When I was 10 years old, a German missionary nun began teaching me piano once a week.
At 16, I stopped my lessons.
I never imagined that more than 70 years later, those simple piano lessons would become part of a musical tribute that would touch Filipinos around the world.
Life has a beautiful way of connecting dots that we never knew belonged together.
Looking back now, I realize I wasn’t simply writing a song for Alex Eala. I was drawing from an entire lifetime.
As a teenager, I was offered a scholarship to pursue a Bachelor of Music. It was an exciting opportunity, but I chose a different path. Instead, I pursued mathematics, never imagining that this decision would eventually lead me into a long and fulfilling career in information technology.
At the time, it felt as though I had walked away from music.
Looking back now, I realize music never walked away from me.
It quietly followed me through every stage of my life.
I became an accompanist for company glee clubs and formal choral groups. After immigrating to Canada, I bought a piano — not because I intended to perform professionally, but because I simply couldn’t imagine a home without music. That piano became the center of countless rehearsals, choir practices, solo performances and joyful gatherings with family and friends.
One of the great privileges of my musical journey was singing with a professional choral group that performed regularly at Toronto’s Roy Thomson Hall under the baton of the late Maestro Erich Kunzel. Those experiences deepened my appreciation for the power of music to move hearts, build community and tell stories without saying a word.
Music was never my profession.
It was always my companion.
Professionally, I spent decades in information technology, managing people, solving problems and learning to adapt as technology continually evolved. Looking back, I now realize those years taught me far more than technical skills. They taught me how to organize ideas, embrace innovation and keep learning throughout life.
Without realizing it, I was preparing for a creative future that didn’t even exist yet.
Then came the COVID-19 pandemic.
Like so many others, I found myself searching for ways to remain connected. I began exploring the MIDI capabilities of my Yamaha Disklavier, creating lyric videos and producing sing-along songs that I shared on YouTube. What began as a simple hobby slowly grew into a library of more than 500 videos.
I had no idea that those years were quietly teaching me visual storytelling.
Outside of my professional career and music, I have always believed that our talents should serve others. Whether through church ministry as a pianist, charitable fundraising, community service or, more recently, civic advocacy, I have always found joy in encouraging people and bringing them together.
Looking back, I realize that encouragement has been the common thread running through my life.
Perhaps that explains why Alex Eala’s journey resonated so deeply with me.
Like millions of Filipinos around the world, I watched with pride as a young Filipina stood confidently on one of the biggest stages in world tennis. At a time when many Filipinos were longing for reasons to feel hopeful, Alex reminded us what discipline, humility, perseverance and quiet confidence could achieve.
I didn’t want to write just another congratulatory song.
I wanted to write a letter.
Not only from myself, but hopefully from millions of Filipinos who wished they could tell her:
“Thank you.”
“We’re proud of you.”
“Play free.”
That simple phrase eventually became the title: “Laro Lang, Alex.”
Watch/listen to Mila’s composition, “Laro Lang, Alex,” on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YEgGPT0Mzt0
Many people have asked me about my songwriting process.
The truth is that it was much more like directing a short film than simply writing a song.
Everything began with a single question:
What do I want people to feel?
Only after answering that question did I begin writing.
Working with ChatGPT as a creative collaborator, I explored ideas, refined lyrics line by line, discussed emotional pacing and searched patiently for words that felt authentic. Sometimes I asked AI to generate the same section 10 different ways before one version finally touched my heart.
Then came the music.
Then the storyboards.
Then every image, every facial expression, every camera angle, every line of typography.
The finished video lasts only a few minutes.
The journey to create it lasted many days.
People often ask whether artificial intelligence wrote my song.
My answer always makes them smile.
AI did not write my song.
AI became another instrument — like a piano.
An instrument still needs someone to decide what story is worth telling.
For me, AI did not replace creativity.
It expanded it.
It allowed someone without a professional recording studio or film crew to bring together music, lyrics, imagery and emotion in ways that would have been impossible only a few years ago.
I have never met Alex personally.
I have never watched her compete in person.
Yet, like countless Filipinos around the world, I feel connected to what she represents.
She reminds us that excellence and humility can exist together.
That dreams still matter.
That a young Filipina can inspire an entire nation.
Ironically, while the song was written to encourage Alex before her matches, I discovered that she had encouraged me as well.
At an age when many people believe life is slowing down, I found myself learning artificial intelligence, digital illustration, music production and cinematic storytelling.
Alex inspired millions of young people to dream bigger.
She also inspired one 80-year-old to begin dreaming again.
If there is one lesson my journey has taught me, it is this:
Life is wonderfully connected.
The piano lessons from childhood.
The mathematics degree.
The career in information technology.
The years accompanying choirs.
The fundraising.
The volunteer work.
The advocacy.
The family responsibilities.
Even the long hours spent learning unfamiliar technology.
None of it was wasted.
Each chapter quietly prepared me for the next.
When “Laro Lang, Alex” unexpectedly touched people around the world, many saw only the finished song.
I see something different.
I see a lifetime of experiences finally finding harmony.
If my story encourages one young person to pursue a dream, one Filipino abroad to remain proud of our heritage, or one older adult to believe it is never too late to begin something new, then this unexpected journey has already become one of the greatest blessings of my life.
Sometimes we think we are writing a song.
Only later do we realize that life has been composing one for us all along.
Editor’s note: Tofanews.com invited Mila Magno to discuss her song “Laro Lang, Alex,” a musical tribute to Filipina tennis champion Alex Eala. Instead of a traditional interview, she submitted this personal essay, which we are publishing in full, lightly edited for clarity and style.
