Children are killing children. What excuse this time?

Ilang bata pa ang kailangang mamatay bago tumigil sa paghanap ng palusot?

In less than two months, the Philippines has seen two fatal school shootings—first in Tacloban, then at Ateneo de Zamboanga University. Something many Filipinos thought happened only in other countries has now happened here.

Twice.

In Zamboanga, a student entered school carrying two guns. He did not climb a fence or overpower a guard. He arrived in a vehicle and, unlike students entering on foot, was not searched.

Minutes later, one student was dead, another was wounded, and the young shooter had taken his own life.

Almost immediately, people started asking what was wrong with the child. Was he bullied? Depressed? Under pressure in school? Was he influenced by violent games, social media or online groups?

Those questions matter. But perhaps we keep asking what was wrong with the child because that is easier than asking what the adults did wrong.

Paano nakapasok ang dalawang baril sa classroom?

THE SECURITY HOLE

Students entering on foot were inspected. The vehicle carrying the guns was not.

There were guards, rules and inspections—but two guns still reached a classroom.

The school’s security had a hole big enough for two firearms to pass through. Students on foot were treated as possible risks; those arriving in vehicles were trusted.

The firearms belonged to the shooter’s father, a Bureau of Customs police officer. Customs officials said they had been left inside the family vehicle.

According to the Department of the Interior and Local Government, the school had 25 security guards, 15 of whom were on duty that morning.

The system followed its own rules—and two guns still got through.

That maybe worse.

THE EASY SCAPEGOATS

Let us stop looking for easy excuses.

This was not one failure, but several.

Investigators may uncover bullying, personal anger, mental-health struggles or exposure to violent online communities. But a motive explains why someone wanted to attack. It does not explain how a child obtained two guns and brought them into school.

That part belongs to the adults.

School shootings remain rare in the Philippines. Technically, that is still true. But “rare” can become an excuse—permission to treat each attack as a freak event instead of asking whether the same failures are repeating.

How many warnings do we require before prevention becomes urgent?

Authorities are investigating whether the shooter had been influenced by violent games or online groups. That possibility must be examined, but it has not been proven.

Video games, social media and mental illness are easy targets. They give adults somewhere else to point.

Millions of children play violent games without killing anyone. Many suffer from depression, bullying or school pressure without becoming violent. But some online spaces feed anger, glorify cruelty and turn violence into entertainment.

The attack was livestreamed, suggesting that being watched may have been part of the act. Then the public helped spread it.

People who would never hand a child a gun still helped circulate what the gun had done.

Curiosity is human, but clicking “share” is a choice. Sharing the footage retraumatizes survivors, violates the dignity of the dead and may give the shooter the attention he wanted.

We should not help complete the performance.

THE ADULTS IN THE ROOM

A firearm is not a phone or an umbrella. Leaving one inside a vehicle is not some unforeseeable accident. It is a failure to secure a lethal weapon.

If you own a gun, you are responsible for keeping it away from children. The explanation that the guns had been left inside the family vehicle cannot be the end of the discussion.

It must be the beginning of accountability.

Otherwise, the child who pulled the trigger becomes the whole story, while the adult who made the weapons accessible is treated only as another victim.

Parents must ask what their children watch, whom they speak to online and which warning signs they may be missing. Parents who own guns must know where those weapons are—and notice immediately if one is missing.

Schools have responsibilities too. Students and teachers must know what to do during an armed attack. Fire and earthquake drills are no longer enough.

Then there is mental health.

We claim children’s mental health matters; our budget shows what that claim is worth.

According to Education Secretary Sonny Angara, DepEd needs 48,000 school counselor associates—one for every school. The 2026 budget funds only 10,000 positions.

Thousands of schools may still lack a trained staff member focused on recognizing when a child is in serious trouble.

Mental health may explain part of what happened. It does not erase responsibility. Both children were failed by safeguards that should have protected them—but not in the same way. One needed help before he became violent. The other needed adults to keep a gun out of his classroom.

There will be investigations, hearings and promises of tighter security, stronger gun laws and better mental-health programs.

We know this routine: public anger fades, cameras leave and promises shrink.

The real test begins after the funerals, when classes resume and Ateneo de Zamboanga disappears from the headlines.

Will gun owners face consequences for leaving firearms within reach? Will schools close their security gaps? Will government fund the counselors children need?

Or will we blame the troubled child again because holding adults accountable is harder?

The shooting did not begin when the first shot was fired. It began wherever responsibility failed: with the accessible gun, the vehicle waved through, the help that may not have come in time and the screen that turned killing into content.

It began in the moments when a child was visible but still unseen.

For years, Filipinos believed school shootings happened somewhere else. That belief should have ended in Tacloban.

Ateneo de Zamboanga was the second warning. If there is a third, we cannot say we did not see it coming.

We can only admit that we saw the warnings—and looked away.