Many Cebuano children grew up hearing warnings from lolo and lola. Some came with a long explanation. Others needed only two words: “Ayaw ana!”
Never point at a tree at night. Never cut your nails after dark. Never return home from a cemetery without following certain rituals. These were the traditions many of us learned before we were old enough to understand why they mattered.
Known as tuo-tuo, these Cebuano superstitions were passed down through generations. Whether they were meant to ward off bad luck, avoid offending spirits, or keep children out of trouble, one thing was certain: lolo and lola expected us to listen.
The Superstitions We Were Told Not to Test
Never point at a tree.
In some Cebuano households, elders warn children against pointing at trees, especially after dark, because spirits are believed to dwell there. Some versions say the person must bite the finger used to point. For a child walking home after sunset, the warning alone was enough to keep those fingers to themselves.
Never play on a mound of earth.
Many Filipino families believe that anthills, termite mounds, and heaps of soil are homes of the nuno sa punso, small spirits who can make a person sick if disturbed. Some families extend the warning to piles of sand or gravel. For a child eyeing the perfect climbing spot, the warning ended the game before it began.
Always say “tabi-tabi po.”
When passing a tree or a mound, many Filipinos say “tabi-tabi po,” a polite way of asking the unseen residents to excuse the interruption. It works as an apology in advance, whether or not anyone is listening. Even people who do not believe in nuno tend to say it anyway, just in case.
Never cut your nails at night.
“Ngano man, la?” was often the question, but the answer was not always clear. Some families associate cutting nails after dark with misfortune. Even without knowing the reason, children learned to leave the nail clippers alone until morning.
Never sweep at night.
Sweeping after dark is said to sweep away luck or money. Elders who held this belief preferred that the broom stay in its corner until morning, even if the floor was a mess.
Never whistle at night.
Whistling after dark is believed to call spirits or, depending on who tells it, snakes. Neither was a welcome guest at night, so children learned to keep their tunes to themselves.
Never sleep with wet hair.
Going to bed with damp hair is often linked to getting sick, and in some versions to going blind. Many of us still hear the warning every time we skip the hair dryer.
Never go straight home from a cemetery or a wake.
Some Cebuano families practice paaso, passing through smoke after visiting a cemetery or attending a burial. The ritual is believed to prevent spirits from following visitors home. For families who observe it, going home after paying respects involves one more step before crossing the doorway. In other households, particularly Tagalog ones, the custom is called pagpag, where mourners stop somewhere on the way home so any spirits that tagged along lose their way.
Never assume a butterfly is only a butterfly.
In some local beliefs, a butterfly appearing near the home, particularly a dark one, is associated with the spirit of a deceased loved one. Moths get the same treatment: one fluttering inside the house, especially during a wake, is often taken as the departed paying a visit. An ordinary sight takes on a different meaning when elders have taught children to see signs of the unseen in everyday life.
Some “Traditions” Stay With Us
These beliefs differ across Cebuano families and communities. Some people continue to follow them, while others remember them as stories from childhood. Either way, the warnings often stick around long after the fear fades.
There is something familiar about hearing an elder insist on a rule without offering a reason. Years later, we might laugh about the things we once feared, yet still hesitate before doing them.
And when the nights grow darker and ghost stories return to the conversation, those old warnings have a way of resurfacing. Sometimes, the first thing we remember is not a horror story, but lola’s voice from across the room:
“Ayaw ana, dong!”
