
“Student po.”
It used to roll off my tongue so easily
a small assertion of a right I memorized more than understood
Even on weekends.
Even on holidays.
Even when the driver hesitated,
I insisted.
I used to get irritated whenever a jeepney or tricycle driver refused.
I would think of fairness.
Of policies written somewhere official.
Of the small relief a few pesos could give me.
I never thought about what those same pesos meant to them.
Lately, the roads feel heavier
The rising cost of fuel is no longer just a headline
It is in the way drivers pause before starting the engine
In the way they count coins twice, hoping the numbers stretch further than they can
In the tired lines on their faces
No discount could ease their burden
And suddenly
“Student po” does not feel the same anymore
Now I sit quietly
I hand my fare without a word, no reminder, no insistence
Sometimes, when the change comes back
I close my hand and say, “Sa inyo na po”
Not because I have more,
But because I finally understand when not to ask for less from someone who already has so little.
And I begin to wonder
Do I really need to claim a student discount to call it fairness
When the system itself has never been fair to the ones who drive us forward
This is not about abandoning a right
It is about recognizing reality
Somewhere between what is fair and what is humane
There is a gap no policy can fill
Maybe growing up is learning when not to claim everything you can
Especially when someone else is already carrying more than enough
So today,
And maybe for a while
No discount.
Just a quiet offering
to the hands that keep the wheels turning
Even when the cost of moving forward rises.