The 2025 midterm elections came as a real surprise to me. The results turned out better than I expected, and for the first time in a while, I felt a quiet sense of hope. It gave me reason to believe that people still recognize sincerity, effort, and honest service.
But this story isn’t about numbers or rankings. This is about the journey—our campaign story—everything we went through and everything we learned along the way.
Even as I sit down to write this, my body still carries the exhaustion of the 45-day campaign. It’s the kind of tiredness that doesn’t go away easily, not when it’s tied to the memories of early mornings, long walks, and late nights.
But beyond the fatigue, there’s relief. We made it. We didn’t reach the top spot, but someone with no major machinery and no huge budget—just heart, history, and hard work—made it into the municipal council. That’s something to be proud of.
It wasn’t me who ran, but I poured out my time, energy, and belief into someone I’ve admired for years—someone who has spent her life helping others. She didn’t need to make promises, her track record spoke for her. And in the end, that sincerity won people over.
During the campaign, we visited more than 30 barangays. We walked, knocked on doors, and listened. We crossed rivers, climbed hills, and hiked through muddy fields. There were days when we started at sunrise and didn’t stop until late night. And still, what kept us going were the people.
I’ll never forget how residents in far-off areas welcomed us like family. “Kayo lang ang pumunta rito,” they’d say, smiling. That stayed with me. It reminded me why we were doing this. We weren’t just campaigning. We were showing up, for real, for them. We were doing what we believe public servants should be doing all along.
We met people from all walks of life—farmers, fisherfolk, tricycle drivers, solo parents, senior citizens, PWDs, daycare workers, LGBTQIA+ advocates. They opened their doors and their hearts. Some offered glasses of water. Others insisted we eat with them, or handed us vegetables from their backyard as token of support. These simple gestures meant more to me than any crowd size or social media share. That was genuine connection.
Of course, we also saw the difficult side of things. We saw poverty up close—people sick and bedridden without access to care, children running barefoot, homes barely standing. We heard stories of frustration, of government support that never arrives. Many of these places feel invisible, and we knew they needed more than just a campaign visit. They needed someone to fight for them beyond election season.
The night before the election, I saw communities staying up, watching out for campaign vehicles delivering groceries or cash
What saddened me the most was seeing how deep vote buying has become embedded in the process. Some candidates handed out cash—₱50, ₱100, ₱500—to people who’ve long felt left out and don’t know what else to expect from politicians. Some used ID systems to track who had received what. We even witnessed long lines in public areas, under the sun, or even the rain, where people waited for their “share.” And on the night before the election, I saw communities staying up, watching out for campaign vehicles delivering groceries or cash.
It hurt to watch. We couldn’t compete with that. All we had were flyers, our words, and the belief that people would vote with their conscience. Some did. Others didn’t. And I can’t blame them. When you’ve been overlooked for years, and someone suddenly offers you help, even if it’s transactional, it’s hard to say no.
There were also disappointments. People spreading false accusations about other candidates just to gain sympathy from the people. Local chat groups used to throw shade instead of ideas. But we kept our heads down and focused on what we came to do. We didn’t play dirty. We just worked hard.
Still, despite everything, I’m holding on to the good. We came in second, and while money might’ve secured the top spot, we proved that house-to-house campaigning works. That presence still matters. That people do appreciate candidates who take the time to listen.
This campaign changed me. It reminded me that politics is not just about winning—it’s about showing up, connecting, and standing by your values. It taught me that while the system still has a lot of flaws, there are still many people who want what’s right. Who believe that dignity and service still matter.
There’s still a long road ahead. But for now, I’m proud of what we accomplished. And for me, that’s enough to believe that change, no matter how slow, is still possible.
