Are You Man Enough to Cook?

Isquando de la Cabornit. Ever heard of this? If you did, then maybe we’re siblings.

It is my dad’s specialty. Not even the finest restaurant in town or the grandest hotel in the country could ever equal this sumptuous treat. It’s a dish that comes with a history of obscure beginnings and relative endings.

We are a family of cooks. Napoleon Bonaparte would be honored to have us in his army. Baking is my sister’s forte. Her apple cobbler and cinnamon rolls are to die for! Pasta and meals are mine. I can cook up a storm in a jiffy. Mom is great on both worlds. My brother? He’s my father’s protégée. Dad is the cast iron chef and when he cooks, expect it to be the best!

I’m going to cook tonight. Let me show your mom who’s the king when it comes to the kitchen, he jokingly said as he showed the family out to the living room. You got to lord it over my Tatay to make my mom know that indeed she’s the queen of his heart.

He’s not just famous for his Isquando de la Cabornit but for his Soup Number Five, too. I remember the first time he asked my mother to cook it. My mom was horrified. For the record, Soup Number Five tastes good but you got to have the balls to eat this. It’s a soup that has earned notoriety through the years.

How do you eat a cow’s testicles without ending up entertaining Freudian thoughts?

A taste of this soup can make you feel elated, not so much because of the hype they have put into the idea that it’s an aphrodisiac. Actually, it’s more of a culinary treat. The contrasting flavors tickle your senses like no other. It’s definitely a hot stuff.

I was nine years old and being the youngest in the family, I get the chance and opportunity to sit beside him and be useful. Useful means I get to chop the ingredients according to the chef’s specifications. Eat no onions nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath. I guess my dad is no fan of Shakespeare because the heavenly smell of sautéed garlic and onions soon wafted throughout the house. Lilies of the kitchen as they are known, garlic and onions would always time and again grace our adobos during rainy days, sprinkled lavishly over some peanuts or at times just fried and eaten like chips ahoy.

Soon, he adds the major ingredients. I watch him carefully as he goes about the kitchen. He hums a lively tune as he cooks. Until now, I can still hear him sing his favorite rendition of Matt Monro and Frank Sinatra songs. I didn’t pay attention to the fact that his voice is as bad as a broken record. For me, it’s as good as it gets.

After sometime, Tatay tasted his masterpiece and looked at me with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Everything’s done princess. Fix the table and call everybody. Eating together is a family tradition. Standard rule at home. Nobody eats unless everyone is present. No late comers for dinner or else we all end up hungry. Call it slightly military style but we learn discipline that way.

Our dinner was superb. Along with boiled okra dipped in soy sauce and calamansi, some broiled fish and dad’s Isquando de la Cabornit, we ate heartily that night. Compliments to the chef. After dinner, my sister washed the dishes. My brother wiped the table. I swept the floor for some crumbs. Nanay and Tatay drank their coffee. I sat beside the chef and asked him, Tay, what’s the name of your recipe? Nanay gave him a surreptitious glance as he answered, Isquando de la Cabornit. Sounds funny, right? It’s neither Spanish nor a French cuisine. It’s certainly not Filipino either. But it sure sounds like fine dining to me. Until now, I’ve never found the recipe anywhere else but inside my cherished childhood memories of my dad’s cooking abilities.

I always prefer home cooked meals. Served piping hot. Delicious aroma that fills your nostrils. Aaahhh! Just heavenly. I’m actually salivating at the moment with the thought that only four weeks left and I’ll be home. I already called my sister yesterday to let her know that I’m eager to witness her baking prowess once again. The moment I step right out of the airport, I’d throw my arms around her and ask my favorite question. What did you cook for me? Your cinnamon rolls are sitting nicely at the oven. Your veggies and guinataang tilapia are ready. I feel blessed. God is good to me. He gives me a sister who never leaves me hungry and makes all my gastronomic wishes come true.

I have ventured into cooking myself. With a history book on one hand and a spatula on the other, I’m sure we can make baking and cooking an interesting subject. I don’t view cooking as a chore. It’s always an art and it should go beyond traditional. The extra oomph that goes with it matters a lot. Put a little more love and I’m sure it would always taste good.

Oh,by the way. I remember it now. Innards. That’s what they call it. Dad’s infamous Isquando de la Cabornit is borne out of a pig’s entrails. It seems like it may not be much of a food but you got to taste it before you make your judgment. For us his children, the love that goes with it makes it special.

I don’t know about the rest but I have great respect for men who know how to cook and who are unabashed of that fact. Truth be told, I’m quite partial to those men who have talent in that department. It may not be mutually exclusive but I think they are more independent because they can take care of themselves.

What’s more? Men who cook are sexy. Period.

I am a Filipina

I am the wife and the virgin
I am the mother and the daughter
I am the arms of my mother
I am barren and my children are many
I am the married woman and the spinster
I am the woman who gives birth and she who never procreated
I am the consolation of the pain of birth
I am the wife and the husband
And it was my man who created me
I am the mother of my father
I am the sister of my husband
And he is my rejected son
Always respect me
For I am the shameful and the magnificent one……


- 3rd or 4th century B.C., from the Nag Hammadi documents


The poem is an excerpt from the Hymn to Isis. Isis is a prominent goddess in Egyptian mythology. A goddess of rebirth, she remains to be one of the most known images of utter femininity and empowered women. Every inch a woman. Isis embodies the strengths of the feminine, the capacity to feel deeply about relationships, the act of creation, and the source of sustenance and protection.

Beautiful. This was the first thought that came to my mind after reading the Hymn to Isis. Zoe gave the poem to me. Zoe is a friend whose passion for literary works and historical imaginations has given her a special place in my heart. Despite of the thousand miles that separate us, we never fail to keep in touch with each other. With the passage of time our friendship grows like the flower that blooms in the garden. Reminding ourselves that we must continuously live for others to show that life is beautiful despite of everything.

For Joyce, for being a woman like me. Short but meaningful, those simple words of dedication from her made me realize that this friend of mine has come a long way from her journey in life. No longer the uncertain and almost clueless girl that I met during my first year in college, she has emerged from her cocoon like a butterfly in a metamorphosis. I have known her story and I know life hasn't been easy for her. She has earned my admiration not only because she is a good friend but more importantly because she is an example of the few women I know who always stand tall with their head high in times of adversities in life. Never losing the courage and faith in their self and to the Man above.

Well-endowed and beautiful in her long curly hair, she exhibits a picture of femininity that has long earned admiring stares from men. Gentle in character yet she speaks with that great conviction about things that truly matters to her. Family, society and life in general. She has her own mind about almost everything under the sun. She married early but she confessed to have never regretted this decision. She has chosen a different path from us when she decided to marry her knight and forego the chance to be a career woman. When the rest of us are busy pursuing our master's degree and PhD, she is also busy pursuing a different kind of graduate studies, only this time with diapers, teething problems and marital blues. Despite of these things,however, she continues to believe in the beauty of her dreams. After all these years, she has not given up the idea of writing her ideas down and have them published. Tom, her husband, has been supportive all the time. She would often mused that to me. And in times like these I would always smile and just be completely happy for my friend. I guess, she has found her place under the sun.

Women have always held places of honor in ancient history. We have goddesses that personify the attributes of beauty, intelligence and courage. In the days when history was recounted around the family fires, people worshiped a supreme female creator. Beginning with the Neolithic period around 7000 b.c., women, revered as wise, valiant, powerful, just, and immortal, were honored.

They were called by many names, including the Great Goddess, Divine Ancestress, Mother Goddess, Creatress of Life, Mistress of Heaven, Our Lady, and High Priestess.

The female's ability to produce a child made her the object of the male's worship; women were the magical birth-givers and breast-feeders who nurtured the young. These words from Sandra Fold Walston's "Courage: Heart and Spirit of Every Woman", illustrates how some of us today have forgotten the beautiful gift of giving life. Not every woman can actually say that she has the privilege to experience both the pain and joy of giving birth. It is always an honor for a woman to be a mother. I think it is one of the most wonderful personifications of femininity. Zoe and all the women like her have shown that to me.

With a radiant smile on her face, she would always say that being married to a wonderful man and having kids are one of her greatest achievements in life. Now, how many women could actually say that? Because of this she has earned my utmost respect. Maybe she has chosen a different path from mine. But her faith in herself and the way she stands firm with her decisions in life are traits that makes her as a a woman of substance. Zoe is married to an Austrian and this simple fact often becomes the source of discrimination against her. She has often been accused of marrying her husband as a ticket out of poverty. Simply absurd if you ask me. She belongs to a prominent family and is a graduate of a well-respected university in the country. There are people who think (foreigners and sadly yes, Filipinos, too) that Filipino women who are married to foreigners are gold diggers. If I may say, some of us are just ignorant fools.

In the eyes of other people,Zoe is maybe an ordinary housewife. But she’s the best mom any child could wish for and the best wife a man could ever have. I am not saying this because I’m her friend. But her loyalty and devotion to her family is simply amazing. In everything she do, she do it with much love and affection. A fact that brings into mind the importance of family in the Philippine culture. Many women have decided to give up their careers and invest their time and energies in rearing their families. If that is their choice, who are we to question it? If we are proud of those women who made a name for themselves in fields dominated by males, why can't we be equally proud for those who have chosen a different path? I come from the opposite pole but I have never looked down on women who have opted to travel the road to motherhood and exchange their wonderful careers for it.

Sometimes some of us think that a woman could only be successful if she makes a name for herself in areas where men have dominated. Truth be told, yes, this maybe the trend. But there are other ways to show them that we are NOT just sugar and spice and everything nice.

Behind every great woman is herself. In many ways, the phrase captures the essence of being a woman in the Philippine society. At times, it is tough to go against the glass ceilings and having to deal with the multiple burdens. However, I have met quite a number of our own empowered women who were never afraid to go against the grain. Physically, emotionally and spiritually beautiful. Witty. Wise. Empowered. Because of them, I have always been proud to say I am a Filipina. . With all the Filipina mail order brides and porn sites in the internet, I still stand firm to my belief that our women are not just easy on the eyes. We have real brains and character to reckon with. It's not enough for us to say that we are proud to be Pinays. We should act on it. We should walk the talk. Those words become meaningless if other people cannot find something noteworthy about us.

This is not something new. Filipino women are regarded with respect as our history would tell us. Our pre-colonial social structure gave equal importance to maternal and paternal lineage. This bilateral kinship system accorded our women enormous power. Egalitarian relationship existed between the native Filipino men and women. Male and female offspring were both regarded as an important part of the family. Women had an honored position in the society which had been disregarded with the coming of the colonizers.

Like the woman that Isis portrays, women's multiple roles in the society are reflections of their resiliency and flexibility in the face of adversities as well as their power to breathe life and color in this earth. It’s not basically the question of who welds power over whom or who is the stronger sex or what have you. In the end, it all boils down to the concept of making choices that truly empowers an individual. A conscious choice that brings out the best in us and makes us a nation of people who are proud of our women and our culture.

I am a Filipina and I’m proud of it.

Habagat, Bulan, Amihan: What’s in A Name?

Amihan. Habagat. I don’t know why I like these names so much. Maybe because I am a historian and an artist by heart. Or maybe because I am truly proud to be a Filipino. Before, I told my friends that someday I would name my daughter Merry Ligaya Joy. And her nickname would be “Happy”. I tend to view life with that positive outlook. We only live once, so we better make the most out of it. Isn’t it cute? MERRY LIGAYA JOY. I bet she will never get the feeling that I have forsaken her. Okay. Don’t give me that look. I am joking.

What’s in a name? A lot, I guess. Kidlat. Daguob. Makisig. Amihan. Habagat. Nobody would say it’s of western influence. My name is undeniably of Western origin. Until now, I never get to ask my parents about this. There are a lot of women in this world named Joyce. Not to mention that my name is too long. Maybe when I was in Grade I, I must have missed the first questions in my exams because I have to write my complete name. Once, while surfing the net, I come across an article about a woman who was a victim of a heinous crime. Exactly. You’re right. Quite different but the spellings are exactly the same. Heaven forbids.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not writing this because I am not satisfied with my name. My parents gave it to me with good intentions. Otherwise they could have given me the name, “Kutimoy” because I am a premature baby. However, there are times when I wished that some of us should think twice before we christen our children with names that sounded like a curse from nowhere.

I wanted something that is unique. Something different. Something exotic. Not ordinary. So I wrack my brain for a good one. That’s how it all started. Amihan and Habagat were born while listening to the radio about the weather one evening. Amihan for a daughter and Habagat for a son. Bagani. Bagwis. Magayon. Lin-ay. Bulan. Bituin. Bulak. The list goes on and on. And why not? I have always been proud to be a Filipino. I wear it like a crown. In fact, I wear it like no other.

I wanted my children to learn the tales of Mariang Makiling, Pedro Penduko and the likes. Before they read Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys or Jane Austen, they must learn to appreciate Ibong Adarna, Florante at Laura, Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo. They must learn to hum and eventually sing the songs of the EDSA Revolution. Explore Philippines and Asia before they decide to take a vacation somewhere in Europe or the United States.

Serve their country. Enjoy and appreciate their own culture.

A friend laughed when I told her about this. I know there is nothing funny about the names. As a historian, I truly believe that giving such a Filipino sounding name is the way to go. I advocate it. There is nothing wrong with it. In the future, if I name my son Kidlat and my daughter Ma-anyag, so what? Being agile and beautiful are wonderful qualities. But just don’t overdo it. A friend of mine suggested names such as Talahib, Kulunaknit, Pagong, Palito, Tabatsoy, Budyawi and Bangenge. You don’t want your children to curse you, don’t you? Fine. They sound truly Filipino. However, envision your children’s future 10 to 15 years from now. They will be the butt of jokes somehow among their classmates. And certainly you don’t want your children to live up to such names.

Don’t name them Mamon, Kapog or Monay simply because you love to eat these foods. Or much worst name your child Pancit, Hototay or Batchoy because it smells and sounds so good. Maybe I am exaggerating. But I am truly honest when I tell you that I know somebody named as “Kapog”. The poor girl has to live with the name for the rest of her life.

I must also admit. I have my own secret to reveal. No. I was not named as Soup Number Five or Dinuguan, some of my parents’ favorite foods. Rather I was given the nickname of “Agok”. I am a sickly child before. I suffered from bouts of asthma attacks. Until now, sometimes I still do. Sisigok-sigok. That was how it all started. In the end, “Agok” was born. It might sound cute for someone who doesn’t have a single idea about it. But I’m telling you. Don’t you dare call me by that name. I am kind to animals. But in times like these, well, I think it pays to know a little about karate. Now here’s the tricky part. What if your partner doesn’t agree with you? Simple. Merry Ligaya Joy or Amihan? Choose the latter. Take it or leave it.

So, what’s in a name? A lot. Choose carefully. Think not just once. Not twice. But a number of times before you decide. The stakes are high. Eventually you’ll learn that your children will be thankful that you have chosen the right names for them.

Wanted: Pambansang Bayani ng Pilipinas

Little acts of heroism in our time is often ridiculed as outmoded. Often we assume we are too young or too old to become heroes

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Profound 'di ba? This is a quotation I have read six years ago sa aming paper. Medyo matagal na rin yun pero hindi pa rin mapagkit sa aking isipan hanggang ngayon. Naaalala ko 'to sa tuwing nakikita ko ang mga pagpupugay at pagbibigay galang ng ating mga Presidente tuwing araw ng mga bayani. Nakakalungkot isipin na parang wala nang halaga ang mga okasyong ito para sa isang ordinaryong Pilipino. Oo nga nman di ba? How can you think of these celebrations kung wala ka ngang pagkain na mailagay sa hapag-kainan mo, walang damit, hindi makapag-aral at walang trabaho. Mataas na ang presyo ng mga bilihin ngayon. Wala na yatang libre. There's no such thing as a free lunch. Lahat may kaakibat na presyo.

Iisipin mo pa ba si Rizal o si Bonifacio na baka magtampo kasi hindi mo naalala ang kaarawan o kamatayan nila? Syempre hindi. Siguro maintindihan ng ating mga bayani kung bakit sa bawat taong pagbibigay pugay, ilan sa mga mamamayang Pilipino ay hindi makaalala sa kanila, abala sa paghahanap buhay para may maipakain at maitaguyod ang kinabukasan ng sariling pamilya. Wala namang masama dun eh. We are living in a society which is family-oriented. Pero minsan, tuluyan na nga talaga tayong nakalimot sa mga bagay na may koneksyon sa ating nakaraan. Sabi pa ng bestpren ko, nagka-Alzheimer's disease na yata ang ilan sa atin. Gayunpaman, sabihin man ng ibang tao na walang kwenta pang pag-usapan ang mga nakarran, na wag na natin pang buhayin ang mga patay, let them rest 'ika nga. Baka kasi tuluyan nang bumangon si Joe at Bonnie nito pag nagkataon. Naniniwala pa rin akong marami tayong makukuhang mahahalagang aral sa ating kasaysayan.

Sino si Rizal? Sino si Bonifacio? May katuturan pa ba ang mga taong ito para sa isang karaniwang Pilipino? Ni hindi nga alam ng ilan sa atin kung sino nga ba talaga si Bonifacio at Rizal. Ang masaklap pa nito, lagi nating inihahambing ang dalawa. Uso pa ba sila? Tama na! Sobra na! Ito ang sigaw ng utak mo. Isipin mo na lang ha? Mula grade one yata hanggang kolehiyo magkasama kayo nina Rizal at Bonifacio sa paaralan. Sukang-suka ka na sa kwento ng buhay nila. Tapos si Maam, ang lupit!!! Walang awa kung gumawa ng exam, dapat i-memorize mo lahat, kulang na lang yata pati kulay ng paboritong brief ni Rizal itatanong pa sayo. Tuloy nung graduation, naipangako mo sa iyong sarili na putulin na ang ugnayan mo sa kanilang dalawa. Tama na yung minsang nasaktan ka. Buong gabi mong tinutukan yung RA 1425, tapos itlog lang pala yung magiging score mo sa exam. Masakit di ba? Ngunit ngayon, pagkalipas ng maraming taon, heto ka't nagbabasa tungkol sa kanila. Ang buhay nga naman ano?

Sino ba si Rizal? Sino ba si Bonifacio? Bayani ba kamo? Sinong bayani ha? Bayani Agbayani? Bayani Fernando? Fernando Poe? Aaaahhhh!!! Hindi mo na maalala ano? Sige, tumingin ka sa iyong paligid. Nakikita mo ba ang lalakeng nakasuot ng camisa de chino, may dalang itak na animo'y laging handa para makipaglaban? "Sugod mga kapatid!" Mga katagang hindi mo malilimutan habang ika'y nakatingin sa bantayog ni Ka Andres. Ito ang ating pangkaraniwang paglalarawan sa kanya.Stereotype image. Ngunit teka muna, nausubukan mo na bang itanong sa iyong titser noon na kung pagbibigyan ng pagkakataon, ano kaya ang gustong sandata ni Bonifacio, itak ba o baril? Ang walang kamatayang itak laban sa baril.... HIndi ka si Pilosopo Tasyo ngunit marahil alam mo ang sagot dito.


Pag-isipan mong mabuti, paano kung isang araw sa iyong paglalakad nakita mo si Bonifacio, ang tangan niya'y baril at hindi itak, makisig sa suot na barong tagalog at nakapantalon, suot ay sapatos? Tingnan mo ang monumentong ginawa ni Guillermo Tolentino, ang taong naglilok at humubog kay Oble, naiiba hindi ba? Makisig sa suot na barong tagalog, sa kaliwang kamay ay isang revolver at sa kanan nman ay isang itak. Hindi ko nga lang alam kung alin sa Mausser at Remington ang pipiliin niya. Marahil marami pa tayong hindi alam sa buhay ng ating mga bayani. Masyadong mataas ang tingin natin sa kanila, na talaga namang karapat-dapat ngunit wag sana nating kalimutan na sila'y tao rin. May mga pagkakataong mainit ang ulo, kumakain ng tuyo at sardinas( isa sa mga paborito ni Rizal), marunong tumawa, nagkakaroon ng utang, naglalasing, nagmamahal at nasasawi rin sa pag-ibig. Mga karaniwang tao ngunit sa kabila ng lahat ng kanilang mga pagkukulang, pagkakamali at kapintasan, natutong bumangon at nakita ang paghihirap ng bayan.

Ngayon, bilang isang Pilipino sana maisip natin na sa kabila ng pagiging karaniwang tao, tayo ay may kakayahan na maging bayani sa ating munting paraan.

Bread and Roses: Women Hold up Half the Sky

And I tell you, feminists do fall in-love……These words make me smile. There is something about it that captures my attention. It goes to say that in some ways I do belong to one of those untraditional women as what other people calls us. Why are we untraditional? Is it because we don’t fit the institutional stereotypes of women in the society? When a girl reaches the age of twenty something, people tend to ask the question when does she intend to marry, as if this is the only thing she wanted to do with her life. I don’t know why each time they ask this, I feel the urge to give a bombastic lecture. In times like this, I am always prepared to go into war. The animal instinct in me is awakened and I am tempted to practice my Pedro Penduko moves. I have to restrain myself and practice great patience. They don’t have the license to question my choices. I am still young and that I have a lot of things to do first. Time and again I always make it clear that I have nothing against the idea of marriage. It is sacred for me. I grew up in an environment where the concept of marriage and family are important. This is the reason why I just don’t want to make haste and plunge myself headfirst into marrying just about anybody who comes into my way. I'm maybe idealistic in some ways but I want to grow old graciously with the person that I intend to marry.

I want to enrich myself. Enjoy life. Learn new things. Study. Savor the beauty of nature. Paint my world in a kaleidoscope of dreams.

After all life is full of choices, it is not meant to be boring. If you choose to be different with the rest of the females out there, it’s a conscious choice. It is our choice.

I have read it somewhere that one should look the world straight in the eye. The challenge is to be yourself in a world that is trying to make you like everyone else. I agree.

I am not alone. A number of significant persons in my life share the same sentiments with me. My nanay is one of them. She is a perfect epitome of a woman full of strength and wisdom. Having been widowed at a young age, she struggled and successfully managed to send us all to school. I know that life for her was not that easy but she made it through the rain. I have to say that she is my living inspiration. Forgive me if I am biased but I think she is the best mother in the world.

March is a woman’s month. And there is nothing more fitting than to pay tribute and honor to the women in our lives. In the process of remembering and honoring our women, I would like also to express my appreciation to some of the other half of the population in this world. Sometimes they are referred to as “New Age men”. These are the men in our lives who shower us with love and affection, promote our advancement and never afraid to encourage us to reach our fullest potentials. They support our yearnings to explore the world and the endless opportunities it offers. They go by different names; father, husband, brother, son, boyfriend or simply a friend. I have known and met a number of men who fit this definition. I honestly love and admire them. They are in touch with their feminine side. Unconventional males. According to Julia Wood, a leading gender communication scholar, these are male feminists who think that in restricting men’s ability to understand and experience feelings , society has robbed them of an important aspect of what it means to be human. These are people who encourage men to get in touch with their feelings and to be more sensitive, caring and able to engage in meaningful close relationships.

Come to think of it, if all of my male friends are like them I don’t think I would have to go through lengthy explanations why we women spend much time to bond and talk about our feelings and emotions. Why we couldn’t just relax and hang out together like guys do. Why is there a need for us to do intense talking all the time. Why do we need to talk and pour our emotions. Unafraid of being transparent. Open and trusting without being naïve. We are realists. If we’re in-love, then we’re in-love. If we’re heartbroken, then we acknowledge the pain. If it hurts, it hurts. We are never afraid to acknowledge it. All it takes is a cup of coffee, a bar of chocolate and a good friend who cares to listen. Okey. Maybe we can add a box of tissue for a dramatic flair. And if that doesn’t help, a friend suggested that maybe a drink or two will do. The mere fact that you’re there, it’s already enough. We talk about it and after the storm, we move on. If we fell in-love and end up being hurt, so be it. It’s not easy to be heartbroken. It hurts like no other. Cry if you must. Shout if it helps to release the pain. But letting yourself bleed to death is another thing. Remember, according to Albert Schweitzer,

the tragedy of life is what dies inside a man while he lives.

When problems loom before us, what do we choose? Fight or flight? Choose the former and if you fail still, just think that sometimes we just have to learn some lessons in life the hard way. But life must go on. It doesn’t stop there.

Through the years, I have met inspiring women who make me feel that being a girl and a woman are one of the best things in life. My bestfriends, Nova, Wani, Heidee and my very own sister, Pearl. They are the likes of Gabriela Silang, Aung San Suu Kyi, Jane Godall and Oprah Winfrey, only younger. They are women of substance. Gentle in spirit but tough when the occasion calls for it. Beautiful inside-out and definitely successful in their chosen fields. Indeed, times have changed Some women have been stereotyped as an iron maiden. Does it follow that to be unfeminine means to be independent, competitive and tough? I don’t think so. Can’t a woman be beautiful and intelligent at the same time? Gentle yet tough at the same time? Women are perfect examples of grace under pressure. We are humans. Fully functional. We are rational beings and yes, I tell you, feminists do fall in love. Truly….madly…deeply…Believe me.

As we celebrate the International Women’s Month, let us make a difference. Stand up and be heard. Let them hear our voice. Ours is a continuing advocacy.

The ride ahead is still bumpy. Addressing the issues about the advancement of women and womancipation is still sorely lacking in other countries around the world. A lot is needed to be done. But hope springs well. I must agree and admit however that it is much easier to be a woman today. It’s the best time ever to be female, because we can have it all. We have real choices. We can be successful, have a good job, a family and at the same time enrich our lives in ways that celebrates the woman in us. This is not just an affirmation rather this is a reaffirmation of the significance of the persons who hold up half the sky. Breadwinners and fighters. These are stereotypes usually associated with men but today, it’s not an uncommon thing to hear these familiar words being attributed to women. I couldn’t agree more with Mao Tse Tung when he said that women hold up half the sky.

Each woman goes through the process of either being a friend, sister, daughter or a mother. No matter what category you fit into, celebrate the woman in you. Live. Love. Laugh. God has given us the ability to do certain things well. It is never too late to learn new things. Do something that makes you happy. Engage in volunteer works. Fall in-love. Have fun. Be funny. Be weird. Be who you wanted to be. Stand tall. Be heard. You are God’s masterpiece. Be proud, sister. The world is yours for the taking.

Happy International Woman’s Month.