Tumultuous, the word, has popped up much too often in the last days of December. Looking back, it seems no one could escape the year’s demand for change. The Wood Snake, after all, had to shed its old skin for a new one to grow.

We, in the LIFE Team, have seen our share of life’s tumults. We, too, lived through floods and earth-shakers, and there was no room for brainrot. We, too, are raring for real change, one that checks corruption at the door as we enter another year.

After a year of covering life’s events, and sometimes being part of the stories we write, here’s a look at some of the lessons we learned and how we fuel the endless hope we carry for every new year.

Writing for the best

What could have been greater than joining the DAILY TRIBUNE in early 2025?

In all modesty, I have to say that DAILY TRIBUNE is the best newspaper in the country today — and not just because I am now part of this daily. I can say with conviction that the paper covers everything every reader needs, except porn, of course. Sigh.

I was on a six-month break from writing before joining the paper. It was a period I immensely enjoyed because I didn’t have to run after deadlines. I had time for myself. I watched Netflix endlessly while eating Nips.

The truth is, I don’t exactly enjoy writing. I am probably the only journalist who says that. When I made that confession in the now-defunct Teysie ng Tahanan show of Tessie Tomas in 1995, all jaws fell in the studio. We were a panel of broadcasters who also did print. While everyone went orgasmic over the pleasure of writing, there I was — expressing a different view.

To me, writing is the loneliest job on earth. You face a blank computer screen and wait for the muse to arrive. With today’s traffic, the muse has all the excuses in the world to be late.

Compare that with television work and even doing an online show. You work with a team. If you are feeling nasty, you can walk out and the executive producer will cajole you into returning to the set. In the world of print, you miss a deadline and your editor will kill you.

But I still cannot abandon writing. I would always need to express myself in printed words and I am happy that DAILY TRIBUNE provides me with a venue for that. This 2026, I plan to return to ABS-CBN. But no way am I leaving DAILY TRIBUNE. Television allows me to have a comfortable life. But it is print that feeds my soul.

— Butch Francisco

Between triumph and farewell

After more than three decades of covering showbiz, I have learned that every year tells its own story — but 2025 was unlike any other. It was a year of extremes, of soaring pride and quiet heartbreak, of standing ovations and solemn goodbyes. It reminded me why this industry, and this country, will always move me deeply.
There were moments that made me beam with pride as a Filipino. Watching names like Emma Tiglao, Sofronio Vasquez, Jessica Sanchez and Veejay Floresca shine on international stages felt like collective victory. These wins were not just personal milestones for them; they were affirmations of Filipino talent, resilience and excellence. Once again, the world was reminded that Filipinos are not just participants — we are forces to be reckoned with, truly world-class in every sense.
But 2025 was also heavy with loss. One by one, we bid farewell to giants who shaped our industry and our collective memory — Nora Aunor, Gloria Romero, Delia Razon, Hajji Alejandro, Ricky Davao, Pilita Corrales. Their passing felt deeply personal, as if chapters of Philippine cinema and music quietly closed before our eyes. Covering their legacies was no longer just a job; it was an act of gratitude, remembrance and mourning for an era that raised generations of artists and audiences alike.
Beyond the industry, the year also tested us as a nation. Natural calamities struck our country with unforgiving force, yet time and again, Filipinos rose through bayanihan. In evacuation centers, donation drives and quiet acts of kindness, I witnessed the same spirit that fuels our artists — the instinct to help, to share and to endure together. It was a sobering reminder that even in the hardest moments, compassion remains our strongest currency.
As I look toward 2026, my hope is simple yet profound. I hope for healing — for an industry that continues to honor its legends while nurturing new voices. I hope for more stories worth celebrating, more victories that unite us, and fewer goodbyes that leave us aching. And for our country, I hope for safety, resilience and a future where bayanihan is not only a response to tragedy, but a way of life.
If 2025 taught me anything, it is this: joy and grief can coexist, and both shape who we are. As I step into 2026, I carry forward the lessons, the memories and an enduring belief in the strength of the Filipino spirit — onstage, onscreen and beyond.

— Jefferson Fernando

Making noise a collective voice

Bashing strangely took a positive outlook when public indignation was no longer heard in the busy school hub district of Manila, Mendiola, or the globally known protesters’ venue,  EDSA, or the rallying turf, Liwasang Bonifacio.