From slippers to RCrim: How Expedito Suliman rewrote his family's story

MANILA, Philippines – Before he became a Registered Criminologist (RCrim), Expedito Alabang Suliman was the boy who had only one school uniform, no school shoes, and a dream that poverty could never take away.

Expedito Suliman shares how poverty, sacrifice, and self-review led him to become a Registered Criminologist (RCrim).

In an exclusive interview with The Summit Express, Suliman looked back on the extraordinary journey that took him from extreme poverty to becoming the first member of his family to earn a professional title.

"When I was in elementary, I was just a simple student," Suliman recalled.

"I had only one school uniform. Wash it today, wear it tomorrow. No shoes. I always wore slippers. Rain or shine, it was always slippers," he said, recalling a childhood where even the simplest necessities were beyond his family's reach.

Every school day also meant walking nearly one and a half hours to school because transportation was a luxury his family could never afford.

Growing up as the fifth of six siblings in Libuton, Manukan, Zamboanga del Norte, Suliman watched poverty force all five of his brothers and sisters to stop studying before finishing elementary school, prompting him to promise himself, "If they couldn't finish, then I will."

His determination paid off when he became the first member of their family to finish elementary school, proudly whispering to his parents, "Ma, Pa... nakahuman ra gyud ko" (Ma, Pa... I finally made it through elementary school).

A childhood defined by sacrifice

The celebration was short-lived because his parents soon told him they could no longer afford to send him to high school, leaving him heartbroken as he returned to the family farm.

Alone in the field, Suliman broke down in tears and prayed, "Lord, if Grade 6 is my last, thank You. But if You have more for me, I'll wait," before returning home to tell his parents, "Ma, Pa, I will still study even if you have no money to support me. I will work hard. Don't worry, I can do it."

That same day, he made another promise to himself: "If there's no tuition, I'll find a way. If there's no uniform, I'll wear what I have. If there's no ride, I'll walk. Because quitting was not an option."

The next morning, Suliman gathered coconut shells from their farm, turned them into charcoal, and walked nearly one and a half hours carrying heavy sacks just to sell them so he could buy a notebook, a school bag, one school uniform, and a pair of shoes.

Looking back, he proudly said, "No one gave me money. I earned it. That was my first tuition—paid by sweat, not by pesos."

Junior high school became what he described as his "real battle" because he left home before sunrise for a nearly three-hour walk to school, carrying his only pair of shoes inside his bag and wearing slippers so they would not wear out quickly.

Whenever rain caught him on the road, Suliman refused to turn back because going home meant missing class, choosing instead to let his only school uniform dry on his body as he quietly reminded himself, "I chose to be wet, but present."

Working for a Dream

After junior high school, his parents again questioned whether they could afford to send him to senior high school, but Suliman insisted on studying in Dipolog City and promised to find a job to support himself.

A few days later, as he described it, "God opened a door," when he found part-time work in a catering service that paid ₱160 a day with free meals, allowing him to enroll at Dipolog City National High School under the HUMSS strand.

Balancing school and work demanded countless sacrifices, but they were rewarded on graduation day when his parents, unaware that he had earned academic honors, watched in disbelief as his name was called and his mother tearfully told him, "These are just tears of joy, anak, because we didn't expect you to become an honor student."

College became another test of endurance as Suliman balanced his criminology studies with part-time jobs, often going straight from school to work and studying late into the night despite exhaustion.

After graduation, while many classmates enrolled in review centers for the Criminologists Licensure Examination (CLE), Suliman searched for work instead, taking jobs at a grocery store and later a clothing store so he could save for his dream.

The battle that changed everything

Unable to afford a review center, Suliman prepared for the board examination entirely through self-review, admitting, "Because I didn't have enough money to pay for a review center, I did self-review."

He confessed that he did not know where to begin and often questioned himself, "If those in review centers are struggling to answer questions in the Board Exam, how much more me who's only doing self-review?"

Despite the doubts, Suliman reviewed every night after work because he believed the same determination that carried him through poverty would also carry him through the biggest examination of his life.

When the results were finally released, he was too afraid to keep checking the list and decided to wait until someone congratulated him if he had passed.

Moments later, a message appeared on his phone saying, "Congrats, you passed," prompting him to check the official results before bursting into tears and joyfully declaring, "Thank God, You heard my prayers. Yehey, I'm an RCRIM now!"

Today, the boy who once walked to school in slippers, sold charcoal to buy his school supplies, chose to be "wet but present," and prepared for the board examination through self-review proudly carries the title of Registered Criminologist, becoming the first in his family to earn a professional title and proving that the dream he refused to abandon ultimately rewrote his family's story.

— The Summit Express