There’s a reason this line refuses to die.
Not because it’s poetic. Not because it sounds nice.
But because at some point in life, it becomes true in your bones.
I once sat with a senior associate after work, coffee already cold. He had done everything “right.” Stayed late. Delivered results. Helped the team. Still, nothing moved. No promotion. No recognition. Just silence.
He sighed and said, “Sir, baka hanggang dito na lang.”
That sentence is dangerous. Not because it’s dramatic—but because it sounds reasonable when you’re tired.
What tiyaga really means
We misunderstand tiyaga when we think it means suffering quietly.
Real tiyaga is not about waiting. It’s about staying in the game long enough for the game to change.
In work, life, or business, winning rarely comes from one big moment. It comes from many ordinary days where you choose not to quit—even when quitting feels logical.
Kapag may tiyaga, may nilaga doesn’t promise speed. It promises outcome, if you don’t leave the table too early.
A Filipino entrepreneur who stayed in the game
Before Jollibee became a symbol, Tony Tan Caktiong was just running a small ice cream business. What’s often missed in that story is not the pivot—it’s the patience.
The first burgers weren’t perfect. The systems weren’t elegant. Competitors were stronger, more global, more confident. There were many points where stopping would have been practical.
But he kept playing.
He observed customers. Adjusted recipes. Fixed operations. Opened slowly. Failed quietly. Improved steadily.
That’s not hustle culture. That’s persistence with learning.
The science behind persistence (no jargon, promise)
Here’s what research quietly tells us.
First, progress compounds. Just like money earns interest, skills do too. Small improvements stack. Missed days don’t kill progress—but quitting does.
Second, the brain adapts to repetition. When you practice a skill or habit repeatedly, your brain literally builds faster pathways. Things that felt heavy become lighter. What was once effort becomes default. This is why consistency beats intensity.
Third, people who persist don’t feel more motivated. They feel more invested. The longer you stay in, the harder it is to walk away, because your identity starts to shift. You’re no longer “trying.” You’re becoming.
This is why stopping hurts more than continuing, once you’ve gone far enough.
What this looks like at work
In the workplace, tiyaga doesn’t mean doing the same thing forever.
It means you keep playing—but you play smarter.
You ask for feedback even when it stings. You adjust your approach instead of blaming the system. You keep raising your hand, even after being ignored.
I’ve seen professionals finally “win” in year five—not because they suddenly became brilliant, but because everyone else gave up by year three.
Wala na, laglag na—was said by others, not by them.
Winning means staying in the game
Here’s the part we need to say clearly.
We are not here just to participate. We are here to win.
And winning has one non-negotiable rule: the game is not over until you decide it is.
Careers don’t end because of failure. They end because someone stops playing. Businesses don’t collapse because of one bad year. They collapse when founders quit learning. Dreams don’t die from difficulty. They die from early exits.
Kapag may tiyaga, may nilaga—because the nilaga belongs to those who didn’t leave the kitchen.
The shift to carry with you
Here’s the shift worth keeping:
From “Is this still worth it?” to “How do I keep playing better?”
Today, ask yourself—honestly, over coffee or during your commute:
What game am I in right now? Have I truly lost—or am I just tired? What’s one small adjustment that lets me stay in the game one more week?
Do that. Then show up again tomorrow.
Because it’s not over until you win.
If you want Filipino values to show up as real behavior at work…
Let’s turn it into a culture shift experience.
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