Kampanaryo: Ang Hilum nga Tingog

At the heart of Hilongos stands a structure not easily missed—the kampanaryo, rising quietly beside the parish church, weathered by time but unshaken in presence.

Built during the Spanish era, the kampanaryo was more than a tower. It was part of the old kota, a fortified structure meant to protect the people of Hilongos from the rampaging moro raiders and sea pirates that once threatened the coasts of Leyte. When danger loomed, families gathered within the stone walls, finding shelter in faith and in one another.

That part of its story is well-known—its strength, its structure, its purpose in defense.

But what is less often remembered is the kampanaryo's voice—the bell that tolls across town, echoing over rooftops, fields, and barangay roads.

Ang Tingog sa Kampanaryo

Long before digital clocks and text alerts, it was the kampanaryo that kept time for Hilongos.

At 6:00 a.m., it woke the town gently. At12:00 noon, it reminded workers and students to pause.At 6:00 p.m., its tone rang out like a call from home: uli na, ampo na. At 8:00 p.m., the bell rang for the souls of the departed—a soft toll of remembrance that generations learned to recognize in silence.

And when someone died in the community, the bell did not ring like it always did. Its sound changed—slowed, wooden-clapped, deliberate, mournful. No need for social media announcements. The whole town simply knew: naay namatay. The bell told them. And people muttered their hushed curiosities and said their silent prayer.

During Mass, the Bell Still Leads

The bell doesn't just mark time. It still holds its place in the liturgy. Every Mass begins with its clear, steady call. And during the Consecration, as the priest raises the Host, it tolls again—not just for tradition’s sake, but to anchor hearts and heads back to prayer, even for those just passing by outside.

In many ways, the kampanaryo is the church’s voice when the church is quiet and devout.

The Old Stone Still Stands

Sometime in the 2000s, the National Historical Commission recognized the Hilongos kampanaryo as one of the remaining Spanish-era forts in the Philippines. The kota may not be fully intact, but the bell tower remains central to the fort’s historic footprint—both visually and spiritually.

It reminds us that history is not behind us. It is beside us—sounding softly at six in the evening, tolling faithfully at funerals, ringing at weddings, calling us to gather once again.

Paghandum ug Pagpasalamat

Growing up, we didn’t always notice the bell. It was just there—part of the background, like the waves or the wind. But as we age, we realize its quiet faithfulness. Unlike loud voices or digital noise, it never asked to be noticed. It simply showed up, every day, to remind us of time, of prayer, of endings and beginnings.

It is one of Hilongos’ most enduring presences—not because it shouts, but because it continues to speak, even now.

Have you ever paused at the sound of the bell?

Have you ever looked up at the kampanaryo and wondered how many have heard it before you?

Perhaps now, we listen not just with our ears, but with memory.