By: Daniel Enrico
Some talents are discovered onstage; others simply find a place to be seen. Long before Hibalag, three Sillimanians were already finding their voices in living rooms, rehearsals, and auditions where their love for music began to take root.
At Hibalag, they brought those journeys to the stage, sharing not just performances, but pieces of the music they had carried long before the crowd came to listen.
Her First Stage
Aya Mikhaela Lyn Lubon never needed a big crowd to take the stage seriously.
Long before the festival, there were karaoke nights at home, where her father would sing and play different instruments. Music came naturally in that environment, and Aya eventually found herself singing along.
By seventh grade, she was already making her own covers after her father gave her a microphone. She translated K-pop songs into English, recorded them through audio recording app, mixed them herself, and even animated videos. It was something she did simply because she enjoyed it.
Dumaguete changed the way Aya saw music. At local gigs and among the musicians she met, she began to discover there was more to it than simply listening to a song. Behind the music were people, stories, performances, and a community.
“It was then I realized how much more could be appreciated and admired,” she said.
As Aya spent more time around that community, performing became a bigger part of her life in Silliman. She continued taking the stage, often alongside Corps d’ Elite, the dance group she had performed with for years. For her, the stage became a place where singing and dancing could come together.
That familiarity with the stage made this year’s Hibalag another chance to perform, but on a larger scale. The experience also came with a different kind of pressure. Placed right before the main act for the third year in a row, Aya felt responsible for bringing the crowd’s energy up before the night’s main performer took the stage. Performing for hundreds of people made the experience different from her usual gigs.
Two days before the show, however, Aya sprained her ankle, limiting how much she could move onstage. The performance brought another challenge when her in-ear monitors failed, leaving her unable to properly hear herself sing and only rely on instinct and muscle memory.
“Everything I sung on stage was a guessing game whether I was on tune or not.”
It was not the first time Aya had performed without perfect circumstances. Years earlier, she had sung at the Amphitheater for only a handful of people, but the size of the crowd had never changed how much she gave onstage.
Made in Dumaguete
P-pop has its stages in the country’s bigger cities, but Rakhim “RAKS” Tahir is building his own from Dumaguete.
His first introduction to music was simple enough. At six, his aunt taught him to sing through karaoke, while his father’s CD playlists gave him something to listen to at home. Singing competitions followed, and somewhere along the way, a childhood activity became a dream.
He once pursued the chance to debut as part of a group, joining auditions, a survival show, and a training camp before eventually finding his way back to being a solo artist.
This year’s Hibalag gave RAKS another stage to show what that path had led him to. At AkweChella, he performed as one of the night’s local artists, bringing P-pop to a stage shared with fellow Sillimanian and Dumaguete performers.
Wanting to make his return to the stage memorable, RAKS brought in dancers from Skip Dance Family, a group he had known since he was younger. Together, they worked on a performance built around the sound and image he wanted to bring to the crowd.
The performance was another step in a journey he is still trying to figure out. As an independent artist, RAKS continues to face the challenge of building an audience, finding his sound, and making a name for himself.
But at this year’s Hibalag, he had the chance to bring his music before a crowd and show them the artist he is becoming. As RAKS continues his journey, P-pop remains at the center of it, a sound he carries with him from Dumaguete wherever the next stage may be.
When Music Called
Thea Karis Burgos knows what it feels like when music suddenly disappears from everyday life.
After senior high school, she left Silliman to study Architecture in Cagayan de Oro, choosing what she thought was a more practical artistic path, but something was missing.
“My life that was full of rehearsals, sound checks, projects, and concerts was gone for those five months,” she said.
That absence made the answer clearer. “I came back to the things that truly mattered in my life.”
Now a first-year Music Education student, Thea has returned to the kind of music that has always felt like home; versatile, expressive, and rooted in both performance and storytelling. Her voice moves comfortably from the harmonies of the SU Campus Choristers to the arrangements of the Big Band and Concert Band, while she also serves through the Music Ministry of the SU Church. Years of musical theater have added another dimension to her craft, from playing Glinda in “Broadway After Hours” to taking on Isabela and Kim through COPVA’s Extension Program.
This year, however, Thea found herself stepping into unfamiliar territory as a solo artist. When she was invited to perform at Akwechella, the opportunity came with excitement but also uncertainty, especially for someone more accustomed to performing as part of an ensemble or production. “Who am I to be chosen to perform for Akwe?” she wondered, a question that captured just how new and significant that opportunity felt to her.
With “August Rush,” the musical production she was part of, already demanding long hours of rehearsals, Thea had little room to spare. Still, her friends helped her through the unfamiliar territory of performing solo, from song choices and choreography to wardrobe and makeup. Despite the demanding pace, she made it to the Akwechella stage.
For Thea, the answer to why she keeps returning to music is simple. “Music does not just define what I do. It’s genuinely who I am.”
When the last song faded and the lights went down, nothing about their artistry ended with the festival. Hibalag was only one night in lives already in motion and the next song, performance, and dream were theirs to carry forward.
