A picture of a drunken Jose Rizal with his peers stands as a historical relic that immortalizes the affinity of Filipinos for drinking or inuman sessions. More than a century after, little has changed with inumans: they remain gatherings where friends and family come together to indulge in laughter, stories, and camaraderie.
Filipinos have a wide lexicon for drinking sessions—inuman, chillnuman, walwalan, basagan—each evoking the same spirit of get-togethers where alcohol unites people. For Rodje Martinez (IV, BS-AEI), “[an inuman is] a place for you to vent out, rant, or tell stories about something that you think is funny, sad, or heartbreaking” to others. But with its cultural significance, what does an inuman look like today, and how has it endured through the years?
A social space for everybody
DLSU Sociology and Behavioral Sciences Professor Dr. Zaldy Collado tells us that inumans are more than a mere excuse to indulge in inebriation, and that their cultural value stems from the shared company rather than the liquor. “[‘Yung inuman] ay [composed of] two or more people. ‘Di ka pwedeng magsabi na [nasa] inuman [ka kung] mag-isa ka lang…nawawala dun ‘yung social aspect.” That is how Inumans always assume a sense of community..
(Inumans have two or more people. You cannot say you’re in an inuman if you’re alone…it removes the social aspect.)
Collado notes that the spaces where inumans are held have also evolved, even during the pandemic. He mentioned the emergence of online drinking sessions, or e–numans, where people would meet on Zoom to drink “together.” While this removed the close physicality of a typical inuman, it nevertheless preserved its essence of togetherness, especially amid distance and isolation.
Inumans do not always need to serve a purpose. They are often held to celebrate, destress from mundane responsibilities, or mend a broken heart. But the drinking culture outside Metro Manila tells us otherwise—Collado says that many provincial communities drink first thing in the morning, and that it “does not necessarily have to be justified.” Inumans in the provinces occur in the street, usually in front of one’s house, where the call to tagay (shot) invites friends and neighbors to drink. What makes this even more unique is the existence of what we call an ikot, where a single drinking glass is passed among everyone—symbolizing the bonds formed in and by this practice. Such practices show that while there is no singular drinking culture in the Philippines, it is a collective spirit that binds them together.
Drunk enough to be human
There’s just something about inumans that loosens the tongue and lets one’s truths spill out. For Gabriella*, it’s how alcohol serves as a shield and an alibi all at once. “Minsan ‘pag [nag-trauma dump] ako, I just blame it on the alcohol,” she admits. Words flow easily under dim lights, with a bottle on the table and friends within reach.
Jose* echoes this sentiment, reflecting on how men, often expected to stay composed and unshaken, have finally found a space where they can express themselves without apology. “Parang nagiging excuse siya,” he shares, “na pwede kang maging totoo.” Dr. Collado calls this the “permission slip” alcohol grants—inviting us to open up and show the softer parts of ourselves we often conceal.
(It sort of becomes an excuse to express your authenticity.)
At inumans held in the close quarters of condos, these confessions take shape most vividly. It is in this unassuming, yet tight-knit setting, that walls between people begin to fall, where they let the chinks in their armor be. It is not the liquor itself that makes the night memorable, but the trust woven into every story told and every silence held. Inumans, then, become less about drinking and more about allowing others to bear witness to our unguarded selves and how we carry a piece of their honesty long after the buzz fades.
Bottoms up, guards down
While people often drink to find comfort among their peers, the same vulnerability can easily be exploited, especially in unfamiliar spaces. This is most evident in bars and clubs, where a night of fun can be a shot away from a fistfight or another form of harassment. As Gabriella puts it, “napapalibutan ka ng mga taong hindi ka tiwatiwala o may masasamang intention.”
(You’re surrounded by people you can’t trust, or people with bad intentions.)
Our own culture is not blind to the dangers mentioned—perpetuating them even—especially across persistent gender inequalities. The popular OPM hip-hop track May Alak, May Balak captures this reality, revealing the inuman’s tendency to also be a venue for predatory behavior. Gabriella corroborates this with stories of women being drugged or roofied during parties. It is for this reason that drinking is met with hesitation for women, shaped both by their own internal reservations and others’ warnings.
Although chillnumans try to minimize such risks, drinking is still not guaranteed to be a safe activity. Because of this, Gabriella stresses the importance of surrounding oneself with the right people, while Jose underscores the shared responsibility of watching over one another, especially in what is supposed to be a communal gathering.
When the bottles empty out
After a night of drinking, all that remains are the bonds formed around the bottles—along with the inevitable morning hangover. Just as relationships thrive in the hustle and bustle of everyday life, they can also flourish in the quiet of one’s home. “It lets you see the most human aspects of your friends,” Jose shares.
While drinking preferences differ from one person to the other, for Rodje, what truly matters is the companionship. “‘Yung samahan ng friends is what makes an inuman session an inuman session in the first place,” he adds. No matter the venue, an inuman is special because of the people there—those who lay themselves bare, and those trusted enough to witness it.
(It’s the companionship of friends that makes an inuman session what it is in the first place.)
*Names with asterisks (*) are pseudonyms.
This article was published in The LaSallian‘s October 2025 issue. To read more, visit bit.ly/TLSOct2025.
