February 2020 transitioned into March with a slow, haunting sense of inevitability. For most, the virus was still a distant echo on the news, a problem in other countries. But for Carmela, the weight of foreknowledge was pressing heavier with each passing day. She had lived through this chaos once, and now it was approaching again—just as she remembered.
In her dorm room at UP Los Baños, the walls seemed to close in tighter, the air heavier with unspoken tension. Carmela sat at her desk late into the night, reviewing charts and reports under the dim glow of her desk lamp. News from abroad showed the infection rate climbing. South Korea, Italy, Iran—then clusters in Metro Manila. She knew what would happen next. It was only a matter of time before classes would be suspended, mobility restricted, businesses shut down.
But while many were just beginning to grasp the severity, Carmela was already moving forward with calculated steps. Her past life knowledge wasn't simply a lifeline—it was a roadmap. And she had no intention of being caught unprepared.
She reviewed her investment portfolio again. Her long-term Philippine stock positions, originally begun in 2008, had matured well, some having more than doubled in value over the years. But she remembered how the PSEi had plummeted in March 2020, how the world's markets panicked in unison. She needed to act before that happened.
She carefully sold 30% of her local stock holdings, just before the first sharp dips, preserving her capital. Instead of holding cash alone, she diverted part of it into USD and transferred it to feeder funds with foreign exposure. Global equity funds, especially those tied to tech and healthcare, had shown strong recoveries post-crash in her previous life.
She was particularly interested in BPI's Global Equity Feeder Fund and BDO's Healthcare Feeder Fund. After attending a virtual consultation with her bank adviser, she rebalanced her allocations, making sure her money would grow despite the incoming volatility.
She also took time to update her emergency portfolio spreadsheet. Now it included a "Pandemic Timeline" tab, where she roughly mapped out significant events she remembered from her previous life:
* March 2020: ECQ in Luzon
* June 2020: Partial reopening
* August 2020: Second wave of lockdowns
* 2021: Vaccine rollout begins, slow recovery
* 2022-2023: Gradual market stabilization
Each date had action points next to them—budget shifts, stock buying windows, key reinvestment periods. She wasn't just planning to survive the pandemic—she was preparing to use it as a launching point.
Aside from finances, Carmela began considering what else could be done to ensure a stable and prosperous future. She had initially thought of pursuing writing full-time, but now, her sights were shifting. She loved storytelling, but writing alone wouldn't give her the income, security, and global leverage she needed.
IT. That was her new direction.
From 2018 to 2023, she recalled how tech boomed. Digital services exploded. Online platforms became necessities. Companies that could adapt to remote work and digitization thrived. She remembered names like Canva, PayMongo, GCash, even regional giants like Grab and Lazada surging forward. The need for coders, developers, data analysts, and UI/UX designers skyrocketed.
She could ride that wave.
The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. She was already familiar with online platforms, enjoyed logical problem-solving, and had taken interest in data during some of her general education subjects. She wasn't starting from zero either—she had already enrolled in online courses about Python, basic web development, and data literacy in late 2019, just for fun. Now, she would take it seriously.
She listed down steps:
1. Enroll in specialized online IT certifications alongside her degree.
2. Build a portfolio by volunteering for student org websites and freelance gigs.
3. Learn relevant tools: GitHub, VSCode, Tableau, basic SQL.
4. Follow tech communities on Reddit and LinkedIn to keep up with trends.
She also made a schedule for learning sprints, blending her coursework with self-directed study. Mornings were for school lectures. Afternoons for projects. Evenings for coding or writing. She carved out Sundays for reflection and mental rest.
Despite the rising tension in the outside world, Carmela found comfort in structure.
By the second week of March, rumors swirled around campus about suspended classes. True enough, on March 9, the University announced a temporary suspension. Carmela wasn't shocked. In fact, her bags were already packed.
She went home to the province just before the Enhanced Community Quarantine (ECQ) in Luzon was declared.
It was surreal being back.
The wide rice fields, the sound of cicadas, the scent of fresh earth—it was peaceful, almost detached from the chaos brewing in the cities. Her parents were grateful she came back early. Her siblings, older now, helped with the household chores, but Carmela found herself naturally falling into the role of planner and coordinator.
She created a small "family pandemic guide," organizing their groceries, medicine stock, emergency funds, and sanitation routines. Her father chuckled when he saw it.
"Para tayong may sariling DOH dito," he said with pride.
But she knew this wasn't just diligence. This was survival.
At night, when the house quieted and the only light came from her laptop, she worked. She signed up for a Coursera course on Google IT Support, started building a simple blog using HTML and CSS, and helped her younger cousin set up an online shop for local produce.
One day, as she was setting up a basic inventory tracker on Google Sheets, Raziel messaged her.
"Hey, how's life in the province? Still being a superhero?"
Carmela smiled. Their conversations had become more frequent.
"Just doing what I can. It's quiet here. Lots of time to think. You?"
"Also quiet. Been working on my digital illustration portfolio. Maybe this is the year we both launch into tech, huh?"
She hesitated for a moment before replying.
"Maybe it is. Or maybe it's the year we finally make something meaningful. Together."
There was a pause.
"I like the sound of that."
Something unspoken settled between them—an understanding. It wasn't just shared goals anymore. It was shared lives, shared futures.
By late March, the ECQ was in full effect. Everything shifted online. Carmela's professors struggled with the sudden change, but she helped where she could—assisting in Zoom setup, digitizing readings, offering tutorials to classmates with connectivity issues.
She also started building an online tech blog, aimed at beginners. Her first post: "5 Things I Wish I Knew Before Starting to Learn Tech."
It went semi-viral on local forums.
People started messaging her for tips, and she saw an opportunity. She offered one-on-one tutorials, starting with basic digital literacy for seniors and students. It wasn't just fulfilling. It paid.
By April, she was earning a modest but steady income from online teaching, freelancing, and managing her investments. Her blog grew, and with it, her presence in the tech learning community.
Her writing remained, but now it was more than a hobby—it was a tool. A bridge. A platform.
And Raziel? He remained her quiet anchor. Always asking about her day, sharing his own drawings, encouraging her every step.
One night, after a long call filled with laughter and shared dreams, Carmela leaned back on her pillow and whispered to herself, "This time, I'm building something real."
This time, she wouldn't let opportunity pass her by.
This time, she would thrive.