In New Cuyo, Palawan, play used to look different.
For many parents, it meant finishing chores first—fetching water, washing clothes, helping in the fields—before finding small moments to play with whatever was available.
As Emelyn Cabanigan Paredes, a mother in the community, remembers:
“Back then, we didn’t have toys to play with except those we found in our farm. There were no playgrounds during that time.”
That reality hadn’t changed much for the next generation. The nearest playground was three hours away—far beyond what most families could reach.
But this year, something new arrived in New Cuyo.
When families first heard that two playgrounds would be built at New Cuyo Elementary School, it felt almost unbelievable.
“The parents were very happy because we cannot afford to go… or pay just for our children to experience playing in a playground.”
Hope was there—but so was uncertainty.
It wasn’t until the materials arrived, and volunteers joined community members working under the heat of the sun, that the vision became real.
“I saw that the people building it were from other countries… That is why we parents also did our best to help, because this is for our children.”
What emerged wasn’t just a construction project—it was a shared effort, built side by side.
For teachers like Cherry Ann Verdida, the transformation was immediate—and profound.
Before the playground, playtime was unstructured:
“The children would just run around and chase each other. They didn’t really have a proper place to play.”
When the playground arrived, it brought something entirely new—not just equipment, but opportunity.
“Through play, children learn so many things… how to socialize with others, wait for their turn, make decisions, and explore.”
For many students, this was their first time encountering swings, slides, and structured play spaces. They had to learn how to use them—testing, observing, helping one another figure it out.
What began as curiosity quickly turned into confidence.
By the time the playgrounds were complete, the space came alive.
Children played for hours—moving from swings to slides, and especially to the basketball court, which quickly became a favorite.
For students like Stephen Cabanillias, that change was simple but powerful:
“I am super, super happy because we now have a playground! Before, we had to go to the big gym just to play… sometimes the adults play for a long time, so we have to wait.”
Now, that’s no longer the case:
“We don’t have to wait anymore because we already have our own basketball court here in our school!”
The playground became more than a place to play—it became a place to gather, to belong, and to share with others.
“My siblings and my friends are super happy too! I will also bring my other friends here so we can all play together.”
For parents like Emelyn, the impact shows up in everyday moments.
“My child even says, ‘Mama, I’m going to school,’ and I would reply, ‘There are no classes today,’ but he would say, ‘I’ll just go to the playground.’”
What was once out of reach is now part of daily life—a space where children return again and again, not because they have to, but because they want to.
“The joy of my child and his classmates is truly overwhelming because most of them have never experienced playing in a playground before.”
These playgrounds are more than structures—they are the result of shared effort and a community investing in its children.
As Cherry Ann shared:
“This playground is very valuable… it gives our children a place where they can learn and explore.”
For families like Emelyn’s, the impact is simple and immediate:
A place to play.
A place to gather.
A place that’s now part of everyday life.