Where Words Reign: The 2026 HKBU International Writers Workshop Invites the World’s Boldest Storytellers to Hong Kong

Wazzup Pilipinas!?

In a world gripped by chaos, disconnection, and digital noise, storytelling remains our most powerful weapon — and sanctuary. In 2026, that weapon finds its sharpening stone in the beating heart of Asia.

The Hong Kong Baptist University (HKBU) is once again opening the doors to one of the most coveted literary residencies in the region — the HKBU International Writers Workshop (IWW). Slated for March 2 to 29, 2026, this fully funded program will gather exceptional writers from across the globe in Hong Kong, offering not only a creative retreat but a cultural and intellectual convergence of the highest order.

No fees. No borders. No limits. Just the written word — in its purest, boldest form.

An Oasis for Writers in a World of Distraction

Imagine stepping away from the rush of your daily life to find yourself immersed in an international community of storytellers, each bringing a unique voice, history, and vision to the table. For four intense weeks, selected writers will live, write, and grow together — under the guidance and support of HKBU’s internationally acclaimed literary mentors and academic environment.

The best part? This rare opportunity costs nothing. The university will shoulder roundtrip airfare, accommodation, and provide a daily allowance to cover living expenses throughout the residency. There are no registration or participation fees, and more importantly, no age restrictions — a radical act of inclusion in a world that often places creativity on a ticking clock.

Whether you're a poet in your 60s, a dramatist in your 20s, or a novelist mid-career seeking new ground to break, if you’ve published at least one book, you’re eligible to apply.

The Global Stage Awaits

This is not just a workshop; it is a high-stakes intersection of cultures, languages, and disciplines. Writers will gather from every corner of the world to engage in workshops, dialogues, and literary exchanges that transcend borders. The program opens with a Welcome Ceremony, an intimate setting for introductions, reflections, and mapping the month ahead.

It culminates in the IWW Literary Festival, a high-profile event where participating writers will share their work publicly — provided it aligns with the festival’s 2026 theme: “Here and There.” This theme invites writers to interrogate the fragile tension between origin and destination, memory and imagination, nation and identity. It is as much about storytelling as it is about bearing witness.

What’s at Stake? Everything.

This isn’t about networking for a publishing deal or showing off on social media. The HKBU Writers Workshop is about the integrity of creation — about giving writers the space, time, and resources to confront the page and, in doing so, confront the world.

It is for writers who understand that the blank page is sacred.

It is for those who believe that literature is still a weapon, a refuge, a bridge.

It is for those who carry stories inside them that will not let them rest.

Eligibility at a Glance

To be considered, applicants must:

Have published at least one book in any genre.

Be currently residing outside of Hong Kong.

Possess strong proficiency in English or Chinese (Mandarin or Cantonese).

Commit to the entire residency period, from March 2 to March 29, 2026.

Be prepared to participate in both the Welcome Ceremony and Literary Festival.

How to Apply

Writers must submit the following materials as a single PDF document to iww@hkbu.edu.hk by the deadline of September 7, 2025:

A one-page Artist’s Statement in English or Chinese (Chinese statements must include a short English summary).

A sample of 12–15 pages of recent creative work, in any of the following genres: fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction, drama, libretti, digital writing, or graphic forms.

A curriculum vitae or resume.

Contact details of two referees.

A copy of the applicant’s passport.

All documents must be formatted in 12-point font with 1-inch margins.

A Legacy in the Making

There are residencies that offer comfort. Others offer connection. Rarely does one offer both — wrapped in the fierce intellectual climate of one of Asia’s most cosmopolitan cities.

Hong Kong is not merely a backdrop for this residency. It is a participant — vibrant, complex, and unyieldingly modern. To write in Hong Kong is to write on the edge of contradiction and beauty, ancient roots and electric progress.

For the writers who are chosen, this workshop will be a turning point — in their work, in their voice, in their personal narrative. Their time at HKBU will not be a pause in their journey, but a defining chapter.

So, if you are a writer who is not content with comfort zones, who wishes to interrogate the world through language, and who still believes in the revolutionary potential of literature — this is your invitation.

Answer the call. Apply before September 7, 2025. The world is waiting for your story.

Naga Sets Bold New Standard in Disaster Governance: A Whole-of-Community Call to Action

Wazzup Pilipinas!?

In a decisive and visionary move to confront the rising tide of climate threats and disaster risks, the City Government of Naga has redefined the future of local disaster governance.

With the signing of Executive Order No. 016, Mayor Leni Robredo has not only reconstituted the Naga City Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Council (NCDRRMC), but has also reshaped it into a more powerful, inclusive, and future-proofed engine of resilience. By bringing in voices from across society—youth, business, agriculture, marginalized groups, and utilities—Naga is boldly declaring that resilience is everyone’s responsibility.

“The changing climate and emerging risks necessitate a stronger, more coordinated structure for disaster risk management. We believe that by involving more sectors, we can build a more resilient city,” Mayor Robredo declared.

This isn’t just a bureaucratic expansion—it is a paradigm shift. It’s a call for every resident, institution, and stakeholder to stand together in anticipation of storms, earthquakes, and other crises that may strike without warning.

A Council That Reflects the Pulse of the People

The expanded council now serves as a microcosm of Naga itself—diverse, dynamic, and united. The inclusion of representatives from the Sangguniang Kabataan Federation, urban poor, education, gender and development, solid waste management, and local business sector, ensures that decisions about disaster response and preparedness are grounded in the lived experiences and priorities of every citizen.

Alongside key department heads, uniformed services, and infrastructure agencies such as the Department of Public Works and Highways, Philippine Army, Philippine National Police, and Bureau of Fire Protection, the council now features utilities like the Camarines Sur II Electric Cooperative and the Metro Naga Water District—a crucial step in ensuring continuity of essential services when disasters hit.

City Councilor Allan Reiz Macaraig, chair of the Sangguniang Panlungsod Committee on Disaster Risk and Resilience, has been named co-chair, joining forces with Mayor Robredo to lead a truly multi-sectoral disaster council.

From Planning to Action: What the NCDRRMC Will Do

The newly empowered NCDRRMC has three core mandates under EO 016:

Rigorous Oversight of Local Disaster Plans – It will approve, monitor, and evaluate Local Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Plans (LDRRMPs), ensuring they remain dynamic and responsive through regular reviews and drills.

Mainstreaming DRRM and Climate Adaptation – Disaster risk reduction and climate change adaptation will now be integral to all development strategies, turning resilience into a cornerstone of sustainable growth and poverty alleviation.

Pre-emptive Decision-Making for Public Safety – When needed, the council can recommend forced or pre-emptive evacuations, enabling Naga to act swiftly and save lives even before a calamity strikes.

Towards a Culture of Resilience

Naga’s approach embodies the “whole-of-community” model long espoused by global experts but rarely implemented in such a comprehensive manner at the local level.

This isn't just disaster preparedness—it’s a movement. It’s a commitment to build a city where farmers are as prepared as firefighters, where students are empowered to lead in times of crisis, and where businesses, barangays, and civil society converge to shield every corner of the community.

In the face of more frequent typhoons, unpredictable weather patterns, and rising seas, Naga is not waiting to be rescued—it is taking charge.

The Message Is Clear

This expansion of the NCDRRMC is not just a policy—it’s a promise. A promise that no voice will be left out of the conversation on survival. A promise that resilience will not be the burden of the few but the responsibility of all.

And it is a message to other cities and municipalities across the Philippines: Resilience starts now. Resilience starts with everyone.

In Naga, disaster risk governance is no longer confined to a committee room. It’s a citywide effort, deeply rooted in collaboration, foresight, and action. And with this bold step forward, the city once again proves that its greatest strength lies in the power of its people—united, informed, and ready.

Beyond the Postcard: A Journey into the Heart of Western Visayas’ Indigenous Cultures

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Once upon a time, I believed a destination could be fully captured in a single frame—a beach kissed by turquoise waters, a mountain crowned by clouds, a vibrant street market bustling with life. I thought that the most beautiful places were those that looked good in pictures. But travel—real travel—taught me otherwise.

Over time, I began to understand that the soul of a place isn’t found in its views alone, but in its people. In their stories. In the culture they fiercely protect against the tides of change. This deeper awareness turned my wanderlust into a mission—not just to explore, but to listen, to connect, and to honor the guardians of heritage we so often overlook.

My journey through Western Visayas brought this truth to life. From the coastal edges of Negros Occidental to the mountainous heart of Iloilo, I immersed myself in three extraordinary indigenous communities: the Ata of Sagay, the Panay-Bukidnon of Calinog, and the Ati of Barotac Viejo. What I encountered was a tapestry of resilience, identity, and culture that defies time.

Calinog’s Panay-Bukidnon: Guardians of an Oral Empire

In the highlands of Panay Island, far from the din of city life, the Panay-Bukidnon people continue to walk a path rooted in ancestral memory. Also known as the Suludnon or Tumandok, they have withstood centuries of colonization and modernization to preserve their language, Ligbok, and their cultural expressions: the soul-stirring sugidanon (epic chants), the majestic binanog dance, and the exquisite panubok embroidery that speaks in patterns of nature and myth.

In Calinog, I met the family of the late Federico Caballero, a National Living Treasure and a revered chanter who kept the ancient Hinilawod epic alive, word for sacred word. His passing in August 2024 marked the end of an era—but his legacy lives on through his wife Lucia Caballero, herself a fierce cultural matriarch and a recipient of the Unsung Woman Hero award for championing Panay-Bukidnon heritage.

Their village has become a beacon for those who wish to learn—not just about their traditions, but from them. With homestays open to guests, visitors can experience the local cuisine, attend lectures on traditional arts, and witness live performances that span generations. There’s even a School of Living Traditions, where children learn to chant, dance, and sew as their ancestors did, all while attending formal education.

Years earlier, I encountered this same community in Capiz, where I met an elderly couple—Mang Kune and Nanay Modena. She had once been a binukot, a noblewoman kept in seclusion from childhood to preserve her grace and mystique. But the practice has faded. “We sent our daughters to school,” Mang Kune said simply, with no regret—just the quiet realization that traditions evolve, even as they are remembered.

Sagay’s Ata: From River to Ridge, A New Beginning

On the island of Negros, tucked into the highlands of Sagay City, lives the Ata community—a people who once lived by the river, roaming as nature dictated. That nomadic life changed after a catastrophic flood forced them to resettle in what is now known as Purok Ata in Barangay Puey.

Here, they built more than just homes. They built a future—complete with a daycare, a community clinic, and a growing number of houses occupied by families eager to preserve their way of life. Elders have become educators, ensuring the transmission of customs and language. Children are no longer just the future; they are the living continuity of a proud people.

I arrived just in time for Ata Day, their annual celebration every November. There were performances of the inagong courtship dance and demonstrations of pispis, the art of mimicking bird calls. They welcomed us not just as guests, but as witnesses to a culture often pushed to the periphery.

Despite this joyful display, I learned a sobering truth: though many residents value their heritage, only about 30% actively practice it. The celebration of Ata Day, then, isn’t merely ceremonial—it’s essential. It is a line drawn in the sand against cultural erasure. Without it, their stories risk fading into silence.

Barotac Viejo’s Ati: Brewing Identity in Every Cup

In a quiet corner of Iloilo lies Barangay Nagpana, home to the Ati people—a group connected by ancestry to the Aeta of Luzon, the Batak of Palawan, and the Mamanwa of Mindanao. What makes this community remarkable is how they’ve taken something as simple as coffee and turned it into a vessel for heritage.

At Balay Kape Nagpana, the Ati operate a community-run, seed-to-cup coffee enterprise, cultivating robusta beans that thrive in the forested hills surrounding their village. The women handpick and roast the beans with care, producing blends that are as rich in flavor as they are in meaning.

Their signature brew, Kape Miro, is named after the Asian palm civet, which helps ferment the coffee berries in the wild. Before we even took our first sip, we were greeted by a welcome dance and a heartfelt song, both of which recounted the Ati’s own story of struggle, survival, and pride.

Here, culture isn’t preserved in museums or festivals alone—it’s sipped daily, shared among neighbors, and sold to help sustain the community. Their enterprise is more than business. It is defiance. It is dignity.

The Real Treasure of Travel

What struck me most in visiting these three communities wasn’t their costumes or rituals. It was their grace under pressure. In a world that tempts even the strongest cultures to assimilate and forget, the Ata, the Panay-Bukidnon, and the Ati remain steadfast.

They are not relics of the past. They are beacons of identity in a homogenizing world.

For those of us who travel, let us not be content with merely collecting sunsets and selfies. Let us collect stories. Let us sit at the table, share the meal, listen to the chant, and dance to the rhythm of a people who have survived centuries of displacement, neglect, and change.

Let us travel not just to escape, but to engage. Not just to consume beauty, but to protect meaning.

Because in these quiet villages, far from the neon lights and viral reels, lie the true treasures of our nation’s soul. And it is only by stepping into their world—not to change it, but to understand it—that we become part of something greater than ourselves.

And maybe, just maybe, we find a part of ourselves that we never knew was missing.