Baybayin: The Script That Refuses to Be Forgotten
- Hilda Arenas

- Apr 13
- 6 min read

Before the Spanish arrived. Before colonisation rewrote our history. Before we were taught to write in any alphabet other than our own — there was Baybayin.
This issue, we are proud to feature two remarkable perspectives on this ancient yet enduring Filipino script. They come from two different voices, two different experiences, and two different parts of the world — and yet they arrive at the same powerful truth: Baybayin is not a relic. It is a living, breathing act of identity.
In our first feature, Ralph Chan — Country Editor of Austria and champion of Filipino cultural storytelling — brings us the deeply personal journey of Samuel Heinrich, a young Filipino-German navigating the complex terrain of mixed-race identity in Europe. Samuel's story of discovering Baybayin not in a classroom but in a search for belonging will resonate with every Filipino who has ever been told "you don't look Filipino" — and who has had to find their own way back to what that truly means.
In our second feature, Assistant Editor for the United Kingdom - Junart Kim S. Nieva takes us inside Anatomya ng Baybayin — a groundbreaking new book by designer and researcher John NL Leyson that challenges everything colonial-era scholarship told us about the script. Far from incomplete or primitive, Baybayin emerges here as a sophisticated visual system with its own internal logic, its own beauty, and its own long-overdue recognition.
“Together, these two articles remind us that Baybayin was never just a script. It was a statement. Reclaiming it today is an act of resistance, of pride, and of love — a love letter to a people who were never truly without a voice. It was simply silenced, slowly and quietly, over centuries of colonial displacement. And now, one titik at a time, it is being heard again."
Read on. And remember where we come from.
📍 AUSTRIA
by Samuel Heinrich

A common experience for many mixed-race people is the sense of not fully belonging to either side of their heritage. “You don’t look Filipino” is a remark I have heard repeatedly, and it often triggered small identity crises that left me feeling foreign in the country where I was born and raised. Simply reassuring myself that I am both Filipino and German, rather than half of each, was unfortunately not enough for me. I felt compelled to validate my identity by compensating for what others perceived as my lack of Filipino-ness. It was in this search for affirmation that I began to learn something considered inherently Filipino yet largely unfamiliar to many Filipinos themselves: the precolonial writing system called Baybayin. In studying what homeland Filipinos had long forgotten, I found a way to reclaim what colonization had taken from all of us.
I am far from alone in this pursuit. Scholars often attribute the weakening of Filipino cultural identity to colonial legacies, globalization, and the homogenizing effects of mass media. This dynamic tends to be even more pronounced among overseas Filipinos whose everyday lives offer only a limited connection with the Philippines itself, if any at all.
Baybayin’s quiet comeback
One notable response has been the renewed interest in Baybayin over recent decades by Filipinos all over the globe. Although it has not been formally integrated into the national curriculum, Baybayin has found semi-official recognition on Peso bills and passports, and appears in tattoos, cultural designs, and calligraphic presentations of poetic Filipino words. However, most Filipinos cannot actually read or write it; usage remains largely artistic rather than functional.
But here is the thing: Baybayin is so easy to learn that one good afternoon with a warm drink and paper should be enough to get the hang of it. In what follows, I offer a beginner-friendly overview of Baybayin for anyone who, like me, has searched for a more grounded way of relating to Filipino identity.
What Baybayin actually is
Derived from the Tagalog word baybay, meaning “to write/spell,” Baybayin was one of a handful of writing systems that were used in the Philippines before Spanish colonization. It is often erroneously called Alibata due to presumed Arabic origins, when it actually traces back to the Brahmic scripts of ancient India.
One practical reason why Baybayin is approachable is that it contains fewer “letters” - called titik (tee-teek), than the Latin alphabet. It is written left to right and is very phonetic, reflecting the oral nature of pre-colonial Filipino culture, where writing functioned more for personal communication than for extensive record-keeping.
Baybayin is an alphasyllabary or abugida, which means that each titik represents a full syllable (consonant + vowel), rather than a single sound. For example, the word tiwala (trust) requires only three characters: ti, wa, and la - ᜆᜒᜏᜎ.
Now think of each titik as having a built-in vowel that you gently nudge around. Each character naturally comes with the sound “a,” so ᜃ is read as ka. If you want to change that vowel, you simply add a small mark called a kudlit (kood-leet). Put the kudlit above the character, and ka turns into ki or ke: ᜃᜒ. Move the kudlit below and it becomes ko or ku: ᜃᜓ. To show only the consonant sound, writers use a kind of “vowel killer,” either a tiny cross (krus kudlit) under the character: ᜃ᜔; or a more readable, short curved line (pamudpod) to its lower right like ᜃ᜕. With just these few marks, you can already write words like ᜉᜐᜒᜎ᜕ᜌᜓ (pa-si-l-yo), the title of a Filipino song heard worldwide.
Spelling Spanish and English names
Writing exclusively Filipino words is relatively straightforward because Baybayin developed in relation to precolonial speech patterns. The challenge arises when rendering Spanish and English loanwords that entered the language over the past five centuries. In such cases, writers often combine titik to approximate new sounds. The everyday Filipino word siya (sha), meaning ‘she’ or ‘he,’ hints at how Filipino phonology can adapt to foreign sounds. For instance, Sharon becomes Si-ya-ro-n (ᜐᜒᜌᜍᜓᜈ᜕), where the “sh” sound is indicated by combining si + ya. Other borrowed sounds are reshaped too: “th” becomes “t”, “f” often turns into “p”, “v” becomes “b”, the “j” sound is rendered as “dy-”, and “tch” is expressed as “ts”. Familiarity with Filipino orthography is, therefore, an advantage when writing non-Filipino words or names.
Learning Baybayin did not fully resolve my identity crisis or make me appear “more Filipino,” but it offered a way of belonging that is not tied to how others read my face or name. It created a tangible link to a heritage that colonial history tried to erase, and for those of us far from the archipelago whose identities are often questioned, it becomes a quiet act of connection. More than preserving a precolonial script, Baybayin opens space for futures where Filipino identity is sustained through our own practices. By learning even a few titik, we join a lineage that stretches across centuries. One curve, one line, one afternoon at a time.
About the author
Samuel Heinrich (Instagram: @samuelheinrich) is a 22‑year‑old Filipino‑German currently studying Artificial Intelligence in Austria. Raised in the Philippines, he began exploring Baybayin shortly after moving to Europe, realizing that staying connected to his Filipino roots now requires intentional effort. Outside his studies, he enjoys documenting life through photography and videography.
📍 UNITED KINGDOM
by Junart Kim S. Nieva, Assistant Country Editor, London, UK

Baybayin, the precolonial Philippine writing system - has long fascinated scholars and cultural enthusiasts, studied primarily through historical records and linguistic analysis. Now, designer and researcher John NL Leyson offers a fresh perspective that shifts focus from phonetics to the visual structure of the script.
His recently published book, Anatomya ng Baybayin (Anatomy of Baybayin), presents a framework that treats Baybayin as a coherent visual system with its own internal logic. Leyson argues that many of the script’s underlying principles have remained overlooked, even though they are embedded within the very forms of the characters.
The book represents over five years of research and introduces what Leyson calls a “Form Logic” methodology. Rather than relying solely on linguistic comparison or colonial documentation, this approach systematically analyzes Baybayin glyphs through visual breakdown. It reveals recurring structural patterns that connect the characters and suggest a deliberate, sophisticated design tradition.
At the heart of the work is the Anatomya ng Baybayin Framework, which identifies five visual archetypes as the script’s foundational forms: Ulo ng Kalabaw (carabao’s head), Kagitingan (valor), Balay (house), Unawa (understanding), and Ilog (river). These archetypes serve as a structural core, linking every Baybayin character to a shared visual language shaped by perception, strength, shelter, and flow.
Leyson’s research challenges long-standing assumptions shaped by colonial-era scholarship, which often portrayed Baybayin as incomplete or underdeveloped. By highlighting its visual coherence, the book positions the script as both ancient and intellectually rigorous, rooted in indigenous knowledge systems.
Leyson’s work was made possible through the support of colleagues and friends, especially Mr. Ric Patriarca, founder of the London Filipino Centre (LFC) and a valued mentor. I was also fortunate to work alongside him through LFC, helping to share Philippine history and culture with overseas Filipinos and university societies across the UK. Those experiences not only deepened my appreciation of Baybayin but also allowed me to connect with communities eager to explore and celebrate their heritage.
More than a historical examination, Anatomya ng Baybayin invites readers to reconsider how Philippine scripts are studied and taught. It opens new pathways for scholars, designers, educators, and cultural workers to engage with Baybayin as a living visual tradition.



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