IN nearly four decades of service in the Senate, I have worked under many leaders and through countless political transitions. I have seen tense moments and institutional conflicts, and periods of uncertainty that challenged the strength of our democracy. But the atmosphere today feels different. There is a level of uneasiness that I have never felt before — not only for the institution itself, but for the ordinary people who serve within it every day.
The Senate has always symbolized stability and democratic order to me. Regardless of political disagreements, there was always the belief that dialogue and the rule of law would prevail. That sense of security was shaken recently when events inside the institution forced employees to think first about safety rather than public service.
During the recent lockdown in the Senate, many of us remained inside our offices with little choice but to seek cover and hope that the situation would not escalate further. Some staff members wore earthquake helmets for protection against possible stray bullets. It was an unimaginable sight inside a government institution where employees simply reported for work as they do every day.
Over the years, I have traveled to places long considered among the country’s most dangerous areas — Sulu, Basilan, and Tawi-Tawi among them. Those missions taught me how to remain calm in difficult environments. I have accepted that risk can sometimes come with public service. Yet what troubles me now is not fear for my own safety, but concern for the many employees who have never been exposed to such frightening situations. They are ordinary workers, not people trained to respond to threats or violence.
What makes everything more alarming is that these events unfolded in an urban setting, within the halls of a democratic institution where people should feel protected. When fear enters places meant to represent order and stability, it leaves a lasting impact not only on employees, but also on the public’s confidence in governance itself.
As I grow older, I find myself thinking more deeply about the kind of country we will leave to our children and grandchildren. Institutions matter because they shape the future they will inherit.
Despite these uncertainties, I continue to hold on to faith and hope. I pray that our leaders will be guided by wisdom, courage and responsibility, and that our nation may find peace and unity in the years ahead.
