It started, as these horrible things often do, with something utterly stupid. A petty argument in a school comfort room ended with two Grade 8 boys in Las Piñas being stabbed dead by three schoolmates of roughly the same age. Two young lives, snuffed out, reminding us that children are perfectly capable of violence.

It wasn’t the first time, and you can bet your bottom peso it won’t be the last. Still, the headlines — especially to jaded readers — carried the kind of slasher movie shock value that makes you look twice. As if we hadn’t seen it coming. We did. We just didn’t look.

What we have here isn’t just a crime story. It’s a story of a dysfunctional society that can only get worse. The culprits aren’t just the kids who wielded the knives. Sharing the guilt are the adults who handed them invisible daggers long ago — through broken homes, poverty, violent media, and a justice system that reacts with a shrug and a PowerPoint presentation claiming focus crimes have, allegedly, gone down.

Let’s start with the schools — those hallowed halls of learning where teachers double as surrogate parents and guidance counselors are grossly underpaid and overworked with caseloads the size of barangays. No wonder some students graduate having saturated TikTok with their posts, but can’t manage their anger to save their lives — or someone else’s. Yes, we teach them quadratic equations, but not conflict resolution.

Imagine being 14, hormone-driven, sleep-deprived, bullied, maybe even hungry — and being told to sit still and “listen.” That’s either a recipe for violence or the start of a Marvel origin story. Pick your poison.

Outside the gates, things aren’t much better. In many urban poor communities, you’re either in a gang, a fraternity, a syndicate — or you’re invisible. The first option, sadly, offers a false sense of invincibility in a country where crime seems to run free.

Along Road 10, turf wars are waged by kids with steel pipes, petty pride, and Molotov cocktails.

It’s West Side Story, minus the music and choreography. The police show up too late, politicians too early in this election season. And the cycle resets with the precision of a Swiss watch.

What of the homes these kids come from? That’s assuming they still function as homes. Many don’t. Parents are overseas, overworked, or overwhelmed. Some children are raised by social media influencers — an idea that should terrify you if you’ve recently scrolled through their “For You” page.

Let’s be honest. The violence didn’t sneak up on us. We let it in. We invited it to sit down, offered it snacks, and told it to entertain the children while we were busy scrolling.

The irony?

We seem more outraged by the act caught on camera than by the fact that it happened at all.

Had there been no video, no viral moment, this would’ve been another news brief buried on page seven. Yeah, that’s the Metro section of DAILY TRIBUNE, night owl editor Elmer Manuel’s turf.

Yes, we have Bahay Pag-asa, where the three young — let’s not sugarcoat it — killers were taken. It sounds hopeful. Often, it isn’t. These so-called boys’ and girls’ towns for children in conflict with the law are about as rehabilitative as detention in a public high school.

Reform is needed. But try telling that to Congress, which is still debating whether “ayuda” should include WiFi. So what do we do? Just my two cents, but we can start small. We teach empathy the way we teach science — daily, painfully, and yes, with cheat sheets. We fund community centers instead of basketball leagues for politicians. We give teenagers something to belong to other than a gang.

We teach parents to be present, not perfect. We show them that “discipline” is not a synonym for “slap.” We hire more school counselors than vice presidents. And we resist the urge to turn every act of violence into a Facebook rant or a Senate hearing.

Maybe — just maybe — we’ll stop pretending this is new. The kids are not all right. But they didn’t get that way on their own. And if we still need a wake-up call after Las Piñas, perhaps we should have the kids look in the mirror — and hope the reflection isn’t armed.