CAPSUNIAN ECHO

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 | 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗠𝗧𝗛 𝗢𝗙 𝗦𝗔𝗥𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗦 

Even if you're not Neneng B, you'd probably say, "Ma, anong ulam?"

Yesterday at exactly 7:50 PM, the country heard a piece of news that barely made a sound on TV. However, in many homes where silence is louder than triumph, the news landed with soothing relief.

“Presyo ng sardinas, bumaba.”

Just another headline. Most people scrolled past it. Just another price. However, for countless families, that headline was a pause, a win, and a breath.

For the child who always asks, “Ma, anong ulam?” sardinas is the usual answer; for the mother juggling a tight budget, it’s a lifesaver—masarap kahit hinaluan lang ng miswa, itlog, o bihon; and for students in cramped boarding houses, it’s the go-to meal, shared with roommates, eaten with bare hands, and sometimes straight from the can.

Sardinas has many faces — ulam, sawsawan, sahog, sandigan.

Now, with the price going down, perhaps it’s a strange kind of blessing. Not one we prayed for out loud, but one we needed nonetheless.

Maybe it means one more meal for the child still asking, “Ma, anong ulam?” Maybe it means an old man in the province can eat breakfast and still afford his medicine. Maybe it means someone out there, who’s been counting coins all week, can finally breathe.

We don’t talk about it enough. How food becomes memory. How sardines remind us of our lowest, but also our strongest. The nights we endured. The nights we survived.

When someone opens that tin can and hears the soft click of the lid, it will be proof that even when the world gets heavy, there are still small mercies left to hold onto.