Tumindig. Tumaya. Magmahal.

Read the commencement speech of Atty Leila M De Lima, Doctor in Sociology, honoris causa, at the 2025 University Commencement on Friday, 20 June 2025.

Magandang umaga po sa inyong lahat: Ang Pangulo ng Pamantasan, Padre Roberto Yap, sa iba pang mga opisyal at kawani ng Ateneo de Manila University, sa mga guro at administrador, sa mga magulang, mga panauhin, at higit sa lahat, sa mga nagsipagtapos—isang taos-pusong pagbati sa inyo!

Maraming salamat po sa karangalang iginawad ninyo sa akin. To be conferred the honorary degree of Doctor in Sociology is deeply humbling. Buong puso ko itong tinatanggap bilang panibagong panata: na sa kabila ng lahat, magpapatuloy akong tumindig at tumaya para sa katotohanan, katarungan, at dangal ng bawat Pilipino.

Ngayon po, Atenista na rin ako—honoris causa nga lang. Pero kailangan ko na ring aminin, para sa transparency: ako po ay isang La Sallian noong kolehiyo. Oo, galing ako sa kabilang team.

At hindi lang yan. Ako po ay nag-aral ng batas sa San Beda. Kaya kung tutuusin, parang triple citizen na ako pagdating sa mga unibersidad. Pero heto po ako ngayon, buong-pusong tumatanggap ng karangalang maging bahagi ng pamayanang Atenista. Kaya mula sa isang dating “kalaban,” isang mainit na pagbati sa aking mga bagong kakampi.

Ang totoo niyan, matagal ko nang kinikilala ang diwang Heswita. Kamakailan lang, ginawaran din ako ng Doctor of Public Administration ng Ateneo de Naga. At mula pa sa Commission on Human Rights, sa trabaho ko bilang Secretary of Justice, nang maging Senadora ako, hanggang ngayon bilang kinatawan ng ML Partylist, kasangga ko na sa maraming laban ang mga Atenista—mula Katipunan hanggang sa pinakamalayong barangay. Dahil diyan, ngayong araw, hindi lamang ako nakikibahagi sa tagumpay ninyo bilang mga nagsipagtapos. Nakikibahagi rin ako sa paninindigan para sa kapwa, sa di natitinag na pananampalataya sa kabutihan, at sa pananalig na kahit gaano kahirap ang laban, laging may dahilan para umasa.

Dito nagsisimula ang lahat: sa paniniwala na ang pag-asa ay pagharap sa realidad—mata sa mata, kamay sa gawain, puso sa panganib . This is not the optimism of the naïve. This is not the hope sold by motivational speakers or influencers.

This is hope as defiance. It is the choice to care in a world that numbs, the insistence that this country can still be more than what it has become.

In an era of weaponized trolls and industrial-scale disinformation, hope is the stubborn insistence on truth. In an age of manufactured outrage that seeks to polarize us, hope is the radical act of finding common ground. Hope is the person who rescues a neighbor from the floodwaters, the student organizing a clean-up, the farmer tilling the land despite climate change, the artist who challenges the present, or the journalist who insists on inconvenient truths.

This is the spirit that built our nation, brick by painful brick – the spirit of our ancestors who fought for freedom against overwhelming odds, of ordinary citizens who stood together at EDSA. Their hope was an active force, a defiant roar against oppression, a quiet but firm refusal to accept injustice as the final word. It is the audacity to dream of a Philippines where every child has access to education, where no one goes hungry, where justice is truly blind and swift.

This is the hope that challenges the status quo, the hope that disrupts complacency, the hope that insists on a better tomorrow, even when the evidence of today suggests otherwise. It is a hope that finds its strength not in easy victories, but in enduring the struggle itself, in rising again after every fall, in learning from every setback.

As Václav Havel said, “Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.” Its opposite is not despair. It is complicity. It is the easy choice to look away, to mute, to unfollow, to remain silent while others are wronged. Ang pananahimik ay para na ring pagsasabing, “Pinapayagan ko ito. Hahayaan ko itong magpatuloy.”

This is the hope you are asked to be stewards of—mga katiwala, tagapangalaga. And this hope is not an abstract concept. Ito ay pag-asang may katawan. May kalyo. May pasa. May sugat. It is what fuels the Lumad teacher in exile, the public nurse working double shifts, the jeepney driver refusing to be erased. It lives in every community pantry, and in every vote cast with integrity when the odds seem fixed. This hope is rebellion. It is subversive. It is radical.

To be a steward of hope means understanding its fragility and power. Like a precious seed, it needs constant tending, protection, and nurturing. It requires discernment, sifting through noise to find authentic hope. It demands courage against the forces that seek to extinguish it – lies, cynicism, despair.

Your Atenean education equipped you to analyze, question, and lead. Now, use these tools to protect and propagate hope within our communities, nation, yourselves. Remember, you are called to safeguard hope, ensuring it thrives for generations to come.

At ito ang hinihingi sa inyo ngayon: ang maging katiwala ng paniniwalang ang mundo—kahit sugatan, kahit salat, kahit sawa sa pangako—ay maaari pa ring pagandahin, alagaan, baguhin.

I know this hope intimately, because I was forced to live it.

Noong may isang alkalde, na naging pangulo, na tahasang nagsabing palalawakin niya sa buong bansa ang patayan na sinimulan niya sa kaniyang lungsod—at ginawa nga niya—hindi ako nanahimik. I saw how fear was replacing the law, how due process was being exchanged for dead bodies dumped on sidewalks.

This was a crisis of our humanity, more than mere politics. It was a blatant assault on the very dignity of life, a systematic dismantling of the foundations of justice and compassion that should define any civilized society. Families were torn apart, communities lived under a constant shadow of terror, and the sacredness of human life was reduced to mere statistics. The rule of law was broken, cast aside, replaced by a chilling reign of impunity. It was a time when speaking truth to power became a dangerous act, when empathy was seen as weakness, and when silence was coerced through fear. The very fabric of our society seemed to be unraveling thread by thread. This was a battle for the soul of our nation, a test of our collective conscience.

And because I refused to accept silence as an option, they came for me. I was made public enemy number one. I was vilified. My character was assassinated. Halos pitong taon akong ikinulong sa mga gawa-gawang kaso. They tried me, initially, in the court of public opinion, not of law, hoping to break my spirit and bury me in a cell designed to erase me from the nation’s memory.

But a strange thing happened in that lonely cell. Hope found me. Dati, hindi ako pala-dasal. But prayer became a ritual of resistance. Every prayer was a declaration: Buhay pa ako. At hindi ako susuko. It was a quiet rebellion of the soul. In the stark silence of my confinement, stripped of freedoms, my mind became a sanctuary. I found strength remembering the faces of those I fought for, the injustices I sought to correct, the principles I refused to abandon. The four walls that confined my body could not imprison my spirit. I rediscovered a resilience I didn't know I possessed, a deep well of inner fortitude emerging in the absence of external distractions. I found solace in the smallest things—a sliver of sunlight, the rustle of leaves, the rhythm of my breath. In this forced solitude, my convictions were forged into something stronger, clearer, more resolute.

My only companions were the stray cats who lived in the camp. Ako, na dating mga aso ang alaga, natutong makipamuhay sa kanila. They were survivors, just like me. Their quiet persistence mirrored my own determination to simply be, to refuse to be erased.

For 2,454 days, the system tried to break me. And then, I walked free. They discovered that while you can jail a person, you cannot imprison an idea. They found out that hope is unbreakable. And in the long arc of justice, it is inevitable.

Hindi ako naiwang mag-isa sa labang iyon . My lawyers were pillars of truth. They fought tirelessly, navigating a system that was often stacked against us. At sa likod ng mga rehas, dumating ang mga angkla ng pag-asa ko: ang mga liham mula sa mga estudyante, mga katrabaho, at lalo na mula sa mga pamilya ng mga biktima ng madugong drug war. These letters were lifelines, more than just words on paper. Each letter was a promise that I would not be forgotten, that my voice, even from behind bars, still echoed in the hearts of many. They were a powerful testament to the compassion and solidarity that still existed amidst the chaos and cruelty. These were the true anchors that kept me grounded, reminding me of the profound purpose of my sacrifice.

Kaya’t para sa kanila; para sa mga pinaslang at pinatahimik. Para sa anak kong may naiibang mundong kailangang ipagtanggol. Para sa bawat isa na nakikibaka pa rin hanggang ngayon. Lumaban ako. At lumalaban pa rin.

So, mga ginigiliw kong nagtapos, do not think that you need to be imprisoned to prove that you have fought. You do not have to be plunged into darkness to become a light. Ang tunay na pag-asa ay minsan bulong, minsan panalangin. Minsan, simpleng pagtanggi sa kasinungalingan, kahit nag-iisa.

Ang tanong ngayon: Sa mundong ito na nilalamon ng ingay, ng disinformation, at mapanlinlang na aliw, saan kayo titindig? What will be your fight?

Will you be the doctor who chooses the barrio over a hospital abroad?

Will you be the lawyer who defends the oppressed instead of the highest bidder?

Will you be the teacher in a remote community, fighting ignorance one student at a time?

Or will you be the writer, the artist, the truth-teller, who insists on being heard when lies are screamed through megaphones?

These are not just career choices; they are calls to embody hope in action. Will you be the engineer designing sustainable solutions, or the entrepreneur building an ethical business? Will you be the public servant upholding integrity, choosing service over self-interest? Or perhaps the everyday citizen choosing kindness, standing up for a neighbor, casting an informed vote. Your fight's impact will ripple through lives and communities, creating quiet yet profound change, even without headlines. Each choice, no matter how small, contributes to our nation's future. It is about choosing to be a force for good, a voice for the voiceless, a hand extended to those in need.

Walang madali sa alinman sa mga pasyang ito. And they will be made harder in this age of cynicism. In a time when it is fashionable to be ironic, to be nonchalant, to be detached—when influencer culture rewards performance over substance—the greatest courage is to be invested. The bravest thing you can do is to choose to care, to choose to trust, to refuse to surrender the possibility of goodness. Hope is not the delusion of an idealist. It is the conviction of the brave.

Your graduation today marks a profound beginning. You are stepping into a complex world, in desperate need of your light. You carry your academic achievements and the Atenean spirit of cura personalis and service for others. A continuous flow of hope – from one generation to the next, adapting, evolving, always rooted in the belief that a better world is possible, if we dare to fight for it.

Kaya ngayong araw, higit sa pagtanggap ng diploma, tinatanggap ninyo ang isang mas mabigat na atas: ang maging katiwala ng pag-asa . It is of a future that is still being fought for.

So I call on you: Tumindig. Tumaya. Magmahal. Stand up, especially when it is not popular. Take a risk, especially when the truth is being twisted. Love, especially when hope is being mocked by others.

There will be days when you feel exhausted, when the weight of the world seems too heavy to bear. You will face skepticism, ridicule, and even hostility from those who benefit from the status quo. There will be moments when your resolve is tested, when you doubt if your efforts truly make a difference. In these times, remember that true courage is triumph over fear. Remember that even the smallest act of kindness, the quietest whisper of truth, can be a spark that ignites a larger fire. Lean on your communities. Revisit the stories of those who persevered before you, and draw inspiration from their unwavering spirit. Your journey will not be linear, but every step forward, every act of defiance, every choice to care, contributes to the grand tapestry of hope that we are weaving together.