Fare of sacrifices: How Aldwyn reached his destination as a successful graduate and family pillar

Before the first light of dawn touched the streets of Marabulig II, Cauayan City, Isabela, the familiar hum of a tricycle engine echoed through the quiet morning air — not the usual sound of a father preparing for another long day of driving, but instead, the rumble of a tricycle getting ready for something much more special.

Inside their modest home, patched together with plywood and dreams, 18-year-old Aldwyn Delmendo,  son of a tricycle driver and a housewife, was about to experience his greatest day. Instead of his father heading out for another day of pamamasada and his mother tending to her grandchildren, they were both putting on their best shirts, ready to watch their son walk across the stage, not as the boy from a small barrio, but as a proud high school graduate.

Today, the same tricycle that had taken him to school through dusty roads and rain-soaked mornings would now carry him to his graduation, his ticket to a future beyond the cycle of daily struggle.

Before Aldwyn could arrive at this significant day, he first had to navigate the long and winding road of sacrifice and surrender.

At a young age, much like a shift in gears that propels a tricycle up a steep incline, Aldwyn realized he had to make a decisive turn in life to keep moving forward. He grew up in a humble dwelling where the walls were made with hollow blocks with no finishing, his room had no door but only a curtain, and the floor occasionally surrendered to floods.

He dreamt of becoming an architect, a builder of grand ideas. However, as he grew older, he became more aware of the weight his dreams placed on their reality. The cost of an architecture degree was too steep, especially for a family that had long learned to make do with less.

“Pangarap ko talagang maging arkitekto [noong] bata ako. I always believed that it was my calling. Pero as years went by, when I had my own enlightenment in life, I figured that it [wouldn't] be a wise choice. Masyadong mahal, mahirap, at inconvenient. I really want to help immediately when I graduate, kaya it was also quick for me to come to terms with the truth that I cannot pursue that profession,” he said in an interview.

Instead of clinging to a dream that could stall his family’s progress, he downshifted and rerouted. He discovered new paths — journalism, mathematics, voice acting, visual arts, and digital design — avenues that did not just inspire him, but also allowed him to support his family early on.

At 15, Aldwyn already began to work and became a freelance voiceover artist, lending his voice to public events, pageants, and more. With his earnings, he started paying for his own school expenses and, eventually, even helping out at home.

Aldwyn did not know that, long before he began steering his own life, his father, tatay Rolando, 59, had already been quietly gripping the manibela of their family’s life, guiding his son’s path with every turn of the wheel.

Much like how a handlebar directs every turn of a tricycle, Aldwyn found his guidance not from maps or manuals, but from the steady hands of the man who drove him — literally and figuratively — every single day.

Since 1994, tatay Rolando has traversed the same routes, braving the sun’s scorching heat and the sky’s relentless downpour. Rain or shine, his tricycle rolls out of Marabulig II before dawn, not just for passengers, but for a purpose.

He is one of the almost 140,000 registered tricycle drivers in Region II who, despite the long hours and the difficult work, rise each day without seeking recognition, driven only by the mission to provide a better life for their families.

The income may be unstable, the hours long, and the physical toll accumulating over time. Yet, tatay Rolando never complained, because for him, every kilometer traveled was a small investment in his son’s future.

While others may have seen just another tricycle winding through crowded streets, Aldwyn saw a moving symbol of love and a vehicle powered not just by gasoline but by grit. The kind of grit that refused to let poverty define the limit of one’s possibilities.

“[Siyempre], kailangang magtrabaho para sa mga pang-araw-araw na pangangailangan. Kahit pagod na ang katawan, basta para sa pamilya, kakayanin. Wala naman kasing ibang aasahan kundi sarili ko, kaya kahit mahirap, tuloy lang. Basta alam kong para sa kinabukasan ng mga anak ko, 'di ako titigil,” said tatay Rolando.

For many, a tricycle is just a means of transport — a noisy three-wheeled vehicle zigzagging through narrow streets. However, for Aldwyn, those wheels were emblems of movement despite wear, and of silent dignity often overlooked in society.

There is a certain stereotype that clings to tricycle drivers that they are limited by their trade, that their world starts and ends with short trips and loose coins. Some people look down on them, equating the grease on their hands with a lack of ambition or education. However, what they fail to see is what Aldwyn knew all too well: those wheels turn not just for survival, but for devotion.

“Hindi nila nauunawaan na ang pagiging tricycle driver ay hindi lang hanapbuhay, isa 'tong anyo ng pagmamahal na walang hinihinging kapalit. Sa bawat pag-andar ng tricycle ni papa, kasabay [nito] ang takbo ng mga pangarap naming [kaniyang] binubuhay,” said Aldwyn.

He never measured his father’s worth by daily income. Instead, he counted the times his father was never late to bring him to school, the warm dinners despite hard days, and the feeling of being supported even when money was tight.

Just as a tricycle needs more than wheels to move, Aldwyn’s journey was not fueled by his father alone. At home, it was nanay Arlene, 53, Aldwyn’s mother, who held the family together.

A full-time homemaker, she cared not just for Aldwyn, but also for the children of his older sister. While her husband fought exhaustion on the road, nanay Arlene fought fatigue in the household by ensuring their home was taken care of, even if that meant sacrificing for herself.

“Si mama po, magsasakripisyong ibigay lahat ng [puwede] niyang ibigay sa'kin, lalo na sa pagkain. Kapag may biglaan akong kailangan na damit kinabukasan, isasakripisyo niyang maglaba sa gabi habang ginagawa ko 'yung mga requirements ko. Isusuko nila lahat ng personal joy and gain nila just to have me continue my path,” Aldwyn shared.

Then there were his older brother and sister. Though older by more than a decade, they stood by him like spare tires, ready to carry the load when needed. They remained his constant companions in life’s tougher terrains, offering him quiet encouragement, helping with school needs, and emotional support when things got rough.

Because for the Delmendos, the road was never easy, but the wheels never stopped turning.

So, just like that, the wheels begin to slow down not because the journey is over, but because one destination has finally been reached.

Long before the medals and the applause, Aldwyn was just a humble boy riding at the back of a tricycle, watching life blur past from behind his father’s shoulder. What he did not know then was that he was already learning the rhythm of hard work, the direction of persistence, and the value of purpose. 

That boy is now a campus journalist, not just any, but a director and scriptwriter whose words carried the voice of his team all the way to victory. Their group, through stories written with clarity and conviction, was awarded Best TV Newscast at the TV Broadcasting and Scriptwriting Secondary Filipino category in the recently concluded Regional Schools Press Conference of Cagayan Valley, and is now bound for the National Schools Press Conference (NSPC) in Vigan City.

At the same time, he finished his senior high school journey at Cauayan City Stand-Alone Senior High School, earning a distinction of With Highest Honors. For every kilometer his father drove, for every meal his mother prepared, and for every quiet nod of encouragement from his siblings, Aldwyn now walks the graduation stage carrying all of them with him.

He is now setting his sights on college, determined to be the first in his family to earn a diploma and drive their story even further down the road of hope.

In the same way that a tricycle's journey is not always about how fast it can go, but how steady and sure it can be, Aldwyn learned that success was not a race. The road ahead might still be bumpy, but he was ready, for he had already learned the most important lesson: it is not the obstacles that define the journey, but the courage to keep moving forward, no matter how challenging the ride.

Before the last light of dusk touched the streets of their city, Aldwyn walked with his head held high, the clang of his medals around his neck ringing louder than the hum of his father’s tricycle — as if to say that this time, it was his triumph echoing through their neighborhood, not just the engine of another day’s survival.