Andres Tala

21/09/2025

When Filipinos first sang Handog ng Pilipino sa Mundo, the world listened. Here was a nation showing that democracy and freedom could be reclaimed not by violence, but by people gathering arm in arm... rich and poor, priests and nuns, even soldiers... offering trust to one another and choosing peace over bloodshed.

The refrain says it all: “Katotohanan, kalayaan, katarungan ay kayang makamit nang walang dahas. Basta’t magkaisa tayong lahat.” Truth, freedom, and justice can be achieved without violence, if we are united. That is not just a lyric; it is a principle proven in our history.

Today, when frustration with entrenched power tempts us toward anger or even violence, the song’s message is more urgent than ever. Violence can break structures, yes... but it cannot heal wounds. It cannot teach people to govern themselves with conscience. It cannot cultivate trust, dignity, or responsibility. Like dirty water, violence only muddies what it touches.

Peaceful protest, by contrast, has power deeper than any weapon. It builds solidarity across divides, exposes injustice with truth, inspires imagination through art and music, and plants seeds of dignity that grow into real change. The world remembers 1986 not for who was toppled, but for what Filipinos gave: a gift of peaceful change.

The lyrics remind us, “Huwag muling payagang umiral ang dilim. Tinig ng bawat tao’y bigyang pansin.” Never again allow darkness to reign. Let every voice be heard. This is both warning and hope: warning against falling back into cycles of repression, and hope that even now, we can reclaim the spirit of unity and light.

The gift of the Filipino to the world is not in violence, but in courage disciplined by peace. It is our offering, our compass, and perhaps, our greatest legacy.

LISTEN to "Handog Ng Pilipino Sa Mundo" https://tinyurl.com/49njadkpDon’t forget to subscribe: http://bit.ly/1oc...

21/07/2025

"Tracing the Estero: A Walk Through the Waters of Our Collective Neglect"

Earlier today, I found myself wading through ankle-deep floodwaters near Mayhaligue, Masangkay, Benavides, Alonzo, and Fugoso streets. It wasn’t the first time, and probably won’t be the last... but something about today made me pause and really look.

There, flowing sluggishly between these roads, is an old estero... one of many veins in Manila’s once-proud drainage and waterway system, designed during the Spanish and American colonial periods when waterways were central to commerce, hygiene, and urban planning. These esteros were meant to carry excess rainwater out to the bay, to prevent flooding, and to keep the city breathable and clean.

But today, what I saw was a waterway choking... not just on plastic and garbage, but on apathy.

Houses now sit directly on top of or next to the estero. Trash floats undisturbed. And the stench that rises from the water is not just of decay... but of imbalance. Somehow, we’ve collectively allowed this lifeline to become a liability.

And as I stood there, I couldn’t help but think: this isn’t just a problem of "them"... not just of government or urban poor or agencies or developers. It’s a problem of us. We build where we shouldn’t. We throw trash where we shouldn’t. And then, when the floods come... we point fingers.

This is a two-way street problem. The government may have failed in enforcement, in urban planning, in providing enough dignified housing alternatives. But we too have failed... in stewardship, in discipline, in caring for the little patch of the world we stand on.
We forget that balance isn’t just a lofty ideal... it’s practical. Physical. Tangible. It lives in how we treat our environment and how our environment responds in turn.

What I saw today wasn’t just floodwater... it was a reflection of our choices, past and present.
Maybe it’s time we stop blaming and start restoring.

15/07/2025

Another quiet shift in policy... worth reflecting on.

Recently, I came across a news update: the government will now impose a 20% final withholding tax on the interest earned from long-term deposits and savings accounts. Not the principal... just the interest. But still, it made me pause.

At first glance, it feels minor. After all, it’s “just” the interest. But for many ordinary Filipinos... especially retirees, OFWs saving for the long haul, or middle-income workers building a nest egg... this small change could mean a lot. Imagine trusting the system to grow your money slowly over 5 or 10 years, only to be taxed further on what little gain you earn from being patient and responsible.

I understand the argument: tax reform needs to be simple, fair, and broad-based. From a technical lens, standardizing the rate across different financial instruments levels the playing field and helps raise funds for government programs. That’s the rationale.

But here’s the catch: in the bigger picture of our economy, this type of measure... if implemented without care... might discourage saving, weaken trust in financial institutions, and unintentionally push people into higher-risk or even informal investments. When the quiet, law-abiding saver feels punished, something is off.

And at a time when we’re trying to promote financial literacy and long-term thinking, this feels like a step in the opposite direction.

We must always ask: Is this a just burden? Are we lifting up, or merely extracting from, those who are already doing their part quietly?

I don’t pretend to have the full economic picture. These are just my personal reflections as someone trying to navigate a world where discipline is often taxed more than recklessness.

We need reforms, yes. But balance matters more than ever. Revenue should not come at the expense of the very behaviors... like saving, patience, and financial prudence... that make a nation stable.

Maybe the better way forward is this: tax reforms that are smart and humane, systems that reward sustainability, and leadership that listens... not just to economists, but to the everyday Filipino trying to do things right.

May we never stop questioning what’s fair... not out of complaint, but out of hope that we can build something better.

Simula Hulyo 1, mas mataas na ang buwis na kinokolekta mula sa interes ng mga pangmatagalang savings at deposits sa bangko gaya ng time deposit, ayon sa mga major banks sa bansa.

09/05/2025

The World Moving Too Fast (Real-World Reflection)

The world right now—
is moving too fast.

So fast that people are being left behind—
by AI replacing jobs faster than we can retrain,
by education gaps made wider by poverty,
by rural communities with no internet access in an age of digital everything.

So fast that conflicts arise from our impatience—
road rage escalating into violence,
keyboard wars replacing empathy,
Ukraine, Gaza, Sudan—conflicts fueled by years of tension, now exploding under pressure.

So fast that our want—our need—for money
breeds greed, and then corruption—
corporations prioritizing quarterly profit over climate responsibility,
public servants pocketing funds while children starve,
online scammers thriving on desperation.

So fast that inequality breeds jealousy and envy—
when influencers flaunt luxury while others can’t afford rice,
when billionaires race to space while slums sink in floods.
We scroll past pain and privilege in the same feed.

So fast that we create boundaries between each other—
not just borders, but algorithms,
that divide us into echo chambers,
where “different” means “enemy,”
and misunderstanding festers where connection could’ve healed.

So fast we exhaust ourselves—
burnout is a badge of honor,
rest feels like failure,
and self-worth is measured in productivity metrics.

So fast that we crave escape—
dopamine hits from TikTok,
instant validation from likes,
or retail therapy for wounds we don’t name.

But maybe…
we don’t need to move faster.

Maybe what we really need—
is to pause.
To feel.
To listen.
To remember that behind every post, every face, every silence—
is a human being.

And maybe—
maybe all this pain, pressure, and chaos
isn’t proof that we’ve failed,
but proof that something deeper
is trying to correct itself.

Just like the body gets fever when something’s wrong,
just like volcanoes release pressure built over time,
just like forests burn so they can renew,
the world too is trying to balance.

Climate disasters? The Earth pushing back.
Mental health crises? Our minds rejecting a way of life that's unnatural.
Political division? A sign that systems of power no longer serve justice.
Technological burnout? The soul craving presence over performance.

This isn’t collapse for the sake of ruin.
It’s collapse for the sake of reconstruction.

The world is not exploding because it wants to die.
It’s exploding because it wants to live right again.

So how do we balance?

We begin by slowing down.
By choosing depth over speed.
By learning to rest without guilt.
By remembering that compassion is not weakness.
That silence isn’t emptiness.
That limits are not laziness, but wisdom.

We balance by reconnecting—
with nature, with each other, with spirit.
Not just through religion, but through reverence.
Not just through ritual, but through presence.
Not just through systems, but through sincerity.

We balance by seeing pain not as an enemy, but a signal.
A message.
A reminder.

And we balance not alone, but together.

Because the end goal isn’t just survival.
It’s to heal.
To live better.
To build a world
where the fast can still run,
without leaving the slow behind.

Where growth doesn’t mean greed,
but grace.

Where progress doesn’t crush,
but connects.

Where the world moves—not too fast,
but in rhythm.

Together.

07/05/2025

“From Digital Battles to Real Ones”
This page used to be about games... pixels, maps, missions, and strategy.

Back then, we played to win. To lead. To grind. To build.

But over the years, I realized the real arena isn’t online. It’s right here... outside our doors. In our communities. In the quiet compromises we witness. In the rising prices, the silent frustrations, and the laws passed without our full understanding.

We live in a system that’s been designed to wear us down, confuse us, or make us believe that “this is just the way things are.”

But what if we dared to think differently? What if we started asking better questions... not out of anger, but out of clarity?

This page is shifting.

Not to rage. Not to divide. But to reflect, to question, and to stand in awareness.

I’m not here to claim I have all the answers. But I’ve walked long enough in silence to know something’s deeply wrong... and I’ve seen enough to believe that ordinary Filipinos still carry an extraordinary sense of right and wrong.

So if you're someone who still hopes for a better Philippines... not through loud noise, but through quiet strength, insight, and balance... then you're welcome to stay.

Let’s begin again. With open eyes. And steady hearts.

Maraming salamat.

📝 Why I Changed This Page
🇵🇭 This isn’t just about politics.
This is about your life.

The price of rice.
The long lines at public hospitals.
The struggle to find work.
The fear on our streets.
The future of your children.

All of that... traced back to politics.

But why does it feel like we’re not supposed to talk about it?
Why is it awkward, shameful, or even infuriating to some?

I’ve seen it happen... friends breaking apart.
Families falling out.
All because of different beliefs.

I want to change that.

🙋‍♂️ What is this page about?
A place to understand, not just attack.
A space for real questions—not shouting matches.
A home for people with eyes open and minds willing.

I’m not an expert.
I’m just a citizen... tired of being deafened, blinded, and silenced while we’re being deceived.

Here, we ask.
Here, we watch.
Here, we act.

✊ Will you stand with me?
If you’re tired of a rotten system...
If you want to make sense of what’s happening around you...
And if you still believe your voice has value—
Then you’re in the right place.

Welcome.
We are the watchers.
We are the voice.
We are the hope.