By Remie Degoma

It started as a murmur—whispers of disbelief and outrage spreading from small neighborhood gatherings to massive city rallies. Then, it grew into a resounding cry echoing across the Philippines and in Filipino communities worldwide: "Bring Duterte home!" 

The arrest of former President Rodrigo Duterte by the International Criminal Court (ICC) has sparked a movement unlike any in recent history. In the streets of Manila, in the heart of Europe, and in quiet corners of distant cities, Filipinos—OFWs, farmers, vendors, professionals—are coming together, driven by one shared belief: that the man they once called Tatay Digong should not face this alone. 

From the Streets of Manila: A Mother's Tears and a Vendor's Plea In Manila’s Luneta Park, where thousands have gathered in protest, 60-year-old Nanay Rosa clutches a framed photo of Duterte. It’s from the time he visited their barangay in Davao. "He shook my hand once," she recalls, her voice shaking. "I told him I was afraid of my neighborhood because of the drug pushers. 

He looked me in the eyes and said, ‘Di kita pababayaan, Nay’ (I won’t abandon you, Nanay). He kept that promise. Now, they’re treating him like a criminal?" 

Nearby, Mang Ben, a street vendor, sells Duterte-themed shirts while keeping an eye on the rally. Business is good today, but that’s not why he’s here. "I don’t care about making money today. I came because Duterte made people like me feel safe. I want my children to grow up in a country that respects its leaders, not one that surrenders them to foreign courts." 

In The Hague 

OFWs Take a Stand Thousands of miles away, outside the ICC building in The Hague, the Filipino diaspora stands firm. They sing Lupang Hinirang, the Philippine national anthem, their voices carrying across the cold European air. 

Among them is Leah, a nurse who has lived in the Netherlands for 15 years. "When I heard the news, I felt like I had been punched in the gut," she says. "I work in a foreign country, but my heart will always be in the Philippines. Duterte fought for us, for our families back home. Now, we fight for him." 

She’s joined by Ramon, a security guard from Dubai who took a two-day leave just to be here. "We are OFWs, but we are still Filipinos," he declares. "And we will not watch silently as they humiliate our former president." 

A Family's Plea

 "We Will Not Be Silenced" The Duterte family, meanwhile, has remained defiant. Vice President Sara Duterte, his daughter, has called the arrest "a political attack disguised as justice." 

"We will not be silenced. We will not stop until my father is home." Her words ignite the crowd. Many of them—tricycle drivers, fishermen, students—feel they owe Duterte their safety, their livelihood, their dignity. 

They chant louder, their voices rising into the night. A Nation at a Crossroads Not everyone agrees. Human rights activists argue that justice must be served, that the victims of the drug war deserve their day in court. It is a painful divide, one that runs deep within families, friendships, and the country itself. 

But for the thousands rallying across the globe, this is not just about politics. It’s about loyalty, gratitude, and a leader who—right or wrong—made them feel heard. As the legal battle rages on, one thing is clear: the story of Rodrigo Duterte is far from over. 

Whether in the courts of The Hague or in the hearts of his supporters, his legacy continues to shape the destiny of the Philippines. And until he returns, the chants will not stop. "Bring Duterte home!"