Who We Are

My Story

I established The Refugee Archive while conducting my doctoral research at Georgetown University, focusing on female-headed households (FHH) at the intersection of narrative, policy, and livelihood. During a summer in Amman, Jordan, while studying Arabic and teaching English, I spent time with Syrian refugees and listened closely to a group of women whose lives were described by others but not by themselves.

The gap was not a lack of reports. UN and government sources consistently show that female-headed households (FHH) face high levels of economic and physical vulnerability while living in displacement. What I saw on the ground was what those reports could not fully capture: single motherhood in displacement or conflict settings was often treated as a problem to manage rather than as a reality to understand. Those misunderstandings shaped how women were judged within their communities and camps, and whether they were fully included in everyday life, much less in programming, protection, and policy decisions.

There is still a lot we do not understand about single motherhood in displacement, especially in camp settings, conflict zones, and militia-controlled areas, where mothers are surviving while raising children without a husband or predominant male family member present. I'd argue that you cannot fully understand FHH mothers without learning about their "beginnings," backgrounds, beliefs, traits, and traditions, which shape present-day survival and reinforce their present circumstances.

When programs do not reflect that reality, risks grow inside the household. Children can be stigmatized for an absent father, and they can internalize the idea that their mother’s status makes them “less than” or even, as I have been told, unsafe. That social judgment affects how families navigate daily life, how children perceive themselves as reflections of the environments they witness, and the support they can realistically access.

To preserve women’s stories in full, on their own terms, and to treat those stories as knowledge that can shape better policy and practice, not just testimony, is what the world needs now. I hope to graduate with my doctorate in 2027, and I hope to serve as a platform for mothers' voices who live in displacement around the world and feel lost, unseen, or unheard.

My Story

I grew up in a place where tradition and culture are deeply rooted, shaped by Igorot ways of life that continue to be practiced and protected in many communities across the Philippines. Growing up in this environment taught me resilience and shaped my hope for a better world. While patriarchy was deeply observed, it felt normal, like the way things were supposed to be. I accepted it without resistance because I did not know there was something to resist.

That perception changed when I started going to school. I began to realize that just because a practice is traditional or has existed for a long time does not mean it should always be preserved. Change shapes a person’s choices. It influences how we think, how we decide, and how we position ourselves politically and socially. Education taught me that questioning is not disrespect. Sometimes, it is necessary.

I became part of our school’s publication as an editorial writer, and that experience sharpened my writing and communication skills. More importantly, it taught me the power of words. Words can be used to build or to destroy. They can reinforce injustice or challenge it. They can shift a perspective held for decades in a single moment of clarity. Writing became my voice. It became my way of calling out inequality and standing against it.

My interest in science and technology has always been there, and it never faded. I am currently taking a complex and demanding program, and that is exactly why I love it. Beyond academics, I became more aware of how digital platforms shape narratives and spread information at an incredible speed. I realized that technology could be more than innovation. It could be a tool for awareness. I was fortunate to work with a company that became my foundation in marketing, programming, and development. I was not handed these skills. I learned them because I chose to. I had the discipline and the will to grow.

Over time, I became part of The Refugee Archive as a member of the creative team. It was the perfect intersection of my advocacy and my passion. I usually limit how much I give, choosing carefully where to invest my energy, but this time was different. I was willing to use my skills, time, and resources to amplify voices that are too often ignored. To help stories travel farther than borders allow.

I may not share the same lived experiences as those whose stories we carry, but I believe deeply in the responsibility to the women raising children alone. To those who never asked to be visible, but deserve to be seen. I see you. And as long as I have a voice, I will use it not to speak over you, but to make sure the world listens.

My Story

I grew up in a matriarchal household, surrounded by strong, professional women whose leadership and resilience were simply a fact of life. Because of this, I didn’t initially realize how differently women were perceived and treated outside our home, until I encountered it myself. That awareness became the foundation of my advocacy for women’s rights and my commitment to challenging gender roles through storytelling and design.

My passion for journalism and creative expression began early, from my first show-and-tell at four years old to becoming a competitive writer throughout elementary and high school, eventually representing my schools at Schools’ Press Conferences. I later pursued Broadcast Communication at the Polytechnic University of the Philippines, where I combined writing with design, illustration, and music production.

In university, I became an advocate for SOGIE rights through student organizations and wrote “Bayad Po,” a song about defying gender roles that received multiple awards across universities. During the pandemic, I volunteered as a journalist and illustrator for student publications, documenting injustices faced by women and queer communities.

Since 2020, I have worked as a Digital & Content Designer and Manager across industries—from AI startups to real estate—and later as a design and content managing assistant to an executive at Jasper, a pioneer AI writing platform. There, I learned to build ethical, AI-supported systems that amplify, rather than replace, the work of journalists and designers. (Also, bring back em dashes!)

Today, this journey informs my work with The Refugee Archive. And I believe stories should be told with consent, care, and dignity; centering women, queer communities, and displaced voices while honoring their agency and lived experience.

My Story

Before titles or tools, I’ve always been drawn to how stories live in images, and how meaning can be carried through symbols, illustration, and intentional visual choices. Growing up in Nigeria, I loved creating art and sharing stories. Over time, I noticed that many stories, especially African and other marginalized ones, are often misunderstood, oversimplified, or told by people far removed from lived reality. That awareness still shapes how I approach my work today.

During my university years at the University of Benin, where I studied Foreign Languages, my interest in storytelling expanded through the study of language. I began to see language not only as communication, but as power, and storytelling as a way to express, preserve, and challenge meaning. While still a student, I joined CSI-COFSCI, an NGO focused on empowering young people through education, entrepreneurship, and social innovation. As Academic and Media Director, I organized more than 40 learning sessions and workshops on entrepreneurship, digital skills, media, and personal development, reaching over 400 students.

After graduation, I stepped into the role of International Media Director, coordinating communications across multiple African countries. I oversee campaigns that integrate creativity and social impact, supporting young people in building solutions in their communities and using language and storytelling to share their experiences. That transition marked a shift in my practice, from working mainly as a designer or illustrator to working as a visual storyteller, paying close attention to how stories are framed, preserved, and understood across cultures and audiences.

This approach has guided my work across digital art, graphic design, and narrative-driven projects. I’ve contributed to purpose-driven work at both small and large scales, locally and internationally, combining design, research, and communication to support storytelling that is grounded and respectful.

My work with The Refugee Archive brings these threads together. I help shape how refugee and displaced stories are visually presented and understood. I approach this work with care for context, agency, and accuracy, using design, visual narrative, and language to support stories with integrity. I believe storytelling isn’t only about visibility, but also responsibility: how stories are handled, preserved, and shared across cultures and audiences.

My Story

On a personal note, I was born in Washington, D.C., and have always embraced an international outlook, shaped by my parents’ journey from Paraguay to the United States and their lifelong commitment to development and education through international organizations and government service. This background has continually inspired my passion for cross-cultural engagement and professional excellence.

My Story

Coming soon.