CAPSUNIAN ECHO

 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐍 | 𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘 

"𝘏𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪 𝘯𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘢 🎶"

That line plays in the background, almost every day in facebook stories, and every time I hear it, I feel something shift. It hits differently when you’re carrying truths and freedom the world would rather ignore. People often ask me if I’m afraid to be a campus journalist, and I can’t blame them. The risks are real, the pressure is heavy, and the cost can be too much. But if fear keeps us quiet, who will speak? Who will inform?

Today, we commemorate National Campus Press Freedom Day, a powerful reminder that student journalists play a vital role in every institution. They are the voice of truth, holding the line for transparency and freedom of expression, even in the face of fear and intimidation.

Fear comes naturally when you carry a pen that can provoke power. People ask if I’m scared, and I would be lying if I said no. But the greater fear is silence, the kind that allows lies to bloom while truth is buried. Journalism was never about being fearless. It’s about standing firm, even when your voice shakes.

I entered campus journalism not to make noise, but to make sense. Every story I write still leaves my hand trembling. Not from doubt in the facts, but from knowing how a single sentence, if misread, can become a weapon used against me. This is not simply writing. It is walking into a room full of secrets with a match in hand.

In this country, the 1987 Constitution promises press freedom. Republic Act No. 53 protects our sources. Republic Act No. 10175 tackles digital harassment. These laws are shields, yet sometimes they feel like paper in a storm. No statute can fully protect those who threaten comfort with truth.

Even the seasoned fall. Journalists are red-tagged, sued, discredited, disappeared. I remember what Jacque Manabat said at the National Campus Journalism Convention 2025: “Lies will prevail if there are no journalists...  good journalists.” That truth lingers. Because when truth-tellers vanish, all that's left is noise, and in that noise, justice loses its voice.

We are more than students typing in classrooms. We are witnesses. Record-keepers. So if you ask me again whether I would still choose to be a campus  journalist, the answer is yes. Not because I am immune to fear, but because my conviction outweighs it. Belief, after all, survives longer than fear ever could.

To those who want to write stories that matter, do it trembling, do it tired, but do it anyway. Fear will always be there. Let it sit beside you. Just don’t let it hold the pen. The truth doesn’t need perfection. It only needs someone brave enough to write it down. Let's keep holding the line.

Editor's note: The views and opinions expressed in this column are not necessarily representative of the Publication's or the University's views and opinions.