Feature article

The deletion of a campus publication’s Facebook page has sparked serious concern among students and journalists about the state of campus press freedom. What began as the removal of a single article has since escalated into a larger controversy involving alleged pressure from authorities and the disappearance of an entire platform used by student journalists to inform the public. For many students, the incident is no longer just about one publication—it is about whether campus journalism can truly operate freely within academic institutions. The issue began on February 25, 2026, when a campus publication released an article discussing a controversial political remark. Shortly after its publication, the article was taken down after the administration reportedly advised the publication to remain silent. What could have been addressed through dialogue instead evolved into a prolonged situation, as discussions between the publication and the administration dragged on while pressure reportedly persisted. The situation reached a critical point on March 10 when the publication’s Facebook page was deleted. On the same day, the editor-in-chief stepped down from the editorial post. Despite the seriousness of the issue and the growing concern among students nationwide, no official statement has been released to explain what happened. The absence of transparency has only intensified fears that campus press freedom is under threat. Amid the silence, the publication’s associate editor-in-chief publicly criticized attempts to suppress the issue. In a Facebook post, the editor wrote, “No matter how much your dirty hands persevere to dogpile on the truth and hide it, it will always come out one way or another.” The statement continued with a message directed at those who attempted to silence the publication: “You wanted silence because you thought avoidance would benefit you and keep the people’s eyes at bay, but that very same silence became the cause of this uproar. You may not acknowledge us, but you will hear us.” These words capture a sentiment widely shared among student journalists. Campus publications are not extensions of administrative offices, nor are they meant to serve as public relations arms of institutions. Their role is to report truthfully, hold power accountable, and represent the voices and concerns of the student body. Campus publications are not Public Information Offices. Their responsibility is not to protect institutional image but to serve the truth and the public interest. When institutions attempt to silence campus journalism, they undermine the fundamental values that universities claim to uphold—academic freedom, critical thinking, and open dialogue. Censorship within campuses sets a dangerous precedent. Universities are meant to be spaces where ideas can be freely discussed, challenged, and debated. When student journalists are pressured to remove articles or remain silent, it sends a chilling message that certain truths are inconvenient and therefore unacceptable. Such an environment discourages students from engaging in meaningful discourse and weakens the intellectual culture that higher education should cultivate. Furthermore, suppressing campus journalism erodes trust within the academic community. Transparency is essential in building credibility between administrators and students. When institutions respond to controversy with silence or suppression, it raises questions about accountability and damages the confidence students place in their leadership. Some may argue that administrative intervention is necessary to protect the institution’s reputation or maintain campus order. However, protecting an institution’s image should never come at the cost of suppressing free expression. Strong institutions do not fear criticism—they address it openly and responsibly. At this critical moment, universities must reaffirm their commitment to campus press freedom. Administrators should respect the independence of student publications and engage in transparent dialogue rather than pressure or silence. Students must remain vigilant in defending the rights of campus journalists, while faculty members should stand as allies in protecting academic freedom. A campus publication does not exist to echo official statements—it exists to question them. It does not exist to polish reputations—it exists to pursue the truth. Silence may attempt to bury reality, but truth has a way of surfacing. And when it does, the voices that tried to silence it will realize that the student press cannot be muted forever. – Mane TalibongPubmat | Shyle Unize Digal

Can love really survive without financial readiness? No—and pretending it can only delays the heartbreak. “Bahalag saging basta loving.” It sounds sweet, almost poetic. It comforts people into believing that love is enough, that effort can replace everything else. But reality has a way of exposing soft lies. Because at the end of the day, even a banana costs money. Even the simplest date—walking, eating, showing up—demands something from your pocket, not just your heart. This is the truth many avoid: love without stability often becomes suffering in disguise. This is not an attack on those who are struggling. Everyone starts somewhere. Everyone has seasons of being broke, lost, or still figuring things out. But entering a relationship while empty—financially and emotionally unprepared—does not make someone romantic. It makes them irresponsible. Because love is not just about showing up. It is about sustaining. It is about being able to give, not just take. There is a painful pattern that keeps repeating. A man offers time, attention, promises. He says, “My love language is quality time.” And for a while, it feels enough. But eventually, reality interrupts. The small costs pile up. The effort becomes uneven. And slowly, what once felt like love begins to feel like lack. And when lack becomes constant, it stops feeling like love at all. Some argue that expenses should be shared, that relationships should be equal. And yes, they should. But equality is not an excuse for incapability. A man who cannot provide even for himself has nothing to share. And asking someone to carry that weight in the name of love is not partnership—it is burden. There is a right time for everything. A time to build. A time to struggle alone. A time to become stable. And only then—a time to love someone without making them pay for your unreadiness. Because here is the harsh truth: love will not fix a man who has not fixed himself. This is not about rejecting “broke men.” It is about refusing to romanticize unpreparedness. It is about understanding that love deserves more than intentions—it deserves readiness. Because being called a man is easy. Anyone can say the words, make the promises, hold someone’s hand. But being a man—the kind who can protect, provide, and stay consistent—requires discipline, sacrifice, and timing. And until that is learned, love will not feel like home. It will feel like something that slowly breaks both people involved. – Mane TalibongPubmat: Alliah Nicole Garcia