There’s a certain kind of air in BGC. Roasted coffee. Fabric softener. The sound of people speed-walking like they’re late to a life they can afford. It’s Manila’s closest thing to a “Western city” cosplay—clean sidewalks, curated parks, everything feeling just… a little too polished. For years, BGC has been the metro’s most believable urban fantasy.

But lately? The simulation has been glitching.

Because in the past few weeks, the conversation has shifted from “BGC is so nice to walk around” to something darker: Why are certain groups of teens being shooed away like they don’t belong?

When “Safety” Starts Sounding Like a Vibe Check

Online, people have been throwing around the term “genggengs”—a messy, loaded catch-all for groups of young guys in oversized jerseys, streetwear, and basketball-core fits.

Some netizens are cheering. Finally, they say. BGC is being protected. Others are asking: Protected from what exactly?

Because here’s where it gets complicated: Yes, reports of rowdy behavior, harassment, even gang-related tension should be taken seriously. No one wants real violence spilling into public spaces. But once the crackdown starts feeling less about behavior and more about aesthetics… That’s when “security” turns into a style audit.

The Real Question: Who Is Allowed to Walk Here?

BGC isn’t just a business district. Functionally, it’s Metro Manila’s closest thing to a “third space”—a place that isn’t home or school, where people can just exist. In a city where parks are rare, and sidewalks are basically obstacle courses, BGC’s openness feels like oxygen. So when kids from nearby communities—Pembo, Embo, the edges of Taguig—come to High Street, they’re not invading. They’re doing what young people do everywhere: Looking for somewhere to be.

But suddenly, being there comes with an unspoken question: Do you look like you belong in the brochure?

Classism in 4K

Let’s talk about the double standard.

If a group of “BGC girlies” blocks half the sidewalk filming a TikTok transition, it’s lifestyle content. If a group of boys in baggy streetwear stands around the same corner? Threat.

Same volume. Same space. Different aesthetics. And that’s the thing: disturbance isn’t always about disruption. Sometimes it’s about discomfort.

And discomfort, in Manila, is often code for classism.

Not Every Teen in a Jersey Equates To Gang War

To be fair: some youth groups have brought real chaos into the area. People deserve to feel safe. Violence isn’t a “culture moment.” Harassment isn’t teenage fun. But the internet has a habit of flattening nuance.

“Genggeng” becomes shorthand for criminal. Streetwear becomes suspicion.

Suddenly, the line between actual danger and plain-old profiling disappears and what you’re left with is a city that isn’t policing behavior— It’s policing vibes.

The Right to Exist Without a Receipt

BGC sells itself as a “global city.” But a real city isn’t global because it’s clean. It’s global because it holds contradictions. Different kinds of people sharing the same sidewalks without someone acting like a bouncer at the entrance of public life. If safety becomes an excuse to quietly remove the “wrong-looking” kids…Then BGC isn’t a city. It’s a mall with better landscaping. And maybe the real glitch isn’t the teenagers outside. Maybe the glitch is how badly we want a public space that only feels public for some.

Photos: PHCOMMUTEANDTRAVEL and JELALBS (Screengrabs from TikTok)