There is an old wisdom that says: "Once the rain is over, an umbrella becomes a burden." For decades, the Bangsamoro struggle was the umbrella that shielded our people from the torrential rains of oppression, displacement, and injustice. It was carried on the weary shoulders of Mujahideen who asked for nothing but dignity. 

But today, as we navigate the complex "calm" of a political transition, some within our ranks and many from the outside have begun to view the core principles of that struggle as a burden—an inconvenient weight to be discarded in favor of political survival and accommodation.

The current landscape of the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (BARMM) is increasingly clouded by maneuvers that look less like revolutionary progress and more like traditional political theater. The recent excision of Sulu from the Bangsamoro homeland is not merely a legal or geographical adjustment; it is a deep wound to the integrity of our ancestral domain. It serves as a stark reminder of how high-level political manipulations can slice through the heart of a unified struggle.

Inside the halls of the Bangsamoro Transition Authority (BTA), the air has shifted. Where there once was the singular scent of revolutionary fervor, there is now the heavy aroma of political accommodation. We see key MILF figures—the very pillars who held the umbrella during the heaviest downpours—being sidelined. In their place, we see the rise of traditional politicians and opportunists who did not plant the seeds of this peace but are now the first to harvest its fruits.

The postponement of the first BARMM Parliamentary Elections and the failure to pass a timely redistricting law are not just administrative delays; they are threats to the very democratic governance we fought to establish. Every day the transition is prolonged without a clear, principled mandate from the people is a day that benefits those who thrive in chaos. These delays risk turning the BTA from a transitionary bridge into a permanent fortress for those who prioritize power over principle.

We must ask: Has the struggle become a mere stepping stone for personal ambition? When members of the Parliament prioritize "political play" over the self-determination of the masses, they are treating the blood of our martyrs as currency for their seats. They have forgotten that the "umbrella" of the MILF was never meant to protect the interests of the few, but to shield the rights of the many.

Yet, those who believe the Bangsamoro struggle is dying under the weight of these betrayals are mistaken. The soul of our struggle does not reside in the technicalities of a redistricting law. It resides in the unwavering heart of the Bangsamoro people who still yearn for genuine justice, land rights, and the right to govern themselves according to their identity.

The "rain" of injustice has not fully ceased; it has merely changed form. The maneuvers of opportunists may be the new storm, but the soul of our struggle remains our true shelter. We must shed the burden of political greed and return to the clarity of our cause. The struggle for dignity and self-determination is alive—and it will outlast the maneuvers of any politician.

Write to Taher Guiambangan Solaiman