Veteran singer and concert icon Zsa Zsa Padilla has spoken candidly about her decision to return the Aliw Awards Foundation’s Lifetime Achievement Award, detailing the experience in a two-part social media post that has since resonated deeply with fellow artists and fans. Her message, she clarified, was not rooted in bitterness but in disappointment — one that cut deeper precisely because of the honor’s significance and her 42-year journey in the industry.

Padilla shared that when she first learned she would be receiving the Lifetime Achievement Award, she felt genuine joy and gratitude. With more than four decades of performances behind her, she said she did not even prepare a written speech, choosing instead to speak from the heart. She wanted to acknowledge the producers who took financial risks to mount concerts; the directors, musical directors, musicians, writers, and production teams who worked behind the scenes; the artists she collaborated with through the years; and, most especially, the audience that stood by her career. Members of her family were present that night, as they had always been — offering quiet but steadfast support.

What unfolded during the ceremony, however, was far from what she had expected.

According to Padilla, all Lifetime Achievement Award recipients were called onstage together, but only three were present: herself and Lani Misalucha, representing live performance, and Frankie Asinero for classical music. They were handed their awards and made to wait, assuming they would be given the chance to say a few words. Instead, a production staff member eventually gestured for them to step down. Padilla recalled turning to Misalucha and saying, “Wala ba man lang tayong speech?!” Still, they complied and exited the stage respectfully.

The irony, she said, was that her acceptance speech ended up happening not onstage, but outside the ballroom — when a vlogger asked her what she felt about receiving the award. That unscripted, informal moment became the only space where she was able to express her gratitude. It was only afterward that the weight of the situation sank in. Padilla admitted she felt like crying, stunned by how abruptly the moment had ended. To be ushered offstage after supposedly being honored left her shocked and embarrassed, especially with family members watching. “What was the point of being there with our families?” she asked.

Padilla went on to contrast their experience with how other awardees were treated that same evening. She pointed out that all other winners were given the opportunity to speak. When Jona won, production waited until she could change out of her plain clothes before calling her onstage. Rachel Alejandro, who arrived late, was still able to accept an award on behalf of a colleague and give a brief speech. In their case, Padilla noted, a speech was even read by a representative — just not by the awardees themselves.

What was missing, Padilla stressed, was sincerity.

She addressed the Aliw Awards Foundation directly, urging it to do better in honoring artists whose lifetimes have been devoted to their craft. She suggested preparing video presentations explaining why recipients are chosen, noting that she herself would have appreciated learning more about the contributions of fellow honorees such as Arturo Luis Pio and Frankie Asinero. While she said she was already familiar with the body of work of Lani Misalucha, Gary Valenciano, and Jed Madela, she believed the audience deserved to fully understand and celebrate each awardee’s legacy.

“Instead of feeling honored, I was left feeling small as I walked off that stage,” Padilla wrote. It was this feeling — of being diminished at what should have been a moment of recognition — that led her to return the award. Her decision, she explained, was not an act of defiance but a call for reflection. By returning the trophy, she hopes the foundation will see it as an opportunity to reassess how it honors artists and to ensure that future recipients are treated with the respect their contributions deserve.

In closing, Padilla’s message struck a chord not only because of who she is, but because of what she stood for: dignity, gratitude, and the belief that honoring a lifetime of work should never feel rushed, hollow, or performative. For an artist who has spent 42 years giving her voice, heart, and time to the stage, the respect she asked for was simple — and, in her view, long overdue.