I AM THE ONLY ONE WITHOUT A CELL PHONE IN OUR TROOP

I’m Marko. In our troop of five, I’m the only one without a cellphone.

Every afternoon, after school, we go to Aling Tess’s store together to use wifi and play online games. They sit side by side, holding cellphones, bent over and focused on the match. The sound of their laughter, shouting “Hey heal me!”, “I’m dead!” and “Victory!” But me? I’m just next to them, looking, listening, trying to join in the laughter even though I don’t know what’s happening on the screen.

Once, they handed me the cellphone so that for a moment, I could play. But I didn’t know the buttons, I quickly lost. They laughed, but I felt that it wasn’t teasing, but a simple joke between friends. Even so, I was still heavy inside.

I went home with my head down. When I got home, I saw Mama washing clothes by hand. We don’t have a washing machine, we don’t have extra money for things. I understand why he can’t buy me a cellphone. I’ve even seen that Papa’s salary is only enough for rice, electricity, and food for my siblings.

But sometimes, I can’t help but feel jealous.
“Why do they have it, and I don’t have it?” I asked myself. As I lay on the mat, I could hear my teammates outside talking about winning the game. Me? Just quiet.

The next day, I didn’t join them right away. I just sat on the side of the court and watched the bag while they played basketball. Leo, one of our teammates, came over. He said.
“Hey, sorry, sometimes we can’t join you because you don’t have a phone. But you’re still solid with us. You’re the one who’s always here even when you’re not playing.”

I smiled, even though it still hurt a little. At that time, I thought, not everything can be measured on a cellphone. Yes, it’s hard, yes, it’s sad. But my presence as a friend is more important, not just my ability to compete in online games.

My birthday came. They invited me to play again. When I arrived, they handed me something, not brand new, but a secondhand cellphone that they all saved up.
“So you can keep up with us,” they said.

I couldn’t help but cry.

Not everything is measured in terms of possessions or material things. Sometimes, true wealth is friendship that knows how to empathize and give, even in simple ways. And I also learned that sometimes even if you don’t have a cellphone in your hand, if you have the trust and love of the people around you, that’s enough to make you feel that you’re not alone.

“Not All Victories Are on the Screen”

Since Leo gave me that secondhand cellphone, it felt like I was a kid who had just seen a movie for the first time. The next day, we all met at Aling Tess’s store.
“Marko, let’s set this up,” Neil said as he inserted the SIM card and downloaded the game. I couldn’t stand still — it was like I might wake up and realize it was all just a dream.

On my very first match, my heart was pounding.
“Bro, heal, heal!” shouted RJ.
“Press this — there!” Leo added, guiding my finger to the right button.
We lost the first round, but on the second, I managed to keep up. I wasn’t the MVP, but at least I wasn’t just the one carrying the bags, watching from the sidelines. We laughed loudly when all of us got wiped out at the same time.
“This is fun,” I said, “but I better head home early before Mom scolds me.”

When I got home, I saw Mom still hand-washing the laundry. I carefully placed the phone on the table.
“Ma, this was a gift from my friends. They all saved up for it.”
She stopped, looked at me with a half-smile, but I could see the worry in her eyes.
“Son, thank your friends. But remember, not everything you have should be used all the time. Don’t forget the more important things.”
I nodded. “Yes, Ma.”

My First Month With a Phone

At first, it was too easy to overdo it.
“Last game!” I’d say at 9 p.m. almost every night. That “last game” always turned into three, four, or even five more. The next morning, I was half-asleep in class. We had a math quiz, and I barely remembered the formulas. During recess, Ma’am Nadine came up to me.
“Marko, are you okay? You seem distracted these past few days.”
I lowered my head. “Sorry, Ma’am. I’ll do better.”

That night, Mom and I set rules.
“Only until 8 p.m. at the store, then home. Phone off by 10 p.m.,” she said.
“Okay,” I agreed.
It wasn’t easy, but I followed. And honestly, my head felt clearer. I realized sleeping early was better than losing at another “last game” I couldn’t even remember the next day.

Data Is Like Rice

One Saturday, I ran out of data.
“What now?” I muttered. I didn’t want to ask Mom — I knew money was tight. So I offered Aling Tess:
“Auntie, can I help at the store after school in exchange for some load? I can carry boxes, sweep, whatever you need.”
She looked at me and smiled. “Alright, Marko. But don’t let this affect your studies.”

So every afternoon, I swept around the store, organized the softdrinks, carried water gallons — then joined my friends to play. Each minute online felt more precious when you worked for it.

One Mistake, One Lesson

One afternoon, while we were playing, a younger kid passed by and peeked at my screen.
“Kuya, you’re really good,” he said.
“Want to try?” I offered, handing him the phone.

I turned away for just a second to grab a soda — when I looked back, the kid and my phone were gone.

It was like ice dropped into my stomach.
“LEO! My phone’s gone!”
We ran everywhere — into alleys, asking the fishball vendor. RJ came panting:
“At the court! A kid ran that way!”

We rushed over. Behind a post, we found the boy holding the phone, shaking, crying.
“Kuya, I’m sorry… it’s not mine. I just wanted to feel what it’s like to have a phone for once.”

We all looked at each other. I wasn’t angry — just confused. Then I remembered how I used to feel: watching from the side, laughing even if I didn’t understand what was happening on-screen. I stepped closer, slowly.
“What’s your name?”
“Jonas.”
“Jonas, this is mine, but I get it. Don’t run away. Let’s bring it back to Aling Tess, then we’ll talk.”

We all sat down.
“Don’t you have a phone for school?” Leo asked.
Jonas shook his head. “Sometimes I borrow from a neighbor, but I feel embarrassed.”

We were silent for a while. Neil finally spoke up:
“We can share. On days we’re not playing, he can use it for his modules.”

They all looked at me — it was my decision.
I took a deep breath. “Okay. On Sunday mornings and Wednesday afternoons, Jonas can use it for school. But someone has to watch over him. I’ll make the schedule.”
RJ grinned. “Good deal. We’ll pitch in for data sometimes.”

We pooled together twenty pesos each for Jonas’s online classes. Aling Tess smiled and handed us ice pops and three free fishballs. “Boys, that’s the real kind of game.”

Real Balance

Slowly, our afternoons changed. Yes, we still played, but some days we sat around the table reviewing lessons. Neil was good at Math, Leo at English. Me? I was best at explaining Filipino and Social Studies. Jonas would beam every time he finished a module.
“Kuya, I passed my quiz!” he’d shout, jumping.

One night, as I switched off my phone before 10 p.m., Mom peeked into my room.
“Son, thank you for helping Tess and for your studies. I also heard about Jonas.” She sat by my bed, brushing my hair.
“It’s not wrong to feel envious. We’re human. But what matters is what you do with it. You turned envy into a bridge, not a wall.”

I smiled. “Ma, you know, before I had a phone, I thought I was missing out on games. But now that I do, I realized — what matters more is being together. Not just in matches, but in having each other’s backs.”

The Barangay League

The barangay basketball league finally came.
“Let’s join!” RJ shouted.
And this time, not online — real basketball.

We practiced every afternoon. Jonas sat by the court, cheering, “Go Kuya Marko!” while Aling Tess sponsored the water. In our first game, we almost lost, but in the final minute, I stole the ball and passed it to Leo for the winning layup.

“VICTORY!” we all screamed. But this victory felt different — no lag, no loading. Just sweat, squeaky slippers on cement, and real laughter.

When I got home, Dad squeezed my shoulder. “Good job, son.” He rarely spoke, but I felt its weight. At the kitchen, Mom served bitter gourd stir-fry.
“My son won, but he lost to the ulam,” I joked. Everyone laughed.

A Gift to Myself

From the money I earned helping at the store and tutoring two neighborhood kids, I bought a small power bank — not for extra game time, but to make sure Jonas wouldn’t lose power during online classes. I wrote on it: “We Share.”

I handed it to him. “Don’t forget to return it, okay? We’ll follow the schedule.” Jonas nodded, smiling through tears.

An Ending That’s Still a Beginning

Now, every afternoon, you’ll still find us at Aling Tess’s store: some playing, some reviewing, some attending online classes. There’s still laughter, still “Heal me!” shouts, but also new ones: “Answer number 3!” and “Send me the module link!”

I’m Marko. I used to be the only one in the group without a phone. Now I have one — but what matters more are the hands that lifted me up when I had none.

And if one day I lose my data or my net lags again, it won’t matter. Because I’ve learned: not all victories are on the screen.

“Bro, picture time!” Leo said after our league game. We all squeezed together in front of the old store, with a “Loading Station” banner behind us. Click.

In that photo, you couldn’t tell my phone was secondhand. What you could see clearly was a complete group of friends — and me, finally whole