I was surrounded by people, banners, and the color yellow. As I stood on the Epifanio de los Santos Avenue, or EDSA for short, I saw Filipinos reciting prayers together, waving their yellow handmade flags, and speaking passionately about what was going on. Many people also raised their hands constantly, forming the letter ‘L’ for “Laban” or fighting in English. From where I stood, I saw an endless sea of people covering every corner of EDSA. The street was crowded with over 2 million people who wanted the Philippines to be freed from the dictatorial rule of President Marcos. It has been over 20 long years of living under Marcos and 1986 was the year to finally revolt against him in order to restore the country’s democracy. I was a part of that huge crowd of protesters on EDSA, fighting for this goal and taking part in the People Power Revolution.

     Honestly, I didn’t even dream of actually participating in the revolution. I had my own problems to take care of so I didn’t bother taking the revolution seriously enough to joining the protesters on EDSA. Because I lived in a family of 8, I had to help provide for my family. In 1983, I graduated from the University of Saint Thomas and found a job at a financing company located close to EDSA. It wasn’t the best company out there, but it was enough to earn money for my family. I actually worked at the Romualdez Company, owned by a relative of President Marcos himself. Personally, I was never pro-Marcos or anything despite this connection to him. All that mattered to me was the job.

However, my financing career ended after 3 years on February 22. On this day, my boss suddenly ordered to shred and get rid of any transactions and private information in the building. None of us asked any questions and did as we were told. As I was going through the files one by one to destroy, I noticed that a lot of the files were connected to the Marcos family. I thought that the Marcos family must have done illegal transactions or something to have them want their files to be destroyed. I didn't let the curiosity get to me so I just kept working with my coworkers until we got rid of almost all the files in the building. I went straight home after work. I didn't want to have anything to do with that company anymore. Who knows what the Marcos family has been doing these past 20 some years.

     Having gone home earlier than my other coworkers, I didn't get the opportunity to receive the money the company was giving away to the employees. I was told later that the company opened up their safe and gave away the money that was in there to whoever was still at the building at the time. Even though this was a great opportunity to receive money for my family, I’m glad I wasn’t there to take the money. It wouldn’t have felt right for me knowing that there was a connection to Marcos and his family. After everyone went home, I heard the Romualdez Company was completely shut down, leaving me and many others jobless.

     The next day, I went out to try and find a new job. I walked along EDSA searching for another financing job but I couldn’t find any. The few banks that I visited weren’t offering any jobs either. By the end of the day, I knew it was time go home and tell my family the bad news. Low in spirits, I left EDSA and waited for a jeepney or a bus to take home. But while I was waiting, a woman came up to me and held out a calling card in front of me.

     “Um... sino ka? Who are you?” I asked, bewildered by her gesture.

     “Good evening, miss. My name is Amor Santos,” she said as she placed her card in my hands. “I need some help. Can you read and write? Are you observant? If yes, then would you be interested in becoming a news reporter? My company would appreciate your help greatly.”

     “Yes, I’m interested. But I’m not trained to be one. I’m probably not the right person to ask, though,” I replied, puzzled. Why would this woman ask someone random about becoming a news reporter?

     “Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem. I just need someone who can gather information on the People Power Revolution on EDSA. I tried asking everyone who I thought would be able to do it. But I guess actually going to EDSA in person is something most people don’t want to do willingly,” she told me. “It must be the crowds that overwhelm non-protesters. Anyway, I’ll give you this job if you’re willing to document the revolution at EDSA, miss... ano ang pangalan mo? Your name?”

     “Ah, it’s Luz Castro. And yes! I’ll do it. But... are you really sure you want to give this big of a job to a stranger?”

     “Of course! It’s fine with me. I’m not looking for someone with actual experience anyway. As long as the job is done, then all is well.”

     “Really? Alright, Ms. Santos. I’ll make sure to do my best.”

     “Good. Oh, thank goodness I found someone. You’ll start tomorrow morning, Miss Castro. Just call the number on that card whenever you found something newsworthy to report. And remember that tomorrow is the second day of the People Power Revolution.”

     “Alright. I must be blessed. You saved me, Ms. Santos. Salamat! Thank you!” With that, I smiled, shook hands with her, and walked home to prepare for the next day to come.

     On the second day of the revolution, I didn’t expect to experience anything special or important. I made my way down to EDSA and ended up in the middle of the sea of protesters. I tried to soak in this new experience before putting my attention to my new job. It was loud from the protesters talking and singing together. It was hot from the bright sun beating down on all of us there. It was overwhelming from the spirit and faith that can be felt from the Filipinos present at EDSA. At this point, I had no idea how to go about looking for something newsworthy so I wandered wherever I could and talked with whoever I saw to see if I could learn something new. Eventually, I discovered that Marcos ordered his tanks and soldiers to clear EDSA. I thought that these tanks would most likely come in from the north, I headed in that direction until I reached a barricade of nuns. They were all kneeling in front of Marcos’s tanks and soldiers, praying the rosary and protecting the protesters. With the tanks and soldiers so close to them, I was worried one of the nuns would get hurt. I was sure that they all were putting up a brave front, despite their fear deep down inside. Yet they didn’t budge or back away. After some time, the tanks and soldiers left EDSA. What a miracle! The protesters around me cheered and praised the nuns who protected them. They held up the “Laban” sign once more as the nuns kept praying, possibly for the safety and success of the revolution. I joined in the temporary rejoice of this day and reported my findings at the end of the day.

     On the third day of the People Power Revolution, I saw helicopters flying over the crowds of EDSA. The sight of the helicopter threw everyone off and into panic. I thought this was another attempt of Marcos to clear EDSA. I rushed to find a place I could hide safely but couldn’t as there were so many people on the street. My eyes stayed glued to the helicopter as the chaos continued. The protesters who were also watching the helicopter saw it close into the area of the two rebel camps, Camp Aguinaldo and Camp Crame. Observing the helicopter’s movement made me remember that two of the revolution leaders, Juan Enrile and Fidel Ramos, and most of the military part of the opposition were staying at Camp Crame. Knowing this and remembering my job, I ran quickly to Camp Crame to see if I could catch anything to report. I was probably crazy to try running towards a place that was under the possibility of getting attacked. Before I could change my mind, I saw the helicopter dive down into Camp Crame. I expected gun shots, explosions, and people shouting, but I didn’t hear any of that.

     “They’ve defected!” I heard someone say. What? Defected? What could that mean? I kept running towards Camp Crame but was stopped by a crowd standing by the gates of the camp.

     “Ano ang nangyari? What happened?” I asked out loud.

     “The helicopter landed in Camp Crame,” someone next to me answered. “Apparently, they’ve defected and promised to help the opposition! It’s the 15th Air Force Strike Wing that’s come to aid us!”

     “Talaga? Really? That’s great. Maybe the revolution will be over soon!” I stayed a bit longer to try and see our new ally, but left after no luck to report my observations of the day.

     On the fourth day of the revolution, Marcos held his own inauguration for himself after winning the snap elections against Mrs. Cory Aquino. I had a feeling that the early February snap election was cheated but no one could do anything to make him give the presidency to Aquino. Fortunately for the opposition, Marcos could never complete his televised inauguration since it was cut off by protesters of the revolution. In the hours that followed, I heard rumors that Marcos was facing his last moments as the president. To confirm these rumors, I headed toward the direction of Malanang Palace, the President’s house. Along the way, I learned that the US has been trying to persuade Marco to leave the Philippines and that many diplomats have changed sides, just like the soldiers who defected the day before. Everything that was happening during those last few days seemed to be in favor of the opposition. People were starting to realize that the revolution was going to end soon. We all felt this tension in the air, waiting for Marcos to make his final decision. He could either leave the country for good, or fight back to try and keep his position for as long as possible. By the time I got to the palace, there was a crowd at the gates shouting and trying to get inside.

     “He has left the country! Marcos has fled!” someone shouted at the front of the crowd. So Marcos finally left? I guess that was his final decision. The message was then relayed from protester to protester. In no time, I heard every citizen cheering, crying, and shouting with joy. The gates of Malacañang Palace were opened and crowds of people rushed in. I followed in pursuit and entered the deserted palace. Filipinos were shouting and cheering as well inside the palace. The only difference was that they were destroying anything that was connected to the Marcos family. Portraits were tattered, statues were broken, and many of the rooms were wrecked. I was sure that protesters everywhere were rejoicing in their own way throughout the country. At least in the palace, these protesters found joy in seeing the end of anything Marcos related. I took note of everything and left the palace in haste to call Ms. Santos. When she answered my call, I told her everything I had to say and waited for her response.

     “Well, Miss Castro. I’m very impressed with your work these past 3 days. You’ve been a great help to my company.”

     “Maraming salamat sa inyo. Thank you very much, Ms. Santos.”

     “Our newspaper has been at its peak with the inside information you collected. To tell you the truth, I have been personally relaying everything you have been reporting to me to Marcos himself,” she said calmly. My eyes widened, but I didn’t say anything. How was someone supposed to react to that kind of news anyway? Before I could reply back, Ms. Santos continued talking. “Don’t be alarmed. You didn’t do anything wrong, if that’s what you’re thinking. It was simply a message being passed along between you and Marcos.”

     “But why are you telling me all of this now?”

     “I just thought you’d like to know,” she remarked. “Your reports made the Marcos family flee the country.”

     “Wait... what? I made them leave the Philippines?”

     “Yes, Miss Castro. Your reports from the protesters’ perspective made him realize that his defeat was going to be inevitable. By learning about what the protesters have been doing during the revolution, Marcos knew that sooner or later, the People Power would prevail. He didn’t know that people from his regime were turning against him and it only made things worse for him when he learned that the opposition was getting stronger. Because of your report from yesterday, he was greatly considering the option to leave the country.”

     “I did that?”

     “Yes. Your work has swayed him to actually flee the Philippines. The final blow for Marcos was when the US urged him to leave. As you’ve heard, he submitted to the persuasive efforts of the US, protesters, and many diplomats and left. For good.”

     “Where is he supposed to go now?”

     “Sources tell me he’s headed for Hawaii, but we’ll have to wait on confirmation of this claim. Anyway, on behalf of my company and the country, we thank you for your help.”

     “This was no problem. I didn’t even know what my work was going to do. From the beginning, all I wanted was a job and to earn money. Thank you for helping me and giving me this opportunity.”

     “Well, then the both of us benefitted from this. Hmm... What do you think of a permanent job as a news reporter under me? I know you’re not trained but what you did these past 3 days show me that you’re dedicated and can excel in this field.”

     “What? Yes, of course! That sounds amazing! Ms. Santos, I’ll continue to work for you. Oh, thank the Lord. My family is now ensured a good life. Thank you, Ms. Santos!” I cried.

     “No, thank you for all of your work. I look forward to meeting up with you in person tomorrow morning. I will give you your first paycheck as well for your work.”

     “Same here, Ms. Santos. Thank you again.” I smiled, thankful for the blessings granted on my life and the future of the Philippines.