And yes, we must deal with the offenders. Not all are monsters. Some are first-time, low-risk individuals who may never offend again with proper intervention. Others are chronic, predatory, and must be kept away. A one-size-fits-all solution does not work. We need assessments. We need classifications. And we need evidence-based programs that address their behavior while safeguarding the community.

The UN has spoken. But our own people—judges who dismiss cases against the innocent, jail officers who treat inmates with dignity, parole officers who walk the extra mile—have spoken louder. These are the true Filipino heroes.

The slow trial process is not just inefficiency—it is cruelty by delay. Each postponement, each rescheduled hearing, each absent witness is a small knife twisted slowly into the gut of the accused. Judges know this. Prosecutors know this. Jail officers see this every day.

We need a law. We need legislation that recognizes that wrongful imprisonment—whether due to mistaken conviction or protracted trial detention—is a wound that deserves healing. That recognizes no one should be punished for being poor. That acknowledges the State has a moral debt to those it imprisons without cause.

Because if justice is something you have to pay for, then it is not justice. It’s a commodity. And if release comes only after extortion, then we’ve confused rehabilitation with racketeering.

Yes, three weeks isn’t much. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from the courts, from the jails, from the endless back-and-forth between paper and people—it’s that real change doesn’t wait for grand legislation. It sneaks in through courtroom doors, it sits quietly in sidebars, it speaks in soft voices and small acts.

Organizationally, many police units survive on the mercy of local governments. Budgets depend on mayors. And when politics holds the purse, the badge becomes a weapon. LGUs don’t just support police—they command them. They own them. They aim them.

The Bureau of Jail Management and Penology (BJMP) has done something remarkable. From June 2024 to May 2025, it released some 68,000 Persons Deprived of Liberty (PDLs). That’s not a small feat. That’s not a statistic you sweep under the rug. That’s lives—68,000 stories unshackled, 68,000 families pieced together again, if only partially, if only painfully.

How do you stitch back a life unraveled, piece by piece, day by day? How do you find your footing when the world you knew has changed its rules, its rhythms, its face? How do you reclaim a family you left as children—now grown, with children of their own? How do you chase again the dreams that once waited patiently, only to grow old with you?

Just beyond the walls of the Manila City Jail, a quiet revolution is taking place—something that whispers of hope and second chances. It’s not the kind of story that makes headlines, but it is the kind that moves hearts.

Last May 12, 2025, Filipinos trooped to the polling precincts to vote for the next set of senators, congresspeople, governors, mayors, and councilors who will rule their respective areas of jurisdiction for the next three years. What should have been a peaceful exercise of democracy—where people freely elect their chosen representatives—has once again turned into violent mayhem, corruption of government coffers, and, worse, corruption of public morals.

Welkam sa buhay laya, kosa.

Too often, PDLs plead guilty just to get out. They are not admitting guilt—they’re escaping a system that traps them in limbo. And when the innocent are punished, the credibility of the justice system collapses. This is a solvable problem. But first, we must act.

In Philippine jails today, thousands of detainees are being punished without a verdict. They wait in overcrowded cells—some for two,...

For meaningful reform to take place in either country, policymakers must strike a balance between public safety and rehabilitation. Addressing the root causes of crime, ensuring that penal policies match the system’s capacity, and prioritizing evidence-based reforms are crucial.

Addressing issues in the criminal justice system requires a holistic approach that considers both penal and prison policies. Policymakers must balance public safety with rehabilitation, ensuring that penal policies do not overwhelm prison systems and that prison policies effectively contribute to the reintegration of offenders.

This guide is based on Republic Act No. 10592 (GCTA Law), the Revised Penal Code, and relevant Bureau of Corrections and Board of Pardons and Parole policies. It is designed to help you take the right steps toward lawful and successful reintegration into society.

Lagi na lang tayong pinagtatawanan; kung gusto nating umasenso bilang bayan, panahon na para bumoto nang maayos at matalino.

Advice to voters: Choose your candidates wisely. If you see telltale signs of criminal behavior, do not vote for them. The violence will haunt us all in the end.

Killing addicts is a short-term solution, built on poor evidence and flawed reasoning.