ever stood in a field
where part of your childhood still shares the breeze,
only to suddenly whisper,

“Parang ang lawak nito noong bata ako ah… hindi naman pala.”

But maybe the place did not become smaller.
Maybe we simply grew.

As children, we see the world from a child’s perspective.
A small field feels endless.
The thought that the moon quietly follows our track.
A short road that felt very far.
A different nation that we thought existed only on TV.

Indeed, we are small enough to see the world with wonder, curiosity, and imagination.

And as calendars continue to flip,
we grow alongside time.
Our perspective shifts.
The places that once felt enormous
slowly become familiar in size,
yet not in meaning.

Maybe that’s the beauty of growing up.

It teaches us that life was never meant
to remain in one familiar place forever.
The meadow was never meant to give us comfort only for us to stay there forever;
it was created to make us wonder what exists beyond it.

People often say,
“Go out and “observe” your surroundings, and you’ll realize how privileged you are.”

But perhaps we should also go out and truly “see”our surroundings.

Because once you do, you begin to realize how vast the world really is.

So maybe the place never became smaller at all.
Maybe we simply grew enough to finally see
how big the world has always been.

So go out there and create your narrative, your journey, your adventure
alongside the calendar that flips through time.

Words by Lyzette Kate Tajadao
Art by Sheryl Solima

𝗜𝗡 𝗣𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗢𝗦 | 𝗕𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛 𝗟𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗡𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗔𝗚 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦' 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟲 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗜𝗜𝗜

“Success is not individual, it is shared.”- Atty. Soller

Truly, success becomes sweeter when it is shared not only with the people you love, but most especially with those who helped you carry the weight of your dreams into reality.

The Batch Lakanlayag Parents’ Night 2026 became a meaningful celebration of sacrifices, silent battles, and diverse journeys no one else has fully seen. More than the smiles, laughter, and warmth that filled the night, the event served as a reminder that every story carried by each student and parent is worthy to be told — a testament of how long they endured, persisted, and finally became.

As moments turned into memories, the night reflected the beauty of journeys that were never meant to be walked alone.

Here’s to the people behind every success, every prayer, and every becoming, and to the future yet to unfold and victories that will once again be shared together.

Photos by Kathlyn Alipio

𝗜𝗡 𝗣𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗢𝗦 | 𝗕𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛 𝗟𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗡𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗔𝗚 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦' 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟲 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗜𝗜

“Success is not individual, it is shared.”- Atty. Soller

Truly, success becomes sweeter when it is shared not only with the people you love, but most especially with those who helped you carry the weight of your dreams into reality.

The Batch Lakanlayag Parents’ Night 2026 became a meaningful celebration of sacrifices, silent battles, and diverse journeys no one else has fully seen. More than the smiles, laughter, and warmth that filled the night, the event served as a reminder that every story carried by each student and parent is worthy to be told — a testament of how long they endured, persisted, and finally became.

As moments turned into memories, the night reflected the beauty of journeys that were never meant to be walked alone.

Here’s to the people behind every success, every prayer, and every becoming, and to the future yet to unfold and victories that will once again be shared together.

Photos by Kathlyn Alipio and Symone Fabionar

𝗜𝗡 𝗣𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗢𝗦 | 𝗕𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛 𝗟𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗡𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗔𝗚 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦' 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟲

“Success is not individual, it is shared.”- Atty. Soller

Truly, success becomes sweeter when it is shared not only with the people you love, but most especially with those who helped you carry the weight of your dreams into reality.

The Batch Lakanlayag Parents’ Night 2026 became a meaningful celebration of sacrifices, silent battles, and diverse journeys no one else has fully seen. More than the smiles, laughter, and warmth that filled the night, the event served as a reminder that every story carried by each student and parent is worthy to be told — a testament of how long they endured, persisted, and finally became.

As moments turned into memories, the night reflected the beauty of journeys that were never meant to be walked alone.

Here’s to the people behind every success, every prayer, and every becoming, and to the future yet to unfold and victories that will once again be shared together.

Photos by Kathlyn Alipio and Marilyn Tungpalan