Somewhere in the mountains of CALABARZON, in the heart of Congressional Avenue, a kingdom glows vibrantly green. Not just in the color of their logo, but in their branding, façade (literally), and the “principles” they apparently advocate for. Green is clean, and they claim to be one, for all we know—environmentally, morally, even bureaucratically. But those with real eyes know—the cleanliness is all for show. It’s only skin-deep; even a gentle scratch will reveal the bones it conceals.

The first skeleton? Let’s call him Subject V, who always wears his on-brand polo shirt and manufactured smile to class. He walks the same halls as the other constituents oppressed by the status quo he thrives in; by the same constituents that lose their voice fighting against tyranny with their fists and pens. And the cherry on top? Subject V belongs to a dynasty—if you know what I mean. He favors the elite, tightens the leash around the poor, yet somehow finds sanctuary in a university—I mean kingdom—that preaches social justice. How impressive.

Then there’s this rule (with a name too long to bother spelling out, by the way), established to supposedly ensure neutrality in the student spaces and protect them from fraternities and sororities—I mean factions! Right, to maintain peace in the kingdom. Interestingly, this same rule already has a history of conveniently silencing those who criticize injustices. I remember not too long ago, a constituent’s bravery landed them not in a medal ceremony, but in administrative purgatory. Talk about red-tagging masked in a bureaucratic façade. So much for “faith, service, and communion.”

And while we’re here, let’s talk pesos. A proposal now sits on the Center on Hypocrite Edifier’s Desk: a fee hike pitched by the kingdom to further curse their paying constituents as if they aren’t already damned enough. They call it a “necessary adjustment,” but explanations as to where all these millions go remain as vague as a politician’s apology. I wonder—does that fee include transparency? And how much morality would cost, if so?

Beyond the glitz and glamor, the smugness of this kingdom, once sports, now dimmed a little. Well, I guess that’s what happens when you lose autonomy; you find yourself under a little more scrutiny, a little more regulation. Did it sting when you got told in the face that you’re not actually all that? Maybe the mainlanders were right when they called us the second-rate, trying hard, copycat version of them—if you know what I mean.

Truth be told, this isn’t just about the ever-rising fees, repressive policies, and godforsaken political figures. The essence of this is about how a certain institution situated along Congressional Avenue is forgetting why and for whom it was built.

For someone claiming to be for the poor and with principles rooted in the holy teachings, quite frankly, they’re doing a horrible job.

They can continuously attempt to conceal the skeletons in Ayuntamiento—I mean, in the closet—but with a vigilant public just as persevering to unearth the truth, no remains would stay buried. Here’s a bitter pill to swallow for the higher-ups: be accountable and embody the values you preach. Stop playing blind-and-deaf to their calls. Be student-serving, not self-serving. Until then, green-and-white would remain murky and aching to rot. Until then, green isn’t always clean.

Originally published in Heraldo Filipino Volume 39, Issue 2