Mga Marka » Bali-balita

Edsa 1986 was not my revolution

Marcos, for me, was the name that was always on the tabloids my father liked to read and then fold into a whipping rod, and the marching hymn “May Bagong Silang” that wafted at exactly 7am through our shack from a public school just a stone’s throw away. 845 more words



I was 17 in 1986. Now, I am 46. I still remember, but I am entitled to just one vote.


They say time heals all wounds. 797 more words