On 11 February 2026, I had the solemn privilege of leading the Department of Justice’s Katarungan Caravan at the Medium Security Compound of the New Bilibid Prison. More than 500 Persons Deprived of Liberty (PDLs) stepped forward, many asking the same urgent question: Does the Good Conduct Time Allowance (GCTA) apply to me?

Inside prison walls, the GCTA is not a technicality. It is time. It is hope measured in days and months. It is the law’s recognition that rehabilitation matters, that discipline and reform must have legal consequences. While the State may lawfully deprive a person of liberty as a punishment, it cannot strip away his dignity and opportunity for redemption.

That principle was firmly reaffirmed by the Supreme Court in Guinto v. Department of Justice (G.R. 249027, 3 April 2024).

In Guinto, the Court categorically ruled that persons convicted of heinous crimes are entitled to GCTA under Republic Act 10592. It struck down the 2019 Implementing Rules and Regulations that excluded those convicted of heinous crimes, declaring that the IRR went beyond the statute it purported to implement. Administrative rules cannot amend or restrict what Congress has clearly provided.

The Court underscored a critical statutory distinction: the law differentiates between “persons charged” and “persons convicted.” The limitations were misapplied in the invalid IRR. Once a person is convicted and is serving a sentence, the law does not distinguish as to the nature of the crime for purposes of earning GCTA. And where the law does not distinguish, neither should we.

This was not an act of leniency. It was an act of fidelity to the Constitution, to legislative intent, and to equal protection. It reaffirmed that rehabilitation is not rhetoric; it is policy embedded in our correctional system.

But jurisprudence, however clear, must be felt on the ground.

During the Caravan, I saw how legal clarity transforms fear into relief. Many PDLs were uncertain whether Guinto applied to them. Some had received conflicting interpretations. Others did not understand how their GCTA should be computed. For individuals whose freedom depends on accurate sentence computation, uncertainty is not abstract, it is a daily weight.

Through the DoJ Action Center, under Program Director Joan Guevarra, alongside public attorneys, IBP volunteers, and law students, we provided direct consultations. Records were reviewed. Computations were explained. Processes were clarified. The mission was straightforward: ensure that what the Supreme Court declared in law is realized in practice.

Access to justice does not end with a decision. It demands implementation. It requires that earned credits are properly credited, that release dates are correctly calculated, and that administrative systems comply, faithfully and consistently, with judicial pronouncements.

As Justice Secretary Fredderick Vida often reminds us, “Real Justice for All is never confined within the four walls of a courtroom.” The Guinto ruling may have been penned in the Supreme Court, but its true test unfolds inside correctional facilities, where liberty is counted one day at a time.

The GCTA is an instrument of compassionate justice. It does not erase accountability. It incentivizes reform. It affirms that reintegration is possible and legally recognized.

As we continue bringing the Katarungan Caravan to correctional institutions, we carry a constitutional duty: to ensure that the rule of law reaches even those behind bars. The promise of Guinto is clear — the law must be applied as written, without unauthorized exclusions, and with full respect for human dignity.

Ad meliora — toward better things — means building a justice system that is firm yet fair, corrective yet compassionate, and always faithful to the law.