‘Geng Geng’, ‘Young Stunna’, and the right to belong in BGC
Marijo Farah A. Benitez Ipinost noong 2026-01-29 11:49:56
JANUARY 29, 2026 — Bonifacio Global City has always been marketed as the “sosyal” playground of Metro Manila — clean streets, curated shops, and a vibe that screams exclusivity. But lately, the buzz isn’t about the newest café or Instagrammable spot. It’s about the kids being turned away at the gates. The so-called “Geng Geng” and “Young Stunna” crowd — teenagers (most of them from lower-income families) in oversized streetwear, projecting swagger inspired by hip-hop culture — are being profiled, stopped, and sometimes escorted out. And the internet is on fire with debates.
Here’s the scene: viral clips show marshals approaching groups of minors, asking them to leave High Street. No crime caught on camera, no theft, no violence — just the look, the vibe, the association. Suddenly, fashion and attitude have become grounds for exclusion. Is this about safety, or is it about class?
Taguig Police Chief Jerson Castillo tried to calm the noise.
“Minsan nagkakaroon ng heated argument ang mga bata pero aanuhan agad ng mga marshals sa BGC at PNP,” he argued.
(Sometimes kids get into heated arguments but marshals and police immediately step in.)
He clarified that minors aren’t arrested for their clothes, only when they become disruptive. Still, the decision of who gets to stay rests with property management. And that’s where the controversy lies.
Let’s not pretend youth counterculture is new. The “jeproks” of the ’70s, punk rockers of the ’80s, even the “Beatniks” before them — all were branded as troublemakers. Every generation has its rebellion, its fashion, its swagger.
But here’s the difference: BGC isn’t just another public park. It’s private property. And private property comes with rules. The Fort Bonifacio Development Corporation can, legally speaking, decide who enters and who doesn’t. That’s the law. But legality doesn’t erase the sting of discrimination.
So, is BGC anti-poor?
That’s the question echoing online. Critics argue this is social profiling — judging kids by their baggy clothes, their slang, their vibe. Supporters counter that they’ve seen fights, theft, and chaos firsthand. Families in Serendra say they’ve witnessed groups shouting, running, even punching each other in public. For them, intervention isn’t elitism — it’s protection.
But let’s dig deeper, shall we? Why are these kids in BGC in the first place?
First of all, Metro Manila barely offers clean, safe, walkable spaces for young people, so hanging out in malls or districts like BGC becomes the default. And when you’re young, fashion is identity. Oversized shirts, layered hoodies, sneakers — it’s not just clothing, it’s belonging.
To dismiss that as “gangster” is to ignore the very human need to be seen, to be part of something. Have you forgotten how you felt when you were younger? Didn’t you also wear “outrageous” outfits frowned upon by the adults of our time?
Here’s the irony: BGC thrives on style. It’s a place where influencers pose for hours, where fashion statements are celebrated, where “extra” is the norm. Yet when the look comes from kids outside the curated mold, suddenly it’s a threat.
Why is a Pop Mart collectible or a Uniqlo fit acceptable, but a “Young Stunna” outfit suspect? Who gets to decide which aesthetics are welcome?
Of course, safety matters. No one wants rumbles in High Street. But, if truth be told, our fear often isn’t about actual incidents. It’s about perception. It’s about who looks like they belong and who doesn’t. And that’s where the discomfort lies. Because while we police teenagers in baggy clothes, we turn a blind eye to politicians in barongs who steal billions. Which group really threatens public order?
This debate cuts to the heart of our society: the tension between exclusivity and inclusivity, between private rights and public space, between fear and fairness. BGC may have the legal right to discriminate, but should it? Should fashion and youth culture be grounds for exclusion in a city that already offers so few spaces for the young and restless?
The “Geng Geng” kids aren’t going away. They’re the latest face of a cycle we’ve seen for decades — youth carving out identity, society pushing back, debates raging. Maybe the real question isn’t whether BGC has the right to discriminate. It’s whether we, as a society, are comfortable with the idea that belonging is reserved only for those who fit the mold.
How much of our fear is really about safety—and how much is just about keeping certain people out?
(Image: Young Stunna Outfits | TikTok)
