The MARIAN

The MARIAN The MARIAN is the official student publication of Saint Mary’s University, Bayombong, Philippines.

The MARIAN | LIVING WHERE THE TRUTH IS

VISION

The MARIAN is envisioned to be an independent publication that serves as eyes and ears of relevant events inside and outside the University, and an agent of responsible journalism among Marians. MISSION

The MARIAN provides opportunities for critical thinking, creativity, development of fundamental skills and appropriate values that promote ethical a

nd legal standards for campus journalism, civic engagement, and social responsibility. BRIEF HISTORY

The MARIAN is the official student publication of Saint Mary’s University and has existed for more than six decades. With the motto: “Living where the truth is,” The MARIAN offers its service to the Marian community and its readers through consistent distribution of publication materials, coverages of University activities, journalism activities, and achievements in press conferences. The MARIAN is a seven consecutive time Best Performing Publication in the Regional Higher Education Press Conference (RHEPC). Despite the pandemic that has changed the situation and has frozen the usual activities and competitions, it did not stop The MARIAN to continue producing its contributions. For comments and suggestions, email us at [email protected]

31/10/2025

| Day 31: Award

Parangal

Sa mundo ng politika, sino ang may parangal?
Ang may dangal? O ang siyang may k**ay na bakal?
Ang dangal ay hindi matatagpuan,
Sa kung sino ang nasa upuan,
Kun' 'di sa masa sa kalsada,
Sa kurapsyon ay buong lakas umaalsa.

Ang parangal ay para sa mga nakatataas sa sistema,
Ang mga nasa taas ng herarkiya,
Sa mga may kapangyarihan,
Sa mga pinanganak na may pilak sa bunganga.

Hindi nakahain sa masa na lumalaban sa kalsada,
Na bitbit ang pag-asa,
Na sana may harina,
Sa tinapay na pang-alsa,
Na hindi lang para sa iilan,
Kundi para sa bawat t'yan na kumakalam.

Kapalit ng kanilang laman, dugo't pawis ay hindi parangal,
Kun'di panlulumpo mula sa k**ay na bakal,
Pinapaslang ang angking dangal,
Sa sistema na mapang-api, danas ang pananakmal.

Sa bawat parangal na iginagawad,
May buhay na pilit pinipigilan ang usad,
Na kahit anong pagdalumat,
Hindi pa rin makalipad, makaangat.
Ang mga pakpak na pilit binabali gamit ang k**ay na bakal.
Ang parangal ay hindi dapat gawa sa ginto o pilak,
O anumang mineral na binungkal sa lupa ng inang bayan.
Ito ay dapat minumutawi ng bibig,
Mula sa mamamayang nakakamit ng kaginhawaan,
Mula sa mamamayang ligtas sa karahasan,
Sa angking lupang tahanan.

Ang parangal ay simbolo ng panglilingkod,
At hindi ng pansariling pag-angat,
Ang parangal ay tunay na makakamtan,
Hindi sa pag-akyat ng entablado,
Hindi sa parangal na nababalot ng ginto,
Ngunit sa pag-angat ng buhay ng bawat mamamayang Pilipino.

Kapag sapat na ang harina,
Sa tinapay na pang-alsa,
Kapag may maiihain na sa mesa,
Kapag hindi na kumakalam ang sikmura,
Kapag maayos na ang daloy ginto,
At sa kalsada'y walang umaagos na dugo,
Kapag tumunog na ang dambana ng katarungan,
Maigagawad ang parangal,
Na kailanman di malulusaw sa hamog ng umaga.

Words by Hirayang Malaya
Art by RK


31/10/2025

| Day 30: Vacant

Walang Bakas

Dating pasilyong puno,
tawa ang bumubuo,
Alaala’y gumuho,
Anino mo'y naglaho.

Panulat ni Umaga
Dibuho ni Ernestine Taan


31/10/2025

| Day 29: Lesson

Collapse

As the heavy rain pours down, the water rises again,
Brown, murky, merciless— swallowing roads and lovely homes.
They promised walls that provide safety,
and drains to carry the flood away.

But the projects exists only in reports,
ghost etched in glossy brochures,
Speeches that sounds like echoes in an empty hall,
Numbers on a budget already bled dry by greedy hands.

The true flood is not rain.
It is the corruption—
Seeping deeper than the water,
Eroding trust, drowning hopes.

How many times must we learn that the storm outside cannot match the storm within the system?

The lesson was not always learned in school nor in books,
But in experience and memories—
In remembering who failed us, who pocketed our safety,
Who turned their promise into shadows.

Words by Thea D.C.
Art by Nomnom


31/10/2025

| Day 28: Skeletal

Ang Araw na Natutong Umiyak ang Laruan

May isang kahon sa ilalim ng k**a ko—puno ng mga laruan na si Papa mismo ang nagturo kung paano ayusin. Tuwing hapon, pag-uwi niya galing trabaho, inilalabas ko ang kahon na iyon at inilalagay sa gitna ng sala. Sabi niya, dapat daw marunong makipaglaro ang mga laruan, hindi lang basta inaabala. Kaya tinuruan niya akong bigyan sila ng pangalan, ng kwento, ng mga lihim.

“Si Soldier,” sabi ni Papa, “ang tagapagtanggol mo.”
“Si Bunny,” sabi ko naman, “ang laging umiiyak.”

Minsan, nagsimula kaming magtayo ng fort gamit ang kumot. Madilim sa loob pero ligtas. Sabi ni Papa, doon daw nagtatago ang mga laruan kapag gabi. Sa tuwing pinapasok ko siya sa loob, naririnig kong bumubulong siya ng mga kwento—mahina, parang hangin, parang dasal.

Madalas akong nakaupo sa sahig habang si Papa ay naninigarilyo sa tabi ng bintana. Sa tuwing nauubos ang sigarilyo, lumalapit siya sa akin. Tinuturuan niya akong gumawa ng mga bagong laro.

Hanggang sa isang gabi, dumating si Mama. Maingay ang kanyang yabag. Malakas ang kanyang tinig. “Sino na namang iniiyakan mo riyan?” sabi niya. Pero hindi ako sumagot. Nakatingin lang ako sa ilalim ng k**a, sa kahon.

Umupo ako at binuksan iyon. Nakahandusay si Bunny, si Soldier, at ang iba pa. At sa pagitan nila, may maliit na piraso ng sigarilyo—may marka ng labi ni Papa, at amoy na ayaw ko nang maalala.

Kaya noong tinanong ako ni Mama kung bakit umiiyak ang mga laruan, sabi ko,
“Hindi po ako ang umiiyak, Ma. Sila po.”

Panulat ni Ginoong Loto
Dibuho ni Gert


31/10/2025

| Day 27: Onion

Peel

Cut me open and you’ll see my layers,
I hope my smell lingers up to the tip of your fingers.

You get angry when i make you cry,
that’s the price you pay for seeing me eye-to-eye.

I’m sweet till you burn me to a crisp,
leave me rotten to waste my worth.

Between these skins is my soul,
hidden, and not for you to own.

Words by jojo
Art by Tatyana


NEWS | SMU raises alarm, opposition against corruption, miningIn response to what is happening to the country and the pr...
31/10/2025

NEWS | SMU raises alarm, opposition against corruption, mining

In response to what is happening to the country and the province right now, Saint Mary’s University (SMU) issued an official statement condemning all kinds of corruption and opposing any form of mining, October 27.

In its statement, SMU, in communion with the Diocese of Bayombong, denounced corruption, rejected destructive mining in Nueva Vizcaya, and encouraged the engagement of communities and government leaders in ecological education (Laudato si', 210) to foster ethical governance and a commitment to implementing sustainable practices to achieve transparent governance, safeguard human rights, and secure long-term stewardship.

Moreover, SMU asserted that corruption affects everything and hinders the university's core values of excellence, communion, innovation, social responsibility, and the fulfillment of Christ's mission.

“Corruption destroys public trust and weakens government institutions by undermining public offices, causing them to serve personal or political interests rather than the people. As a result, both Filipinos and foreigners lose faith in leaders, the justice system, and even in the possibility of change, creating a culture of cynicism and hopelessness,” the statement read.

Moreover, the university stressed that environmental degradation is a manifestation of corruption, declaring that these mining activities violate both the lands and rights of the indigenous people.

“Corruption of the environment leads to the misappropriation of natural resources, mining, and pollution; such practices invade upon the ancestral domains and rights of indigenous communities that have long been stewards of the environment, the Watershed Haven of Cagayan Valley, our Beloved Nueva Vizcaya,” the statement furthered.

—

Report by Arjanelle Agustin
Pubmat by Tristan Roa


| SMU suspends classes, work at noon tomorrow, October 30Following the advisory of Governor Jose “Jing” Gambito, Saint...
29/10/2025

| SMU suspends classes, work at noon tomorrow, October 30

Following the advisory of Governor Jose “Jing” Gambito, Saint Mary’s University (SMU) management announced the suspension of classes and office work in all levels starting at 12 noon tomorrow, October 30.

Moreover, classes and work will resume on November 3 after the Undas break while Thursday afternoon examinations are rescheduled to the afternoon of the same day.

Report by Chynna Almario


26/10/2025

| Day 26: Puzzling

The Puzzler

Perhaps we are puzzles that aren't meant to be solved. As if we are riddles left unfinished, lost in time. That with our every attempt to uncover our own mysteries, we are left with more questions to ponder, more doubts to fill in the hunger, bleeding with the sole purpose of knowing what we are, what we should be.

With each day feeling like my mind's scattered like jigsaw pieces onto the floor—worn out, their colors fading, conforming to the monochromatic scenes we are conditioned to see. I kept trying to fit them together, even though deep down I knew none of them belongs to a single picture. Yet I still turn them, searching for edges that seem to connect, satisfied with the sound of each piece clicking into fitting.

But even if we force things to fit the frame, there is no point in becoming something that isn't supposed to be. Even if desperation calls for it, we must understand that every puzzle piece has a part to fill in a picture. Slowly, in the silence I dreaded the most, I undid myself. Scrambling my fragments that in the hopes of tearing it down I'll be able to fit the right ones in time.

But no matter how many times I try, it still refuses to fit. The pieces don't match, and every time I try to restart, I feel less and less whole. So, I let them drift on their own and wait for the edges to connect like how thoughts eventually meet their supposed endings. For perhaps, we are puzzles that were never really broken—that maybe it was only waiting for us to stop trying to solve what was already whole and that forcing a strange piece breaks the frame. That the picture I was looking for have been in front of me all along, I only have to lift my head away from the scattered pieces to see that the pieces that I have in me are enough, I am shifting, becoming, but I am whole.

—

Words by kaelumico
Art by Chitchirya


26/10/2025

| Day 25: Inferno

Every Beating Pulse Is Yours

Blasphemies whispered into the desolate night,
I seize the searing forbidden sins of Eve,
My soul consumes itself, burning for light,
Utterly desperate to believe.

Hunger so carnal, it mocks every vow,
Mistaking your neck as a chalice,
A sacrament where our souls lie now,
Baring my teeth to the scorching malice.

I found pure virtue, too bland,
a bloodless draught I fiercely spurn,
I chose your ruins—fevered, crushed, damned,
For the only hell where I would gladly burn.

I am half a person-half a lover,
half of the brittle truth I carry,
Of the forever that was supposed to last,
For the aching memories that we bury.

When I tasted the bitter copper of our lies,
of the corrosive residues of our alibis,
Felt the sins move beneath my skin,
a serpent coiling, waiting to begin.

When I traded heaven,
for the hell in your eyes,
and welcomed every scar,
of your wicked desires,

Where passion and pain,
shared the same name,
feeding the sacrificed beasts,
I’ve come to claim.

Of our stolen moments,
that lead to glances too brief,
and leaving the heavy weight,
of all our unsaid grief.

For saint or for sinner,
both were equally vile,
trading salvation,
for this burning trial.

For I’d rather be the embers,
the fragments of your flames,
than a ghost eternally damned,
to whisper your name.

Allow the atoms to break and crack,
for the fragile moments to splinter,
Because in this enduring, I scream,
the final embers, the lasting cinders.

So let the flames rise around us,
let judgement be pronounced,
When we finally shatter,
when the last bell rings its sound,
My sins will feed your flames,
without doubt, without shame.

—

Words by imma
Art by Chitchirya


PHOTOS OF THE MONTH ILAW ANG PUHUNAN. Sa pagsapit ng dilim patak ng alas sais, sabay-sabay na nagigising ang liwanag sa ...
26/10/2025

PHOTOS OF THE MONTH

ILAW ANG PUHUNAN. Sa pagsapit ng dilim patak ng alas sais, sabay-sabay na nagigising ang liwanag sa bawat sulok ng kanto—mga ilaw na saksi sa laban ng bawat mamamayan tulad ng mga naglalako, nag-aabang at pumapasada na bumubuhay sa katahimikan ng lansangan, umaraw man o umulan.

Subalit, hindi matatakpan ng kaliwanagan ang dilim ng mga nakaupo sa trono ng kasinungalingan—mga nabubuhay sa pamamagitan ng pagbubulsa ng kaban habang ang bayan ay nagugutom at nilalamon ng kahirapan. Sa mga kalyeng dapat ay tahanan ng pag-asa, mas nasisilayan ang pagod kaysa pag-asa at mas rinig ang gutom kaysa tinig.

—

Panulat nina Leira Layno at Avril Rombaoa
Litrato nina Avril Rombaoa at Mikaela Robino


26/10/2025

| Day 24: Rowdy

Seven Years and Still No Ring

I have always been asking myself: shall I stay a little longer, or shall I take a step away? I suppose this was never meant to work out at all.

Would it still work out, if your laughter filled the room while I sat across from you with a tear tracing my face? Would it still work out, if you gladly busied yourself in the kitchen while I just sat behind, quietly watching? Would it still work out, if you knew I feared wild dogs, yet you didn’t tell me there was one along my way? Would it still work out, when on my 13th birthday I went to the cinema alone, because you refused to come with me? Would it still work out, when I told you I couldn’t come to the gathering because I had no ride, and you didn’t even respond?

The truth is, I was not speaking of engagements, marriages, or the romance between husbands and wives. What I hold, I believe, is something deeper, greater, and something that wounds more sharply than what even a married pair might endure.

What I have is a friendship.

And so the question kept going on...

Would this friendship still work out, when after all these years you have become the very reason I cry?

I fear the answer is yes.

This friendship would not only work out—it would last forever.

It would last forever, because the sound of your laughter was even funnier than the lame jokes you cracked to make me stop crying. It would last forever, because you volunteered to cook us lunch and made me sit behind when I wasn’t feeling better. It would last forever, because even if you didn’t tell me there was a dog ahead, you were the one who chained it, so I would not have to fear being bitten. It would last forever, because you prepared a birthday surprise for me when you didn’t come with me to the cinema. It would last forever, because you walked all the way to our house to fetch me and you didn’t bring a phone with you to even inform me you were on your way.

This friendship would last forever, because every time I felt valued and loved by you, my heart cries with joy.

We don’t need rings to prove to the world that nothing can part us. We are not husbands and wives, bound as one, nor are we like them, to file for divorce when everything turns messy. Our journey may have been tough and rowdy, yet it has revealed to us one truth: a flower blossoms in its fairest form only after it has endured the heavy rain.

Now, together, we’re already seven years… and still counting.

—

Words by Nico
Art by Michigan


25/10/2025

| Day 23: Firefly

Dagitab

Balisa’t hindi alam kung saan tutungo, walang saplot ang mga paa’t halos gutay na ang blusang suot. Nararamdaman ang panunuyo sa lalamunan ngunit walang puwang sa isip ang pagtigil. “Takbo, Catalina, takbo!” Ang maliit na boses na iyon ang nag-uudyok sa aking tahakin ang kailaliman ng gubat. Natisod sa isang ugat dahilan upang madapa, bahagya kong nasilayan ang pag-agos ang pulang likido sa aking tuhod. Pinunit ko ang bahagi ng aking saya’t maingat na ibinenda, bagama’t ramdam ko ang pangangatal ng kaliwang paa'y isinantabi’t nagpatuloy sa pagtakbo.

Dapithapon nang makaramdam ng matinding uhaw, mabibigat na ang bawat hakbang mula sa maghapong pagtakbo. Alam kong malayo na ako mula sa lugar na iyon. Tumulo ang luha at ang mga hikbi’y humahalo sa lumalamig na hangin. Niyakap ang sarili’t nagpahinga sa silong ng malalabay na sanga ng Narra. Hindi ko pinili ang kinalalagyan, hindi ko kailanman pinangarap ang mangapa sa dilim at walang tiyak na patutunguhan. Pinalis ang mga luha nang may mga mumunting ilaw na pumalibot sa akin. Nabibigyang liwanag ang kanina'y madilim na kapaligiran. Unti-unti akong tumayo’t sinubukang abutin ang mga ito subalit sila’y mailap. Sa labis na pagk**angha’y sinundan ko ang kanilang liwanag.

Puting kisame ang unang nasilayan, nagising ako sa bangungot na nagpapaalala sa akin ng p**t at paghihinagpis. Ligtas na ba ako? Nasaan ako? Lumabas ang isang babae mula sa pintuan, may aparatong nakakabit sa leeg nito at may ngiti sa labi. Tila may tinik na natanggal sa aking lalamunan nang banggitin niya ang mga katagang “Ligtas ka na, Catalina, wala nang mananakit sa iyo rito.” Sa wakas, naramdaman ko ang paglaya, ang pag-alpas mula sa k**ay ng mga itinuring kong magulang. Hindi na ako mananatili sa dilim na tila tinatanggalan ng pakpak, nakagapos, at paulit-ulit pinapaalalang palamunin lamang ako. Natakasan ko na ang mga k**ay na dumadapo sa aking pisngi, ang mga sigaw na nakabibingi, at ang mga matang nak**asid sa ilalim ng kobre k**a kong puti. Dumako ang paningin ko sa bintana at naroong muli ang mga mumunting ilaw, alitaptap kung tawagin subalit sila ang dagitab na nagsilbing patnubay ko sa kadiliman.

—

Panulat ni Umaga
Dibuho ni Michigan


Address

A111, Fr. Godfrey Lambrecht Building, Saint Mary’s University
Bayombong
3700

Website

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when The MARIAN posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Contact The Business

Send a message to The MARIAN:

Shortcuts

Share

Category