The country’s best writers and cultural institutions paid homage this year to the 100th anniversary of the late National Artist Nick Joaquin. Ironically, had Joaquin been around, he might never have allowed the tributes and accolades given in his honor. Or maybe, he would, but at great discomfort. Said writer Jose ‘Pete’ Lacaba, “Sinasabi sa amin ni Nick pag dumadalaw kami sa mga burol ‘ayaw ko ng mga tribute-tribute. Ibalot niyo na lang ako sa banig, itapon niyo ako sa Pasig River.’ Pero tinatanggap din naman niya pag binigyan siya ng award [Nick would tell us whenever we were in a wake, ‘I don’t like tributes. Just wrap me in a mat and throw me in the Pasig River. But he still would accept every time he is given an award].”

Eight years ago, Rosario “Chat” Lachica, 58, made her first visit to the Libingan ng mga Bayani. She was there to pay her last respects to National Artist Nick Joaquin who died in his sleep on April 29, 2004.

Europe, the seat of everything that was grand, powerful, and prosperous, was caught in the teeth of the First World War, the year Nicomedes Márquez Joaquín was born on May 4, 1917. It was half a world away from a boy who would emerge half a century later as one of the greatest literary minds in a poor and exploited country still caught in its own, long drawn-out war of independence in 1917.

It’s a four-year-old book of poetry—a slim book, all of 90 pages, with 55 poems published in 2022, ready to be read and absorbed. And for English-proficient third-millennium Filipinos—whether aspiring for comfort or already living in ease—the images spun by 16 of the 55 poems hark back to a time beyond their consciousness. That is why Jim Pascual Agustin’s Bloodred Dragonflies can be the metaphorical blood transfusion required to pump poignant, visual, and painful cells of old memory into the veins of the unconcerned and unaware.

It was the type of news that jarred the senses because it was the first time it happened in the country. Government officials called it an “unprecedented tragedy.” On the morning of June 22 of this year, two students, aged 14 and 15, bypassed the security checks of San Jose National High School in Tacloban City. One student carried in his bag a Glock 17 pistol, the other carried a .38-caliber revolver. At past 9 a.m. both opened fire indiscriminately inside the school’s crowded rooms and hallways. And then the shooting stopped, but not after killing three students and wounding 20 more.

The Philippines Graphic, alongside the BusinessMirror, the Pilipino Mirror, and the entire ALC Media Group, deeply mourns the passing of Philippines Graphic Literary Editor Marra PL. Lanot.

Dennis Guevarra, the Philippines Graphic Ad Sales Manager, found himself in a fix. One of the major sponsors was having second thoughts about the amount of support for their upcoming event.

How did China make the leap from being one of Asia’s poorest nations to becoming a global economic behemoth—all in a little more than...

BY HIS own admission, the young Orlando “Orly” Mercado was “a dyed-in-the-wool, left-wing activist,” having organized his first labor union shortly after beginning his...

Angelic, with a hint of sadness and uncertainty framing an otherwise cherubic, smiling face, the boy is small, thin, amiable, and sprightly. When asked what...