Mico had already envisioned how he wanted to celebrate his fourteenth birthday. He would wake up and gaze at the fields bathed in light by the sun. There, he would see his grandfather, Mikael, greeting him with a warm smile while working in the fields as it is harvest season once again. It looked like a painting, peaceful and serene, and if he could, he’d wish for it to be real.

For generations, Mico’s family considered Adam’s Point their home. But for his grandfather who came to know the place as Kaboloan, their residence has never been the same since the arrival of men in uniform guarding the area. Soon, tractors and machinery came to the fields, promising more productivity for Kaboloan’s farmers, but with it came a hefty price. It cost them their own land and property. 

Before long, Adam’s Point became a place of fear-mongering and vitriol, where the slightest bit of hope withers away. It started with curfews, all doors and gates would be sealed tight before supper. Then, their land shrunk smaller and smaller. There were no stars at night, only the flashing lights of men in uniform. The growling and barking of the guard dogs kept Mico wide awake in fear. 

Mico’s grandfather would often reminisce of Kaboloan, its huge plots of land that used to feed and nourish the community. The soil was rich with unique strains of crops and livestock. At times like those, Mico could only yearn and imagine what it felt like to live in such a place.

A thought crossed Mico’s mind. Yet, he felt guilty for even considering it—he wished to escape Adam’s Point. He believed that nothing good has come from Adam’s Point, at least not in recent memory. Maybe, he thought, this wish could reverse their cruel fate. He wanted to find a place he could truly call home.

On the day of his birthday Mico woke up to a different landscape. Mico gripped the window bars of his house and peered outside.  Across the fields were a group of farmers barricading the armed men from entering the land.  

Mico’s defeated attitude melted away the moment he saw his grandfather among the group, whose voices can be heard even from a distance. At that moment, he thought, he wanted to become like his grandfather—fearless and unyielding in the face of oppression.

Kaboloan, Mico realized, lives on in the shared memories of its people. It is the love and dedication for their shared goal that gives the community the strength to push back and reclaim the land that is rightfully theirs. The sky does not grant wishes, nor do the stars, Mico thought. Wishes are not simply given and granted, but forged from a community’s desire for change and justice. ●