Sara Duterte and the women in her history

On February 18, 2026, Vice President Sara Z. Duterte formally declared her intention to run for president in 2028. Her announcement immediately drew intense analysis and speculation across traditional and social media.

She first became Davao City’s vice mayor in 2007 with 88.9% of the vote. She drew nationwide attention in 2011 after punching Sheriff Abe Andres over the demolition of houses on a contested property in Barangay Soliman, Davao City. Her electoral base steadily expanded during her three terms as mayor, and in 2022 she won the vice presidency with 32,208,417 votes --the highest ever received by a vice-presidential candidate. The record for highest percentage, however, remains with fellow Bisaya Sergio Osmeña, who garnered 90.24% in his race.

Among the country’s three female vice presidents --Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, Leni Robredo, and Sara Duterte-- Duterte has been the most controversial while in office. Criticisms against her have led to impeachment efforts and investigations tied to allegations involving confidential funds and political threats amid her public rift with President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. Whatever one’s political stance, she stands in a lineage of women who raised families amid difficult circumstances.

Sara’s ancestor Dionisia Francisca Duterte, born in Parian, Cebu, bore a son, Isabelo, with Maximo del Rosario Veloso, a married member of a prominent Cebu family. Raising a child out of wedlock couldn’t have been easy, yet Isabelo later became a wealthy landowner and revolutionary figure in Cebu, participating in the seizure of Spanish administrative buildings and the transition government after 1898.

Sara’s paternal grandmother, Soledad Gonzales Roa Duterte, also demonstrated formidable resolve. After her husband’s death, she led the family in Davao City. In the final years of the Marcos dictatorship, she was among the early critics of the regime and supported Cory Aquino. Urged to run for mayor, she declined and instead endorsed her son, beginning Rodrigo Duterte’s political ascent.

Strength was likewise evident in Sara’s mother, Elizabeth Zimmerman. During Rodrigo Duterte’s 2016 presidential campaign, Zimmerman was diagnosed with stage 3 cancer. In April 2016, reports noted that she temporarily paused her radiation treatments to lead the “Byaheng DU30” caravan. She brought her medicines with her and acknowledged her doctor’s concerns, yet chose to devote time to the campaign. Despite the annulment, the family projected unity. Zimmerman explained that she wished to help because Duterte remained “part of my family” and “the father of my children.”

Less known is Cristeta Baldazo, mother of Sara’s maternal grandfather, Godofredo Baldazo Zimmerman. Cristeta bore a son in 1916 with George John Zimmerman, a teacher from Illinois assigned to Hilongos as a supervising teacher, likely among the later batches of American public school teachers sent to establish the Philippine educational system. Godofredo was baptized as the natural son of Cristeta, although his birth record with the municipal civil registry listed Zimmerman as his father. When World War I broke out and the U.S. entered the conflict in 1917, Zimmerman returned to America. He never came back.

Left to raise her child alone in a rural economy dependent on abaca, copra, fishing, and subsistence farming, Cristeta likely relied on agricultural labor, market vending, or domestic work to survive. Her story echoes a broader social reality. In 2023 alone, 842,728 babies --58.2% of registered live births--were born to unmarried parents in the Philippines. While not all grew up without paternal support, mothers often bore the greater burden.

Cristeta didn’t live to see her great-granddaughter become vice president. Yet the fortitude she embodied passed to her son, then to Elizabeth Zimmerman, and ultimately to Sara Zimmerman Duterte. More than a century after an American teacher left his only son in the Philippines, the daughter of the daughter of that son now faces challenges unprecedented for a vice president. In this month honoring women, it’s worth remembering that public resilience is often rooted in generations of private endurance.