Recently, I was watching a video posted on Facebook. It was a Bisaya song entitled “Usahay” and was performed by the Sessionistas.
I read one of the comments, by Ruben Ureta Salvador, which said: “Let us be reminded that the composer of the song is Colonel Gregorio Labja of Tagum City, Davao del Norte.”
The haunting Visayan ballad has long been a staple of Filipino music. Sung in gatherings, revived by celebrated artists, and embraced across generations, the song evokes longing, heartbreak, and the quiet ache of unfulfilled love.
Yet for decades, while the melody soared, its true composer remained grounded in obscurity. Only recently did the Philippines learn that the man behind this immortal piece was not a Cebuano musician, as widely believed, but a Davaoeño police officer named Gregorio Responso Labja.
For years, “Usahay” was thought to be a traditional Cebuano folk song. Its earliest commercial recording in 1962 credited the composition to a person from Tudela, Camotes Islands, with Suarez Publishing listed as the publisher.
The rendition performed by Leni Alano of the Bayanihan Dance Troupe solidified the perception that “Usahay” originated from Cebu. Subsequently, Susan Fuentes’ 1979 interpretation brought “Usahay” to national prominence, further reinforcing the incorrect origin attribution.
However, the authentic account traces back considerably earlier—to 1954 in Davao. Based on recollections from his family, Greg Labja composed “Usahay” during his tenure as a young band director at Harvardian Colleges.
The composition reportedly stemmed from a personal experience: a woman he pursued romantically but whose feelings were not reciprocated. An alternative account suggests he created the song for Noemi Ortega, an accomplished majorette from Davao Central Institute, who later became his spouse.
Whichever account is accepted, the genuine emotional depth of the composition demonstrates a young man’s openness, expressed through a musical arrangement that would subsequently achieve widespread national appeal.
Labja’s professional trajectory diverged significantly from that of a conventional songwriter. He pursued a career in law enforcement, ultimately attaining the rank of colonel and serving as Regional Director for Administration at Camp Catitipan.
Nevertheless, music remained his enduring personal interest. He assembled musical groups, composed additional pieces, and performed at community gatherings. During one such performance—at a birthday celebration in Tagum—”Usahay” was inadvertently captured on recording.
Someone also borrowed the musical score. Before Labja could comprehend the situation, the composition had been transferred to a recording studio.
Upon the radio broadcast of “Usahay,” Labja experienced profound shock. The song he had composed during intimate moments of youthful yearning was now reaching audiences across the country, attributed to another individual. Nevertheless, he decided against pursuing legal action.
As a law enforcement officer, he understood the challenges of confronting powerful figures and established music publishers. He persisted in his musical endeavors, creating compositions including “Darling,” “Gugma Ko,” the Davao del Norte March, and the Tagum Hymn.
He even obtained correspondence from then President Corazon Aquino in 1990 expressing gratitude for a composition he had dedicated to her. However, acknowledgment for “Usahay” eluded him.
Labja died in 1991 at age 59, never receiving public recognition as the creator of the song that had already achieved status as a cultural landmark. The incorrect attribution persisted for nearly twenty years.
“Usahay” continued to be performed by renowned artists including Pilita Corrales, Dulce, Vina Morales, Aegis, Gary Granada, and Noel Cabangon. It was also performed by government officials and included in motion pictures. The composition endured, yet its creator remained an unacknowledged figure in its legacy.
The pivotal moment occurred when Labja’s daughter, Jenny Labja, contacted Garry Granada, a trustee of the Filipino Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers (FILSCAP). She submitted the original manuscript of “Usahay,” accompanied by an alternate version of the composition. FILSCAP recommended that she lodge a formal complaint.
The case subsequently advanced to the Supreme Court, which determined in 2010 that Greg Labja was the legitimate original composer of “Usahay.” Suarez Publishing and Labja’s heirs subsequently reached an amicable settlement, guaranteeing that revenues from the song would be directed to the rightful family.
The decision transcended merely correcting a historical inaccuracy; it reinstated honor to an individual who had passively endured decades of incorrect attribution. It furthermore transformed cultural perspective: “Usahay,” previously assumed to be Cebuano, was formally acknowledged as a composition originating from Davao.
For Dabawenyos, this represented a source of pride. For the Labja family, it signified bittersweet vindication.
In 2009, preceding the Supreme Court ruling, the ensemble South Border received the Best Regional Recording award at the Awit Awards for their interpretation of ‘Usahay.’ They presented the honor to the Labja family—a meaningful acknowledgment of the reality that had remained concealed.
Greg Labja’s contributions may not have received widespread recognition during his era, yet his influence continues to resonate. “Usahay” transcends its original identity as a poignant expression of yearning; it now stands as a testament to the necessity of proper attribution, the value of celebrating the artists whose creations define our cultural landscape, and the imperative of preserving every creator’s voice against the inevitable erosion of historical memory.
