
Upgrade to High-Speed Internet for only ₱1499/month!
Enjoy up to 100 Mbps fiber broadband, perfect for browsing, streaming, and gaming.
Visit Suniway.ph to learn
In Ifugao culture, especially in Kiangan, kolot is a rite of passage reserved for boys, typically around the age of seven, marking the symbolic shift from childhood to boyhood
BAGUIO, Philippines – A young boy’s first haircut is more than just a trim in the highland town of Kiangan, Ifugao in the Cordillera, where the mountains hold stories and the wind carries old prayers. There, it’s a rite, a reckoning, and a reminder that he belongs to something much older than himself.
Noah Herbert Codamon Omengan, “Lanag” to the community, underwent his kolot, the ceremonial cutting of his hair, on May 24-25. At five years old, Noah had never known the feel of scissors on his head. But in Kiangan, that’s tradition.
In Ifugao culture, especially in Kiangan, kolot is a rite of passage reserved for boys, typically around the age of seven, marking the symbolic shift from childhood to boyhood. For Noah, it came a bit earlier. But it had been long anticipated.
His mother, Tracy Louise Codamon Omengan, is from Kiangan, where she was raised in the customs of her clan. His father, Wilson “Gaongen” Capuyan Omengan, hails from Sagada, where kolot is unfamiliar, and long hair on boys is rare. The result: Noah often stood out, especially in school.
“He had been self-conscious for a while,” Tracy said. “He was the only one with long hair among his cousins and classmates. So when we told him it was time, he was excited.”

The kolot took place in front of the Codamon ancestral home. It began on Saturday night with baki (sacred chants) led by three mumbakis (shamans): Lakay Dolpo, Lakay Ramon, and Lakay Ruben.
The chants, ancient and rhythmic, summoned the ancestors, asking them to guide and guard Noah through his life. As tradition demands, two native chickens were sacrificed. Their bile sacs, read like omens, offered favorable signs: long life, protection, and kindness ahead.
By 11 pm, a cow was butchered under a mumbaki’s direction. The following morning, pigs joined the ritual offerings, adding to the abundance and symbolism. Altogether, the family offered three pigs and one cow, a gesture of gratitude, reverence, and commitment to the sacred process.
As preparations wrapped up and families donned their native garb, the final phase of the ritual began. Just before noon on Sunday, Noah, standing beside his father and one of the mumbakis, drove a spear into a banana stalk. The act, symbolic of strength and courage, signaled readiness.

Then came the first cut. With a bolo, a traditional blade, Noah’s hair, untouched since birth, was severed to the sound of chants.
For his parents, it was a moment of quiet awe.
“It’s a release,” said Tracy. “You see your child and suddenly he looks older, not just because of the haircut, but because of what it means.”
For his aunt, Wanda Capuyan Omengan, the moment carried a kind of sacred reset. “Kolot is a rite, a release, a reset,” she said. “It’s the gentle severing of the past, the shedding of softness, the welcoming of strength.”
After the ritual, in a moment that can only be described as pure Ifugao boyhood, Noah grabbed a piece of meat and ran. His older brother Coda, who had his own kolot in 2018, snatched it, and their cousin Zach gave chase. In a final flourish of chaos and laughter, Zach caught up and pelted Coda with dried cow dung.
It was fitting because while kolot is sacred, it’s also full of life – joyful, messy, communal.

Noah, now officially a boy in the eyes of his elders, offered his own reflection: “I feel happy. I waited so long for this. Now I look like my Dad.”
In four or five years, another boy in the Codamon-Omengan clan will walk this same path. Nigel, Noah and Coda’s younger brother, will have his turn. Another chant will rise. Another blade will glint. Another boy will step into the circle.
With that, Lanag steps forward, hair shorter, spirit stronger, future brighter. Still a child, but no longer just a baby.
Boyhood has begun. – Rappler.com