It was Tuesday. The kind of Tuesday that felt too hot for learning.
The ceiling fans in Room EIM-10 spun lazily, doing little against the noon heat. The students looked like they were melting into their chairs. Even Emman had rolled up his sleeves, wiping his forehead every few minutes.
"Alright, let's keep it simple today," he said, walking to the whiteboard. "We'll be discussing Circuit Protection Devices—fuse, circuit breaker, and grounding. After that, hands-on wiring for a circuit breaker and a lighting system. Ready?"
Groans.
"Sir, ang init…"
"Sir, aircon naman o…"
Emman smirked. "You think linemen get aircon while climbing poles? This heat is training you for real life."
That got a few laughs—but they were cut short by a sudden, sharp click, followed by silence.
The fans stopped.
The lights blinked off.
The projector screen flickered and died.
Then—total blackout.
"Sir! Brownout?"
Emman turned to the window. Even the adjacent buildings were dark.
"No announcement," he muttered. Then, louder, "Everyone, stay seated."
He checked his phone. No power advisory. No message from admin. But his instincts told him it was more than just a glitch.
Seconds later, the school bell rang—not electronically, but the old manual bell someone had dusted off. That confirmed it: power outage.
Emman sighed, hands on hips.
This was a first for the class—an unplanned power cut right before a wiring lesson.
Jonel raised his hand. "Sir, so… wala nang activity?"
Emman looked at the dark workshop.
"No," he said after a pause. "There is still an activity. But it's not what you expected."
He motioned for them to follow. "Bring your kits. We're heading outside."
Under the Covered Court – Learning Without Power
By 1:00 PM, Emman had transformed one of the corners of the school's covered court into an impromptu "off-grid" learning zone. He grabbed a portable whiteboard, a few laminated charts, and a handful of circuit boards that didn't need power to demonstrate.
"Listen up," he called, as the students sat cross-legged on the cement floor. "Electricians don't stop just because power goes out. We run toward the problem."
He held up a fuse.
"This little piece of metal? It sacrifices itself to protect the rest of the system."
Then he held up a breaker.
"This one doesn't sacrifice—it resets. Built to handle faults and bounce back."
He let the silence sit for a moment.
"Some of you," he added, "are fuses. You burn out quickly when life gets hard. Others—you're breakers. You trip, yes, but you get up and keep working."
Something shifted in the group. A few sat up straighter.
"Today," he said, "we're learning how to wire a light manually, without electricity. We simulate it. You trace the current in your mind. You test each other."
He laid out wires, sockets, switches, and challenged them:
"Wire me a simple circuit that would work—if the power was on. Explain it clearly enough, someone else could wire it blind."
Students got to work. It wasn't just a test of wiring—it was a test of clarity, of teamwork, of patience.
By 2:30 PM, Reymar presented a panel to the class. He didn't just show the wiring—he explained it step by step, pointing with a piece of chalk on a wooden stick.
"This switch breaks the live wire, goes to the bulb, returns through the neutral. It's clean, sir. No loopbacks."
"Nice work," Emman said. "Anyone see a flaw?"
Carina raised her hand. "Sir, walang ground."
Reymar scratched his head. "Aba… nakalimutan ko nga."
Everyone laughed—constructively.
They were learning. Even without the lights.
Even without the power.
After Dismissal – A Quiet Conversation
The students left later than usual. Emman stayed behind, collecting tools under the fading sky. As he packed the circuit boards, he noticed someone still seated at the side of the court.
It was Carina.
She rarely stayed behind.
"Something wrong?" Emman asked.
Carina looked up. "Sir… ang galing lang po ng klase kanina. Kasi… kahit walang kuryente, natuto pa rin kami. Ngayon ko lang po na-feel na parang… may gamit talaga 'tong subject na 'to sa buhay."
Emman nodded slowly. "Electricity is invisible—but its presence changes everything. You don't need to see it to know it's there. Parang purpose."
Carina smiled. "Parang tayo rin po, sir?"
He looked at her, surprised by the insight.
"Yes," he said. "Exactly like us."