Opinion

There is a particular moment in every Filipino basketball game when somebody on the sidelines becomes a coach. It does not matter if the game is in the PBA, UAAP, NBA, or a barangay court with one hoop, a cracked backboard, and a dog wandering underneath it. Somebody always knows what the team should be doing. “Pass!” “Box out!” “Take the shot!” “Why is he still playing?” It is not necessarily criticism. It is participation.

In 1986, the Philippines stood at a historic crossroads. Fresh from the People Power Revolution, the country embraced a vibrant democratic morning with a distinct economic head start in Southeast Asia. Across the South China Sea, Vietnam was in dire straits—reeling from decades of war, international isolation, and hyperinflation. Yet that very year, Hanoi launched Doi Moi, an ambitious series of economic reforms meant to transition from a rigid command economy toward a more market-driven system.

At Context.ph, we have always believed that journalism should meet readers where they are. The way people consume news continues to evolve, and our responsibility as a digital publication is to evolve with them.

A car can tell you many things. It can tell you that a door is open, a tire needs air, a passenger has forgotten to buckle up, or that you are getting dangerously close to the vehicle in front of you. What it cannot tell you is why you have been sitting in the same spot for 23 minutes. This is the peculiar economics of driving in the Philippines. We fork over a great deal of money buying cars that can go very fast, and then spend a considerable portion of our lives making sure they do not.

Senator-judge Raffy Tulfo asked a deceptively simple question during Vice President Sara Duterte’s impeachment trial: Why did no one in her legal orbit tell her to divest from her businesses before she took her oath?