The situation escalated further when police deployed tear gas.

On September 21, I found myself at the center of the confrontation between protesters, marshals, and police at Mendiola in Manila. The marshals of Bagong Alyansang Makabayan (Bayan) did what they could to prevent clashes. For the first time in years since the pandemic, no police barricades stopped a large group of demonstrators from reaching Mendiola. Had there been, I believe they would have been quickly overwhelmed—after all, thousands had marched that day, determined to reach the historic site.

Instead of the usual phalanx of police, marshals instructed those at the front line of the protest to form a human barricade. Their efforts seemed to anticipate possible actions from some protesters who marched with them, including anarchist groups who earlier clashed with police and set fire to a container van barricade at Ayala Bridge. But as soon as the organized dispersal was announced and the truck carrying sound equipment departed, no one could stop the angry youth who surged forward. Some marshals stayed behind and attempted to de-escalate the situation, but they were quickly outnumbered by protesters chanting that corruption could not be left unchallenged.

Among the flags raised that day were anarchist banners, along with the unmistakable Straw Hat Pirates’ Jolly Roger from the manga and anime One Piece—a symbol repurposed to express defiance and freedom, just as Monkey D. Luffy did in the series. Regardless of their affiliations, these were young people with little left to lose, channeling their rage at systemic corruption and injustice.

Plastic bottles hurled toward the police soon gave way to rocks. Police responded with flash bangs, piercing high-frequency sounds, and water cannons. This did not stop the youth. Concrete barriers were dismantled, and police retreated.

The situation escalated further when police deployed tear gas. I instinctively followed the protesters running toward Recto, even though I knew the wind was carrying the smoke in that direction. I felt less safe heading the opposite way. Soon the gas caught up with me—I could no longer breathe, my eyes stung, and I stumbled into a nearby 7-Eleven. Inside, several young protesters were crying, washing their faces on the already soaked floor. I searched for vinegar, a common antidote I had learned about while covering urban poor demolitions during the Noynoy Aquino administration. Finding none, I bought bottled water instead. Seeing the cashier visibly stressed, perhaps fearing looting, I left extra money for the purchases of those who hadn’t been able to pay yet, and stepped back outside despite some youth warning me it was still dangerous.

The most harrowing scenes were of police brutality. I witnessed young protesters being arrested, then kicked, punched, struck, and manhandled by officers. Some of these youth offered no resistance, yet the blows rained down on them. Some even lost their dignity and were almost stripped naked.  Members of the SWAT were in full battle gear. When the commotion died down, I managed to ask one SWAT member if their bullets were live or just rubber bullets. He told me that the shots earlier were just like fireworks. He didn’t answer me directly. It was an extreme and disproportionate response to unarmed demonstrators—another reminder of how the state treats those who dare to resist.

Much has since been said online about the confrontation, which stretched into the evening. We do not yet know if provocateurs were planted to spark the commotion and discredit the protests. History tells us this is possible, but it also reminds us that such claims must be investigated before accusations are made.

Still, who are we to dismiss their anger and their chosen form of protest? Years of pent-up frustration against a system that has left them on the margins have reached a boiling point. For many, a “peaceful” protest no longer feels sufficient. Instead of condemning or spinning conspiracy theories, the challenge lies in organizing this anger and channeling it toward meaningful change. Because even if this wave of protests produces accountability, the rot in the system will persist unless the struggle for systemic change prevails.

The September 21 protest laid bare both the determination of the youth and the lengths to which authorities will go to suppress them. For me, the day underscored the role of journalists not only to document these moments but also to situate them within the larger struggle against corruption and systemic injustice. (DAA)