Who Else But Us: Telling Mindanawon Stories at SAAD sa Kaugmaon

by Andrea Alexa Barga


SAAD sa Kaugmaon: Paghugpong sa mga Sugilanong Mindanaon stood as a firm declaration: Mindanao will shape its own narrative in a region too often defined by external perspectives.


The event, which took place on April 30 at the Mindanao State University - Iligan Institute of Technology (MSU-IIT) Mini Theater, brought together voices from various artistic, literary, and performance disciplines for a day of discussions with a shared goal of addressing issues of cultural power, authorship, and identity.


SAAD, which was organized by second-year BA English Language Studies and BA Literary and Cultural Studies students, along with their professors, provided a forum for conversations about taking up space.


There was no grand production, no spotlighted dramatics. Just a relaxed, sit-down conversation with award-winning Mindanawon writers: Steven P.C. Fernandez, Neil Arkhe Azcuna, Arlene Yandug, Diandra Macarambon, Christine Godinez-Ortega, Anthony Tan, and Lourd Greggory Crisol; a collective of voices insisting, with clarity and conviction, that representation matters, and that it begins within; with your own story.


The event’s three-panel format on theater, literature, and poetry was less about separating disciplines and more about seeing how they thread together. What emerged was a common goal and aspiration to preserve without freezing, to innovate without erasing, and to write, perform, and speak not for outsiders, but for one’s own community.


“There is really a need to represent ourselves more dynamically,” said Arlene Yandug, echoing a sentiment felt across all panels. It wasn’t just about reclaiming narratives—it was about making sure they breathe, shift, and stay alive.


For Diandra Macarambon, writing was a bridge between people. “I wanted to bridge the gap and show, rather than tell, that we are similar,” she said, speaking to the shared humanity across the region’s cultures and identities. That impulse to connect, to meet readers and audiences halfway, was a quiet undercurrent that ran through much of the afternoon.


Even the question of authorship found its weight. As one speaker reflected, “Who else would write [about Mindanao] but themselves?” To let others write these stories is to risk erasure, or worse, inaccuracy.


Christine Ortega, too, said it plainly: “We don’t need validation from Manila anymore.”


Amid these passionate calls for cultural responsibility and advocacy, Anthony Tan’s perspective offered something quieter—but no less valuable. A formalist through and through, he recalled his time studying under the Tiempo couple at Silliman, and how it shaped his view on literature: “I have no advocacy at all. I just write for myself.” For Tan, the priority is simple—write well. In a space often dominated by cultural urgency, his was a reminder that good writing, in itself, can be enough.


This view gently peeled back the pressure to always write with a cause. It left room for writers to explore their voice without burden, to create not out of obligation but out of clarity, out of craft. In doing so, it expanded the conversation to include not only those writing for justice or representation, but also those who write for the sake of writing, like art for art itself, because it brings them closer to truth.


The name itself—saad—means promise. And if this event offered anything, it was exactly that: a promise that the narratives of Mindanao will no longer be borrowed, diluted, or postponed. They will be written and spoken. Loudly. Clearly. And most importantly, truthfully. Because who else but us, Mindanawons, can tell the stories of Mindanao with the truth and fullness they deserve?