No Valentine’s Day for Rosa

The woman’s name was Rosa. 

Every single day, she wears the same tattered green shirt and the usual dirty pair of shorts. On some days, she wears a defeated smile on her face.

She is lost, but she calls Taft Avenue her home.

I believe Rosa and I found each other at the same time. She was sitting near a booth that revealed the words “Do we really need the Lord in our life?” with her arms outstretched, desperately begging for help in a sea of strangers. 

Sitting on the same spot for hours, she did not only find herself in the company of speeding cars and starving people but also by floating paper hearts and silhouettes of cupid behind store windows.

In ordinary language, it was a friendly reminder that Valentine’s season was in the air. Seeing her distress, I approached her and offered her a piece of bread that I brought along with me that evening.

She turned her distraught gaze to me, accepted what I had to offer, and muttered something. I did not hear the words clearly, but I did see how her lips quivered.

“Salamat, hijo.” she said. (Thank you, child.)

Lost for the proper words to say, I tried to flash a smile and told her that it was no trouble. It was Valentine’s season after all.

What Valentine’s?
Her expression that followed made me realize that I took a wrong direction as she threw me a muddled look that made her message clear. She tried to pronounce the word herself, but eventually admitted that she wasn’t really aware of what Valentine’s was all about. She tried to forget.

I told her it was a celebration. But the only celebrations she knew were Christmas or Pasko, and the New Year or Bagong Taon since she grew up enjoying the cold months back in her province. 

She hears about Christmas every year when she goes to Malate Church to ask for spare change from random churchgoers and to kneel outside the gates, praying for forgiveness and salvation.

She acknowledged seeing street vendors selling bloodshot roses and heart-shaped balloons every February, but she immediately dismissed the idea of celebrating romance and affection. Around 15 years ago, she said, she gave a man a chance and let love in, but a quarrel over another woman tore them apart. 

No more happy endings?
Rosa gave up on her happy endings and decided that her heart was not worth the fight when she realized the bigger problems she had to face. After all, how can she think of love when she had her own stomach to feed?

It was in that fleeting moment when I saw how Rosa forgot about the world and, for a time, the world forgot about her, too. 

Every time I remember her, it’s so easy for me to see how Rosa and I lived in the same world; although, we find ourselves in 2 different realities. 

When love is the question, a better shot at life seems to be her only answer.

While some people simply desire to be spared from the season’s solitude by jokingly removing the 14th day of February from their calendars, life merely goes on for Rosa and a million others who share the same story in the streets. (Read: Fallen ‘heroes’: OFWs turned hungry and homeless)

In between the snapshots of Rosa’s seemingly unromantic life, people continue to move forward. Friends still resent being single, a nation keeps its eyes glued to celebrities being beaten up, and faulty killer buses still pave the rocky roads.

We are born into this world, make sense out of our situation, and this country sustains another generation. Behind all other concerns, there are stories of daily struggle and survival that do not make it to the front page. They are not only tucked away with scrap papers, but they are buried underneath some of our own petty and seasonal disappointments as well. 

One need not to second guess to know that Rosa’s plight is not a Valentine’s story.

The bigger story

It is not just Rosa’s story for it is impossible to appreciate one part without having a sense of the whole. It is the story of people who are still wired for change and demand more – not for their own selves but for others. It is also about people who are disheartened by all the hits and misses, yet have already outgrown apathy as an option. 

Perhaps, Rosa’s story could serve as a reminder that we need to both learn and unlearn certain things.

For one, it reminds us to learn how to locate ourselves in the bigger picture. People cannot simply roam the streets of Manila without seeing what it means to have a life in this country. The more we learn about the bigger story we are all in, the more we may want to do something about it.

It then calls us to unlearn how to privilege our own realities to strive for change. Going beyond the frustrations we encounter – from petty Valentine’s Day woes to a nation’s culture of corruption – Rosa’s story is there to reiterate the importance of knowing where we can stand to take action.



In a world where it is increasingly easy to become voiceless, I do not claim that I made a big difference nor do I seek to glorify the act of almsgiving as the only solution to our inequalities. After all, a piece of bread won’t go a long way for a woman like Rosa. 

As she concluded her story with a faltering tone, I somehow understood my situation in the context of her own. 

The following day, I returned to the same spot where I found her. She was gone. Something tells me she is covering the distance of Taft Avenue with her bare feet. Between those scorching steps on the pavement, perhaps, she is trying to forget the season and the world.  

But when she comes back to her senses and remembers the world all over again, I can only hope that the world hasn’t forgotten about her, too. – Rappler.com

John Patrick Allanegui is a master’s candidate focusing on military sociology at the Ateneo de Manila University. He is the managing editor of Verstehen. Follow him on Twitter @JohnAllanegui