As the 40th anniversary of the peaceful 1986 People Power Revolution approaches, I find myself looking back with both memory and reflection. My heart returns to those days when hope was reborn, and I ask: where has that hope carried us, and what has become of the promise of EDSA?
I was 15 years old, and a third year high school student at Santo Niño Seminary in Aklan when history unfolded in Manila. Though we were in the province, I remember classes were likewise disrupted in the days leading to the revolution. We had no cable television then, so the only lifeline was the radio. I recall how the entire huddled together, listening to the urgent voices that carried the news from EDSA.
When the tide finally turned, the seminary erupted in jubilation. There were tears, prayers, and a thanksgiving Mass. I was too young to fully grasp the long years of martial law, too young to understand the sacrifices of ex-senator Ninoy Aquino and the courage of his widow, Cory Aquino. But I knew something extraordinary had happened.
Five years later, by some twist of fate, I found myself in Malacañang. Who would have thought that the boy listening to the radio in Aklan would become Cory Aquino’s youngest in-house reporter? I went on to serve three more presidents—Fidel V. Ramos, Joseph Estrada, and Gloria Arroyo—for the next decade. Those years gave me a front-row seat to the unfolding story of democracy, and they deepened my appreciation for the leaders who carried the spirit of EDSA beyond the revolution itself.
It was Cory’s courage that inspired the people to fight until the end. Though she was in Cebu during those tense days, her moral authority and quiet strength became the symbolic heart of the peaceful uprising that ended Ferdinand Marcos Sr.’s 21-year rule. With prayer, courage, and the people’s faith behind her, she was catapulted to power as Asia’s first female president and an enduring icon of nonviolent resistance. Her rise carried with it the hopes of enduring change in the Philippines.
But EDSA was never about one person alone. It was about the nameless millions who gathered in faith and courage, and the leaders who chose country over ambition. Among them was FVR, the military man who broke ranks and stood with the people. His decision to side with democracy was pivotal. And when he succeeded Aquino as president, he carried forward the promise of EDSA with discipline, reform, and a vision of national renewal. Ramos remained faithful to the spirit of EDSA until the end, proving that the revolution’s legacy could be lived out in governance.
The peaceful revolution and the restoration of democracy could have been the beginning of something beautiful. But history is not written by heroes alone. It is shaped by the choices of a people—individually, collectively, imperfectly.
Forty years later, we now dare to ask the question: What happened? Before we even reached this milestone, the Marcoses had reclaimed Malacañang. The family once toppled by People Power is back in the seat of power.
This irony is not lost on groups like Bagong Alyansang Makabayan (Bayan). In a statement ahead of the February 25 commemoration, Bayan said President Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr. ‘s administration mirrors the abuses and corruption of his father. They pointed to dynastic rule, systemic abuses, corruption, cronyism, plunder of natural resources, subservience to foreign interests, ballooning debt, and widespread poverty and hunger.
Even within the Marcos family, questions have been raised. “Nasasayangan ako,” said estranged sister, Senator Imee Marcos, when asked how she would assess her brother’s presidency in terms of redeeming their family name after they were booted out of the palace four decades ago. Her words carried both disappointment and recognition of missed opportunities. And I can only hope that President Marcos Jr., in his own honest assessment, is content with how he has run the country these past four years.
As I look back, I realize democracy is not a destination but a daily decision. It is not guaranteed by one revolution, one leader, or one moment in history. Rather, it is sustained or eroded by the choices we make as a people.
We now live with the consequences of the choices we made. And still, the legacy of Cory Aquino, Fidel Ramos, and the countless nameless heroes of EDSA reminds us: democracy is fragile, but it endures when ordinary citizens choose to defend it.
It has been 40 years. The yellow ribbons may have faded, but the struggle for a better life and good government continues.#
