The end of the quarter approached, and Jose Rizal High School buzzed with the usual pre-holiday rush. But inside the EIM workshop, there was something else stirring—something beyond the hum of motors or the ticking of circuit testers.
It began with a casual conversation over lunch.
Sir Emman sat with Mrs. De Jesus, reviewing student outputs.
"You've really awakened something in these students," she said, flipping through the Home Wiring Journals. "They're not just learning—they're leading."
"I just gave them the wire," Emman replied. "They chose what to connect."
Mrs. De Jesus sipped her coffee, then leaned forward. "There's a barangay near the foot of the mountain, Barangay San Roque. Still no proper power in their day care and chapel. I was thinking... what if we brought the class there? Let them wire something real. For someone who needs it."
Emman's eyes lit up. "Field application, real service, and community impact?"
He didn't even need a second to answer.
"I'm in. And I think my class will be too."
The Mission Briefing
That Monday, Sir Emman gathered his Grade 10 class in the workshop, their usual buzz replaced by curiosity.
"I want to give you all a chance," he began, "to do something that electricians rarely get to do as students—serve a whole community."
He opened a presentation on the screen.
Project: "Light for Learning, Power for Prayer"
Location: Barangay San Roque
Objective: Provide electrical installation for the day care center and the barangay chapel
Scope: Lighting, outlets, switches, a main breaker for each facility
The class leaned forward.
"You will design, install, and inspect. Every outlet you wire will power a child's first school memory. Every light you install will shine during a mother's prayer."
A hush fell over the room. They understood the weight.
"This is not a simulation," Emman continued. "This is the real world. Are you ready?"
Hands shot up. Cheers followed.
For the first time, they weren't just students.
They were electricians-in-service.
Planning and Preparation
Over the next week, the class was divided into two teams: Team Day Care and Team Chapel.
Team Day Care focused on child-safe outlet placement, basic lighting, and a ventilation fan.
Team Chapel worked on altar lighting, ceiling fans, and a microphone socket for services.
Jas volunteered to be project lead for the day care. "I want the children to feel safe," she said.
Arvin took charge of the chapel. "I want the prayers to be heard loud and clear."
Sir Emman brought in blueprint papers, safety manuals, and actual load computation forms.
They worked during breaks, after school, and even over the weekend. They reviewed NEC code rules, simulated loads, and created safety tags.
Leo designed the panel board label using his newly practiced hand lettering.
Carla, soft-spoken but focused, designed posters with child-friendly reminders: "Don't touch wires. Ask Nanay or Tatay!"
Every task had a face. A name. A reason.
Arrival at Barangay San Roque
When the class arrived early Saturday morning, they were met by the village captain, a woman in her sixties named Kapitana Mercy, who greeted them warmly.
"You students are heaven-sent," she said. "We've had light bulbs that don't light and sockets that spark. For years, we've been praying for someone to help."
The chapel was simple—wooden pews, an altar with a small cross, and open windows that welcomed the breeze but not enough light.
The day care was even more modest—three small chairs, one blackboard, and no functioning fan.
The students began unloading their tools.
Screwdrivers. Extension cords. Insulated gloves. Multimeters. Panels.
They wore their IDs and custom-printed "JRHS EIM TECHNICIANS" shirts like badges of honor.
Sir Emman stood back and smiled. This was the real classroom.
Challenges and Triumphs
The work began in full force.
Team Day Care drilled into concrete walls carefully, running wires through flexible conduits.
Carla mapped the safest route for the main supply so it would be out of children's reach. Jas supervised the connection of the lighting fixtures, triple-checking every nut.
At the chapel, Arvin's team faced a setback.
"Sir," he said, frowning, "the existing wooden beam won't support the fan. It's cracked."
Emman examined it. "Then it's time to adapt."
They opted to install a wall-mounted fan instead. Dino and Paulo recalculated the load, re-routed the wiring, and made the adjustments in real time.
What impressed Emman most wasn't just the skill—it was the communication. The professionalism.
"Ground confirmed."
"Test light pass."
"Breaker off before adjusting."
"Copy, standby."
They sounded like apprentices on a construction site.
But they were just 15-year-olds with purpose.
Unexpected Guest
Around mid-afternoon, as Team Chapel finished testing the final outlet, an elderly man entered the chapel quietly.
He watched the students at work, a rosary around his neck and hands trembling with age.
After some time, he approached Sir Emman.
"You're their teacher?"
"Yes po."
He nodded, eyes misting.
"I've lived here all my life. And for all those years, we prayed by candlelight. My wife—she passed before we ever had electric fans in this chapel. But today… today I will light a candle and see it reflected in the ceiling."
He placed a hand on Emman's shoulder.
"You teach more than wires. You teach light."
Switch On
By 4:30 PM, all installations were complete.
The students, sweaty and smudged with dust, gathered around the main switch box outside the day care.
Sir Emman addressed them.
"This is your work. Your effort. But remember what I always say—electricity isn't just power. It's responsibility."
He nodded toward Jas.
"Ready?"
She flipped the main breaker.
The lights flickered, then stabilized—soft white beams illuminating the tiny day care like morning sun.
Across the path, the chapel lights turned on. A faint breeze stirred as the fan spun to life.
Cheers erupted.
Even the barangay children clapped.
Kapitana Mercy wept.
The entire community stood in awe—not just of the light—but of the ones who brought it.
Reflection Circle
Before they left, Sir Emman gathered the students in a circle.
"Before we go," he said, "I want each of you to say one word that sums up today."
The responses came, steady and sincere:
"Gratitude."
"Growth."
"Purpose."
"Hope."
"Honor."
"Family."
"Light."
When it was Emman's turn, he paused, looking at each student.
His eyes settled on the glowing windows behind them.
"My word," he said, "is future."
Return to Jose Rizal High
Back at school the next Monday, Mrs. De Jesus called Emman to her office.
"I heard what happened in San Roque," she said. "I got photos. I got text messages. And I got an invitation."
She handed him an envelope.
It was a letter from Barangay San Roque.
"Thank you for not only giving us electricity—but for showing our children what learning with heart looks like."
"I think we've started something here," Emman said.
Mrs. De Jesus nodded. "Let's build it."
They began planning for a possible annual EIM outreach program, where each graduating batch would leave behind something more than just a diploma—they'd leave behind impact.
"Wiring a light is easy. Wiring it with meaning—that's what makes you different. That's what makes you dangerous in the dark world."
– Sir Emman, Outreach Debrief