An Open Letter to Sen. JV Ejercito
The “Emman Atienza Bill” promises strict penalties against cyberbullying. Yet beyond legislation, what young Filipinos urgently need are accessible mental health services and real, on-ground support.

Published on Nov 5, 2025
Dear Senator Ejercito,
I saw the news and applaud the intention. I have to say, it's been extremely difficult to hold unwavering faith in our justice system lately, but seeking to curb cyberbullying and hopefully preventing more young lives from being cut short is a gesture worth recognizing, at the very least.
You served as the principal author of the Universal Health Care Law in the Senate, a measure that aimed to strengthen the country’s commitment to accessible healthcare. So when you filed the Anti-Online Hate and Harassment Bill, now widely referred to as the Emman Atienza Bill, I'd like to assume it stems from the same place of empathy and the genuine desire to honor a young life lost too soon—a life that should have been lived fully in a safer world, both online and off.
But as noble as your intentions might be, sir, the Philippines already has laws in place. With all due respect, what we do lack is proper reinforcement.
Do We Really Need More of the Same Laws?
If there’s anything this moment should compel us to do, it is to look closely at the systems that have already failed us—the ones that leave parents, teachers, and peers navigating crises alone while institutions promising accountability remain painfully out of reach.
If legislation alone could protect the vulnerable, the Philippines would already be a global model for online safety.
We already have the Cybercrime Prevention Act of 2012, penalizing cyberlibel, identity attacks, unauthorized data access, and online abuse, often used in cases of cyber harassment, defamatory attacks, and doxing. We have the Anti-Bullying Act of 2013, explicitly defining and penalizing cyberbullying in schools, which could be strengthened to offer expanded protection beyond students, particularly in workplaces and in cases of public harassment. We have the Safe Spaces Act, designed to cover gender-based online harassment, misogyny, threats, and abuse across workplaces, public spaces, and digital platforms; the Anti-Photo and Video Voyeurism Act, which criminalizes non-consensual sharing of intimate content; and the Mental Health Act, which recognizes mental health as a human right and mandates institutional support.
On paper, we are well-armed. Yet in practice, victims still fall through the cracks. Law enforcement is understaffed and undertrained for digital trauma cases. Schools continue to operate without licensed counselors. Families in crisis are left searching for mental health care that is either scarce, unaffordable, or inaccessible.
Truth is, most victims don’t even know where to seek help beyond a hotline.
Senator, I commend the intention behind the Emman Atienza Bill. Truly. But perhaps the greatest tribute we can offer Emman and every young person fighting silent battles is not another statute that echoes existing ones, but a country where support arrives before the tragedy occurs.

What We Actually Need
If we are sincere about safeguarding young Filipinos, then we must invest in the frontline.
That means government-funded, accessible mental health centers across regions, crisis-response units that are well-equipped to handle digital-trauma cases, and real training for law enforcement on cyberharassment and psychological distress. We need more mental health professionals and trained guidance counselors in every public school, as well as collaboration across platforms, LGUs, and communities to proactively protect the vulnerable and offer rapid, coordinated intervention.
To put things into perspective, according to the Philippine Psychiatric Association’s most recent public data from 2024, the country had about 651 psychiatrists, 516 psychiatric nurses, and 133 psychologists nationwide. That equates to roughly three mental health professionals for every 100,000 Filipinos. Studies cited by the World Health Organization echo this, noting that the Philippines has “very few mental-health professionals” relative to its population of more than 100 million. These already limited human resources are also concentrated in Metro Manila, which means that rural and regional access remains inequitable.
The “Emman Atienza Bill” seeks stricter penalties for cyberbullying and mandates faster takedowns of harmful content. But while accountability is important, care is urgent. What we need alongside laws that punish perpetrators are fully functioning systems and infrastructure that proactively support victims and protect them before harm even comes their way.
Empathy in government can be truly powerful, and it's measured not only by the bills filed but by the budgets properly allocated, the personnel professionally trained, the clinics built, and the lives kept intact. Genuine support requires tangible investments that go beyond press statements. Real protection must be funded, staffed, and made accessible to those who need it most.
If I may, Senator, what would be truly transformative is to live in a country where every young Filipino would know exactly where to go when the world turns dark and would find real help waiting.
This piece reflects the author’s views on mental health policy and online safety. It advocates for systemic support, mental health access, and stronger implementation of existing laws. All cited data is based on publicly available reports and government sources.

Marj is the Editor-in-Chief of Preview. A former economics major, she dove headfirst into fashion publishing and hasn’t looked back since.