11/04/2026
Part 8: Tribute to Parents β Graduates Singing "Ma, Pa, Salamat"
π Manobo National High School | March 30, 2026 | 1:00 P.M.
The medals had been pinned. The diplomas had been given. But the ceremony was not complete without this.
The graduates rose as one β togas still flowing, sashes still proud, ribbons still glowing on both them and their parents. They faced the audience not as awardees, not as honorees, but as children.
And then they sang.
π΅ "Ma, Pa, Salamat / Nay, Tay, Salamat"
The first notes were soft. Then stronger. Some graduates closed their eyes. Others locked their gaze on their mothers and fathers.
π΅ "Sayo sa buntag, nimata na / Tibuok nga oras, gihatag mo kanako"
In the audience, parents clutched their own ribbons. Fathers who hadn't cried all afternoon finally broke. Mothers held their chests as if their hearts might leap out.
π΅ "Saβkong pagkatagak, ako giagak mo / Sa kada luha, imong gikuha ang kasubo"
Graduates reached for their parents' hands. A few stepped down from their seats to kneel beside their mothers. An old man in a barong wiped his eyes with a handkerchief.
π΅ "Way paglubad ang gugmang gihatag / Pagsakripisyo, ug ang inyong pag-amuma / Kamo ang bugtong hinungdan"
The singing grew louder, braver. Some voices cracked. Nobody cared.
π΅ "Kung asa ko karon / Ug kung kinsa ko karon / Ang tanan kong naangkon / Ug kung asa ko padulong"
A graduate held up her diploma case toward her father. Another pointed to his medal, then to his mother β "Para sa'yo 'to."
π΅ "Ma, Pa, Salamat / Nay, Tay Salamat"
Then the final verses β a flood of gratitude and love:
π΅ "Bisag unsa ka badlungon, imong gisabot / Bisag asa mapadpad, imo kong gisunod / Wala pasagdi, wala biya-i / Bisan sa kawad-on, kami inyong bahandi / Asa kaha ko karon kung wala pa mo"
By now, there was no dry eye in the venue. Teachers embraced each other. Barangay officials bowed their heads. The school head removed her glasses to wipe them.
π΅ "Di maingon akong pasalamat / Di masukod ang akong paghigugma / Ihalad ko ang kadaugan"
The graduates held the last notes like a promise:
π΅ "Mama, Papa, Nanay, Tatay / Akong ihalad kaninyo"
Silence. Then thunderous applause. But the graduates weren't clapping. They were hugging their parents β tightly, fiercely, as if letting go would mean losing everything they had just said.
This was not a performance. This was a homecoming.
Togas, sashes, ribbons, medals, diploma cases β all of it meant nothing without the two words that ended the song:
Salamat, Ma. Salamat, Pa.
Shorter version:
Then the graduates sang. Not as scholars. Not as awardees. But as children.
π΅ "Ma, Pa, Salamat / Nay, Tay, Salamat"