Every house holds a philosophy, whether intentional or inherited. In the case of the 80-year-old ancestral home of Millie Kilayko in Bacolod City, that philosophy began with a layout that defied conventional design. Built without a formal architectural blueprint by a matriarch with no academic training, the house was designed around a singular, central living room, with bedrooms opening directly into the shared space.
For Kilayko growing up, the spatial arrangement meant that privacy was a luxury. To reach the kitchen, one had to step into the central hall—an awkward reality whenever visitors were seated in the living room. Yet, alongside the unconventional layout came an unbending household rule passed down by her mother: nothing in the house was to be artificial; everything had to be organic. Fresh flowers, harvested straight from the garden, were the only décor permitted. It was an aesthetic standard that doubled as a moral compass: you could not be artificial as a person.
For decades, that central room hosted a sweeping intersection of political and civic history. International diplomats, ambassadors, and a visiting Prince of Ghana sat in its chairs. Former President Cory Aquino visited and stayed in the Kilayko home on multiple occasions, establishing a quiet connection to the household that spanned decades.
| Inside HOPEtopia: Hand-painted forest murals, interactive reading circles, and step-by-step pathways transform former domestic quarters into spaces designed to engage young minds in ecological stewardship. |
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The new owner, upon recognizing the historical gravity of the structure, decided against demolition. Beyond preserving the house, she gave Kilayko free rein to repurpose her former home into a public community sanctuary. The physical transformation of the property into what is now known as Garden 54 required a precise reconfiguration of its rooms into functional, public-facing operations.
A concrete firewall was erected to separate Kilayko’s new private quarters from the original structure. The most dramatic transformation, however, occurred within the core living spaces, which were repurposed to house HOPEtopia—an interactive children’s museum and ecological learning sanctuary.
Inspiration for the museum struck when Kilayko encountered an illustrated children’s adaptation of Pope Francis’s encyclical on environmental stewardship and creation care, Laudato Si’ (Our Common Home). Rather than displaying the book behind glass, the team designed an interior that makes visitors feel as though they are stepping directly through its physical pages.
Visitors journey from vibrant, painted depictions of forests into a dark, somber hallway representing industrial pollution and environmental degradation. The room that once served as Cory Aquino’s bedroom became the “Ubuntu” room—named for the African philosophy of interconnectedness—where children write down their vows to care for the environment.
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| Storytellers and Community: Museum Director Chart Motus (left) guides visitors through interactive exhibits, alongside the Fernandez family with their friends and relatives (center), and Ms. Millie Kilayko (right) in HOPEtopia. |
For local families, the impact of the spatial transformation is felt the moment the lights turn on inside HOPEtopia. When Bacolod residents Gab and Rhea Fernandez visited with their three children, Gray, Gary, and Rui, the initial dark entryway gave way to a bright, room-wide “feast for the senses.” Guided by a Storyteller who engaged the kids in open dialogue rather than rigid lecturing, the experience culminated in the Ubuntu room, where their children wrote pledges to “Protect the animals” and “Not throw trash everywhere.”
The Fernandez family’s experience left an indelible mark not only on the children, but on their parents as well. “This was meaningful to me because as young as they are,” Rhea recalls, “they want to be part of the solution. They want to take part in making the world a better place.”
Millie Kilayko’s journey from growing up in an unconventional household to managing its public afterlife offers a clear lesson on legacy: preserving a family home is not merely preserving old wood, cement, and personal nostalgia—it’s sustaining the home’s essence and purpose.
| Past and Present Doorways: The original 1947 entry façade (left) alongside its modern restoration (right)—a physical indication in preserving a home’s essence while adapting its purpose for new generations. |





