I found myself right smack among the rioters in Mendiola

He told me they were heading to Mendiola and would storm Malacañang.

“Galit na po kasi ang taong bayan, kung puro social media lang tayo, walang mangyayari,” said this black-clothed man with black full-face cloth mask. 

He was checking on his companion, another black-clothed young man sitting on the gutter who I saw earlier was limping as if his right leg was broken. I asked him if he was okay and if he would need some medical assistance. As to where to get it, I still didn’t know, but the nearest hospital could be less than 10 minutes away via tricycle or toktok.

We were only a few meters away from the corner of Trinidad de Ayala and Natividad Lopez Streets in Ermita, Manila, a little past 2 pm on Sunday, Sept. 21, 2025. Incidentally, the other side of Natividad Lopez Street is Daniel Romualdez Street, named after the ancestor of Martin, the recently resigned Speaker of the House. 

“OK lang po ako, napulikat lang (I’m OK, I got some cramps),” he said. A bystander asked for a selfie with these two black clothed young men. They obliged, complete with the activist “makibaka, ibagsak” raised fist stance. 

The limping guy later took shelter in a passageway of a nearby condo building and got busy typing on his phone.

I asked which group they belonged to. Are they from Akbayan, Bayan Muna, other familiar groups? The still ably standing guy told me they were members of the KKK, or Kabataan Kontra Korapsyon. I asked them if they were proceeding to the simultaneously held Edsa People Power Monument rally.

He said they already had members attending that one, and their intention was really to proceed to Mendiola Street, which has been impenetrable for I don’t know how long. 

A few minutes later, they would be among the group of rioters who threw rocks and empty beer bottles at the police barricade at the foot of Ayala Bridge. The rocks they got from a portion of the center island that they also destroyed, while the bottles they stole from nearby sari-sari stores. I know, because I saw them do that. 

The policemen walled in a portion of the bridge with a container truck, which, as of this writing, is still stuck because the tires were burned by the same group of these black-clothed young men who, I learned later, not only intended to storm the gates of Malacañang, but also burn the palace, like what happened in Nepal. 

I say they were more rioters than rallyists. They climbed the barricades and raised their flags with the skull-and-bones logo. Earlier, I saw their group at the Luneta Park with those flags. They were all over the place, mostly behind the makeshift stage. 

It was the Natividad Street side where these young people, some minors, came from. I was actually surprised when they picked up, without permission, the sacks of empty beer bottles from an alley near a row of sari-sari stores. They are called “kalakal” in Filipino, meant to be sold to junk shops. A barangay councilor interviewed later on television said they were unaware of what those minors did.

There were more violent incidents that followed on Recto Street and Mendiola. There were lootings and property damage by rioters at a Sogo Hotel. ABS-CBN News reported that hotel employee Honrado Amador recounted how the attackers “took our wallets, cellphones and other items.” The same thing was done in another establishment in front of the hotel. 

There was more burning of private and public properties, more stone hurling, and arrests made in the Mendiola area. 

I only saw these on primetime news, but having seen first-hand what happened in Ayala Bridge, I don’t know if I could call this necessary. Cops are people, and they have families whose homes in flood-prone areas are also affected. 

Cops are people, and they have families whose homes in flood-prone areas are also affected

As of this writing, the police said there have been more than a hundred individuals arrested. From the Ayala Bridge incident alone, reports said there were 30 policemen injured and recuperating in hospitals. Most of them have head injuries. 

There have been protests as large as this, like the Million People March held on August 22, 2013 at the Luneta Park, meant to abolish the Priority Development Assistance Fund or pork barrel. The Sunday rallies were intentionally held on the 53rd anniversary of the declaration of Martial Law, or what many consider, and I believe, to be one of the dark ages of Philippine history. 

The last time I joined a rally was decades ago. It was the Edsa Dos rally at the Edsa People Power Monument from January 17 to 20, 2001, which helped topple Joseph Estrada. But it was more of an assignment on my part. I was told by my editor to write an experiential story for the Sunday issue of the lifestyle section of a newspaper I was working for. 

The same year, I also remembered escaping a sudden hurling of stones and other hard objects along Ayala Avenue in Makati City during the so-called Edsa Tres, or what many regarded as the “May 1 Riots,” when “rallyists” were reportedly paid by shady politicians to protest the arrest of Estrada. Then again, I was not on assignment, but I was just one of the “usiseros” who accompanied a news photographer from our broadsheet.  

In 1986, I was only in Grade Six, studying in the province, when the First People Power Revolution happened

In 1986, I was only in Grade Six, studying in the province, when the First People Power Revolution happened.

With regards to criticizing corrupt politicians, government officials, and the usual suspects, I don’t even consider myself a keyboard warrior. I don’t speak out. I know there’s something wrong, but I’d rather let the “braver” ones do it. I’d rather watch stage plays and movies that tackle the ills of our nation.

But this time, I managed to join the Luneta Park rally. I went alone, contrary to the buddy system advisories by artist-activist collective Dakila and other groups I know of when attending rallies. Like millions of Filipinos, I just wanted to get this frustration, this rage off my chest by, like Vice Ganda, literally shouting “putangina” in unison with the rallyists. 

 

I had been an inactive member of Dakila, having joined them in their early years because of founding officers Lourd de Veyra, Ronnie Lazaro, and Leni Velasco. In 2006, I remember attending the literal cleaning of the Philippines, when they removed the moss and garbage and did some repainting of the giant relief map of the Philippines at the Teodoro Valencia Circle, formerly called Agrifina Circle, at the Rizal Park.  

Now, we are all doing the same, the cleaning up of the corrupt system in the bureaucracy, starting with the messed-up flood control projects.  

There is systemic abuse of power, but I still believe we are fighting in a peaceful manner. Echoing Dakila’s statement, as we “confront historical revisionism, resist systemic corruption,” we should amplify the call for justice through “creative expression and collective action.” 

The reason I was in the Natividad Lopez area was because of a weekend side hustle, basically helping edit a memoir of a former boss. It was a work day for me, so I failed to attend the afternoon events at the People Power Monument. Having endured the heat of the sun earlier in the day at the Luneta Park, I was also worried I might get sick if it rained in mid-afternoon on Edsa, which actually happened. Then again, I regret not taking the risk.

I failed to join the group from Dakila Collective because most of them had gone to Edsa, but because of some people I know, I managed to get near the stage. In the media area, I bumped into AP photographer Aaron Favila, who I used to work with in a pro-administration newspaper. There was also theater actor-activist Ian Lomongo, who volunteered as a member of the marshal team cordoning the stage. Ian has been based in a town in Laguna with his young family, but when we were younger, we used to drink a lot in the Malate area when he was a freelance theater-film actor. It was the same with Aaron, before he became a full-fledged health buff and vegetarian. 

There was also Ma’am Monet Pura, wife-manager of rocker Chickoy, in the guest artists area. Up close, I was able to hear actress Jodi Sta. Maria’s fiery speech, Chickoy’s short number, and a performance by a young group of theater actors from the University of the Philippines (UP)–Los Baños.

I decided to leave before the program ended. Under a palm tree just a few meters behind the stage, I bumped into couple Kris Lacaba and wife Kit, who were with a group of protesters from UP Diliman. They invited me to join them, since I came alone.  

I might remain a fencesitter most days but I know now, for middle-aged people like me, it’s time to join more street protests

Then again, I guess I will never be an activist. I just don’t have the fervor and willingness like people I know in Dakila Collective. I might remain a fencesitter most days but I know now, for middle-aged people like me, it’s time to join more street protests. It’s also good cardio, a healthy break for a smoker like me. Kidding aside, being one with a collective is a start. 

I stay most of the weekdays in the province, and before heading for the bus station at around 9 pm last Sunday, I took some selfies at the foot of Ayala Bridge. I asked one corporal who was busy with his cellphone what would happen to the container truck with burnt tires. He said it would most likely stay for more a few more days because they would need a crane or something like that to remove it. There were still dozens of cops, some in riot gear, and mobile patrols in the area. 

On a motorcycle ride to the bus station, we passed by the Edsa People Power monument and there were more riot cops, probably having an evaluation meeting on what happened that day. Out of boredom, I asked the rider who he voted for in 2022. He said he went for the Leni-Kiko tandem. I told him I did, too. 

After talking about some mundane topics, he said, “Pero OK rin yung ginagawa ni BBM, bukod dito sa pag-expose ng mga kurap na taga DPWH at mga kakuntsabang kontraktors, biruin mo napakulong nya si Digong at si Quiboloy.”

There you go, 2028.

I thought, maybe, just maybe, next time I join rallies, I should also wear black clothes with a full face mask. I need more action-filled cardio exercise under the sun.