Today, I Vote

Thoughts on the 2025 Philippine Elections.

Despite today being declared a holiday, my alarm blared at 6:00 a.m. It’s election day, and I wanted an early start anyway. Still, I snoozed my alarm repeatedly, drifting between sleep and temporary wakefulness for the next two hours.

I finally got up at 8:00 a.m. By then, friends and colleagues had shared voting stories on social media. Among these were curated and well-thought-out lists of candidates, complete with explanations. As I scrolled through and liked each post, I saw how poorly prepared I was for today’s election. I had a few candidates in mind, but not enough to cover all senatorial and city election seats. I scrambled to piece together a list, looking through other people’s summaries and endorsements (thank God for these people).

Despite my lack of preparation, I decided to vote anyway. I put on a white top, maong skirt, and sturdy sneakers. I brought a trusty umbrella and a handheld fan because the heat was truly unbearable. I walked to my assigned voting precinct in Manuel Araullo High School. There were a lot of people, though fewer than I expected. Most hovered around the posted precinct lists outside each classroom, scanning for their names. My precinct was on the third floor, Precinct 2684G. At almost every turn, volunteers asked me what I needed. “Saan po kayo ma’am?” “Boboto po?” “Precinct po? Dito po kayo.” Upon reaching my precinct, there was no line, and I was immediately led inside. After confirming my name and precinct, I was given my ballot and a marking pen. I was done in less than thirty minutes.

My parents were coming to vote, too, so I waited for them in the hallway. I sat on a beat-up school chair and observed people come and go. I watched voters look for their precincts and volunteers direct them to their rooms. I opened my phone and scrolled through more photos of inked fingers and voting experiences. Some said it was smooth and efficient, others chaotic and problematic. There were all kinds of reflections about today. Some were tired and frustrated with Philippine politics, others cynical and just waiting to be disappointed. A few (or maybe many) chose not to vote at all.

On my end, I’m unsure how to feel about today. I’m pretty ashamed of myself. I’ve been harping on and on about voting wisely and exercising your right to vote, and here I was, cramming my shot at democracy. Truth be told, I hadn’t put much thought into this election. I hadn’t even checked my precinct until today. I was more invested three years ago, when I listened to election interviews, joined campaign rallies, and even created my list for my family to copy. Three years ago, I was hopeful. Hopeful for a better government. Hopeful for a better country. Hopeful that the election wasn’t just a meaningless exercise to put the same people in power. But after the 2022 elections, the hope dimmed. My anger gave way to a frustrated resignation. It felt less and less possible that we could make a difference. As I took my coffee this morning, our kasambahay and I discussed who to vote for. After some back-and-forth on the merits and ills of each candidate, she shrugged and said, “Sila-sila pa rin naman mananalo.”

I don’t blame our kasambahay for thinking this way. I’ve thought about that more than once in the last three years. Every election ends in heartbreak, and the succeeding years only bring more power to those in power, more suffering to those who already suffer. It’s an endless loop with different versions of the same result. Truly, what’s the point of it all? Do the elections even matter? Do our votes even count?

I have no true answers to these questions, but I want to believe in hope. As far as elections go, today was unremarkable, just another election in the history of elections. It probably won’t make a difference, and my vote will not necessarily tip the scales. But something about today stirred some hope in me. Maybe it was the people who still showed up today, standing through sweat and humidity to find their precincts. Maybe it’s the volunteers who kept everything running, doing their best to be helpful. Maybe it was realizing that yes, we still deserve more than this. We are a hurt, broken, and struggling nation, but we still deserve more than this. And maybe it will take more than one vote, and perhaps more than one or even ten elections. But maybe hope is built from all these maybes, these minuscule moments when we glimpse a bit of the good, and wish there was more of it. Or when we come face-to-face with the wrong and wish we could destroy it. Of course, these wishes take more than just multiplying the good and obliterating the wrong, but isn’t this where all hope begins?

For these tiny moments, I continue to hope. And with this hope, I continue to vote.

Inked.