As the year ends, the country feels noisy again. Headlines compete for attention — a record breaking national budget, traffic that refuses to move, and yet another scandal that leaves people shaking their heads. But outside the news cycle, in the places where most Filipinos actually live, the hopes for the new year are quieter, simpler, and far more honest.

For this New Year’s column, I wanted to listen to those voices — the ones we rarely hear, but the ones that often say what really matters.

“May 2026 be the year we show that good governance is not just a slogan,” the President says before a wall of cameras.

In another corner of public life, a former president reflects, “I hope we become a country that remembers its past, heals its wounds, and chooses truth.” Whether said aloud or only in thought, the words feel like both a reminder and a plea.

A legislator caught in the flood control controversy offers a half joking, half serious wish: “Sana this year brings second chances — and maybe a fresh start somewhere without mutual legal assistance treaties.”

Far from the halls of power, a fisherman in the West Philippine Sea — who has faced more water cannons than storms — whispers, “Gusto ko lang makapangisda nang payapa. Sana alon lang ang humampas sa bangka ko.”

A newly minted 2nd Lieutenant from PMA adds, “I hope we learn to win peace not just with force, but with dignity, dialogue, and real development.”

A policeman in Caloocan, tired from holiday patrols and the weight of public distrust, says, “I wish for a badge that earns respect because it protects the weak, not because people fear it.”

In a cramped classroom in Baseco, a public school teacher sighs, “More classrooms, less paperwork. More time to teach, less time filling out forms.”

A municipal doctor in Samar, still on duty after the last typhoon, prays, “Sana hindi na bumabagsak ang health system tuwing may bagyo.”

From a dorm room in Sampaloc, a student types into the glow of a cheap laptop: “I want a country where dreams don’t get blocked by corruption.”

A TNVS driver in Quezon City, stuck in traffic, mutters with a tired smile, “Fewer potholes, fair rules, and passengers who say thank you. Ayos na ’yon.”

From a long established political clan, a young heir says with disarming frankness, “My wish is that efforts to ban political dynasties don’t succeed. Public service is our family tradition — I hope it continues.”

A party list advocate counters, “Sana Congress finally removes fake party lists that serve no one but themselves.”

And from the back of a bus crawling along EDSA, a commuter looks out the window and whispers the simplest wish of all: “Gusto ko lang makauwi bago matulog ang mga anak ko.”

These voices remind us that behind every complaint lies hope, and behind every frustration is a longing for something better. As we enter 2026, may we listen more closely to the quiet, everyday wishes of ordinary Filipinos. Nations are not built by ceremonies or slogans — they are built by people who work, wait, and keep believing.

Happy New Year, Philippines. ([email protected])