A GLIMPSE OF ASIA: Rose and the quiet ache for love

Across the Philippine archipelago, whether in slums or remote rural areas, family bonds are frequently undermined. Geographic isolation, drug and alcohol issues, and unstable employment often lead to separations or even outright abandonment—just when children most need stability and care. Sometimes hope manages to carve a path through these fractured lives. This is illustrated by Rose’s narrative on the island of Pangan An.

Written and illustrated by Antoine BESSON

ROSE AND THE QUIET ACHE FOR LOVE

It takes over an hour aboard the fragile wooden fishing boats to travel from the large island of Cebu to Pangan An Island. Once a month, Rose Suano makes this trip to return home for the weekend.

At 22, she is far from an ordinary student. Bright and cheerful, she enjoys talking about her childhood on the small island visible on the horizon. “I had a very simple life. My grandparents always did their best to make sure I never went without!” she says. Her long, smooth, brown hair is often blown into her face by the sea breeze, and she quickly brushes it behind her ears. « I remember once, when I was in primary school, I must have been about 5 or 6 years old. I cried and begged to be allowed to join the end-of-year celebration at school. It cost 50 pesos (about 0.70 British pounds). My grandfather sadly told me, ‘Unfortunately we do not have the money, you cannot go.’ I was so devastated! »

When Rose talks about her grandfather, a shadow of sadness briefly touches her smile. It has been two years since her “lolo” passed away, and it feels as though she has become orphaned once again. Rose is like many other children in the Philippine islands. Her family story is a troubled one. She knows little to nothing about her father. She has never met him and does not even know who he is. All she has heard about him is that he used drugs. As for her mother, the daughter of the elderly couple who raised her as their own, she abandoned her when she was barely two months old. The memory is very painful. Rose has spent her life trying to build herself despite the absence of her parents during her childhood.

After a pause, the young girl looks up and bravely voices what she feels deep within: “My mother is not the kind of mother you might think… I truly believe she never loved me!” Yet, the love she longed for, Rose found in her grandfather. A man who means everything to her and who will make any sacrifice to help her achieve her dreams. Like the day when, having caught a large octopus at sea, he manages to sell it for a good price and finally allows her to join the end-of-year celebration at her school. A miraculous catch, full of wisdom for the young girl:

«This moment left a lasting impression on me, firstly because it was the day I realised we had nothing, and that we could not even afford a 50-peso expense unless it was planned for. But what stood out was that I realised that even with nothing, I could still be happy! »

« What stood out was that I realised that even with nothing, I could still be happy! »

A PERSONAL TRAGEDY

Rose breaks off her story to disembark. The island is so small that there is no dock; passengers step straight onto the beach, their feet in the water. She walks up the main road, with the village extending along both sides.

She walks past the primary school, turns left, and stops in front of a bare wooden frame. A few steps away, a mound of rubble suggests that a wooden house once stood there. “This is all that is left of our home,” sighs Rose. “My lola is living with neighbours while we try to find the means to rebuild.”
On Pangan An, disasters seldom strike in isolation. For Rose, the loss of the house is not the greatest concern. The true upheaval, the event that defined her young life, was the death of her grandfather.

“It was at high school that the real challenges began.”

Rose continues her story, her grandmother sitting beside her, offering quiet comfort. The two women hold hands, sitting close, silently supporting one another. High school forces Rose to leave her island, and suddenly, everything becomes more difficult. “Some days, I did not have any money for food. Other days, I could not afford the transport, so I missed school.” Rose endures these difficulties with courage: they mean little as long as she has the support of her grandparents.

One evening, as she is celebrating with a few friends from the boarding house where she studies, she receives a call from the island: “Your grandfather has had a stroke!” At first, Rose does not fully grasp what has happened, but when the reality sinks in, nothing can comfort her: “My world came crashing down!” she says through sobs. Caught up in her memories, Rose becomes again the helpless young girl she must have been that evening.

Tears stream down her face, swollen with grief. She remembers her first visit to the hospital and the innocent question she asked, overwhelmed by her grandfather’s weakness: “Do you remember me?” And his tender response: “Of course, you are my beautiful granddaughter!” “I think I had never seen my grandfather either ill or even tired.” The shock for Rose is devastating. The man who had always been there for her now appears as a giant with a weak and fragile heart. A heart that will not endure much longer, and yet, is still able to give her endless and tender love. In the days following the heart attack, Rose’s grandfather is treated in hospital, but the debts pile up, as fishing was the family’s only source of income. The elderly man must return home, even though it likely means a death sentence for him… “My grandmother sold her jewellery to cover the hospital bills. We had nothing left, and all we could do was look after him and make the most of the time we had left together.”

One evening, as Rose is about to head back to school, her grandfather, now reliant on an old wheelchair, insists on accompanying her to the beach despite his frailty. “I am sorry, I can no longer help you, I am so sorry I can no longer give you money!” Rose breaks down in tears. The loving grandfather who had raised her, still thought only of her in his final days. She comforted him: “Take care of yourself, I will manage. You do not need to worry. Just focus on getting better, because I cannot imagine my life without you.” A few days later, Rose’s grandfather passed away in hospital.

Rose and her grandmother (her ‘lola’) in front of the ruins of their house.

The only way to get to the island is by boat from Cebu, which is an additional cost for students like Rose who cannot go home often.

Rose, a 22-year-old student, her tears barely dry, regains her smile.

On Pangan An Island, many children are sponsored like Rose to ensure they have access to education.

DREAMING OF UNIVERSITY

Rose’s lola quietly squeezes her hand, a simple gesture that gives her the strength to keep going. Rose smiles, clears her throat, and with her grandmother’s support, finds the strength to continue. Her smile grows more genuine as she speaks.

“The next part of the journey was far from easy. There was the Covid-19 pandemic, with travel restrictions between the islands. But eventually, I managed to apply to university.” A dream that becomes reality when Rose finds out she has been accepted into the University of Cebu: “This dream come true is not just mine; it was also my grandfather’s. When he was with his friends, I would often hear him boast, ‘My granddaughter is very intelligent, she will go to university!” Today, life is no easier for Rose. In Cebu, living is more expensive and more complicated than on her island. The challenges of university are not the same as those she faced in high school.

Still, she moves forward, knowing she has a purpose: “I experienced the most terrible hardship of my life with the death of my ‘lolo’, but I also learned an important lesson: no matter where you come from or what challenges you face, life does not end there!” Rose now dreams of becoming a teacher for young children.

She dreams of passing on to others what her grandparents gave her: “They showed me how to believe in myself and have confidence in who I am. Thanks to them, I know I am a good person, capable of succeeding. At university, I met students who are better off financially than I am, but who are struggling far more emotionally.”

For Rose, the foundation of her inner strength is clear: it stems from the love of her grandparents, especially her grandfather’s. “That is why I want to become a teacher who can both teach and love children; it is so important!”

Is it worth believing in the power of love? For Rose, there is no doubt! “A part of me will always be searching for love because I lacked my parents’ love when I was young, and I know I will spend my life looking for it,” shares the future teacher with remarkable maturity.

However, the young woman has learned that support can sometimes come from unexpected places. For the past 10 years, Rose has had the help of a sponsor in France: “Thanks to him, I was able to achieve my dream, along with my grandfather’s. There is nothing more meaningful!”