In a world where dreams are often postponed for practicality, Prinsesani—a singer-songwriter from the paradise island of Puerto Princesa—chose to pause, not give up.
She calls herself an “island girl from the last frontier,” but don’t mistake her gentle tone for softness. Prinsesani is the kind of artist who wears multiple crowns: singer, poet, director, writer, dreamer. Every title is stitched with grit.
“I’m Sanilyn Gianan, aka Prinsesani,” she opens, almost shyly. “Singer-songwriter, poet, writer, director, producer, dreamer, visionary… and everything in between.” She smiled like someone who has been through all the edges of her identity and come out the other side singing.
Dancing Before She Could Sing
Before she ever held a microphone, Prinsesani danced. At age 3, her tiny feet moved to rhythms not everyone her age would recognize. By 5, she was humming old Broadway songs, mistakenly thinking they were for kids. It wasn’t the lyrics that captivated her—it was the drama, the emotion, the bigness of it all.
At 7, she sang at school. By 9, she was hosting a local TV show. At 10, while washing dishes, she wrote her first song, Kaibigan, Magtiwala Ka—a tribute to her elementary barkada. She didn’t even know how to play an instrument yet. That came at 12, when she taught herself guitar just so she could accompany her words.
And by 15? She was competing at a national songwriting competition in Baguio.
Most people are still trying to figure out who they are at that age. Prinsesani already knew what she wanted—and more importantly, what she had to say.
Pausing the Dream for a Bigger One
Life, though, has a funny way of throwing side quests.
“I had to halt everything when I transferred to Manila for law school,” she explains. “I did little gigs sa Conspi with RJ Jimenez… pero bawal eh. Kailangan magtapos.” Her music took a backseat as she poured herself into becoming a Juris Doctor. It wasn’t giving up—it was a strategy.
“Pero music talaga ang driving force ko to finish law school,” she admits.
When she finally passed and landed a full-time job, it became the launchpad for her comeback. She had something most indie artists didn’t: a way to fund her own music.
Coming Home to Herself
Her return wasn’t quiet.
In 2019, she was discovered by veteran artist and producer Rannie Raymundo, who saw in her not just talent—but vision. That collaboration opened doors she hadn’t knocked on in years.
“Through that, the indie world opened up for me, lalo na nung pandemic,” she shares. Her songs suddenly found their way to audiences in Australia, the US, Japan, and Singapore. It was like the world was waiting for her return.
One of the pivotal moments was when her song SELOS topped the charts of Madhouse Music, a well-known indie label. “Baguhan pa lang ako noon, kaya di ko inexpect,” she says.
But what stays with her the most? “Ang Bahay Ligaya moments,” she recalls—referring to a creative space and memory tied to her Madhouse days. “Mananatili iyon sa mahalaga.”
The Song She’ll Never Forget
If there’s one song she holds closest to her heart, it’s Pampang.
“I wrote it for my dad,” she says. But it’s more than that—it’s a layered tribute to family, environment, and sovereignty. It’s music with a spine.
She’s not the type to write just for writing’s sake. Her creative process is thoughtful.
“I write with my heart, re-write with my head,” she says with clarity. She draws inspiration not from heartbreak or fame, but from literature. From stories that need to be told differently.
Her tools? Nothing fancy. “Phone, pen, paper, and guitar,” she says. The simplicity suits her just fine.
Staying Indie and Standing Ground
Being independent isn’t a lifestyle choice for Prinsesani—it’s a statement. From production to promotion, she does it all.
“I mount my own concerts,” she explains. “Social media helps. Creative friends help. Pero mostly, it’s me.”
She knows how hard it is. “Mahirap i-market sarili mo sa isang industriya na sobrang saturated. Lalo kung wala kang team,” she says. “May puwang ba ako sa mundo nila?” she often wonders, half-laughing.
But doubt doesn’t live long with her. Her answer to fear is motion.
She even helped form the Palawan Songwriters Community—a platform for young composers on the island who don’t have the resources but have something to say.
“Alam ko ang kawalan dahil naranasan ko,” she says. And because of that, she’s determined to fill those gaps.
Writing Her Own Verse in History
Prinsesani doesn’t just want to make music—she wants to make space. Space for others, for stories, for forgotten places and unheard voices.
Her long-term dream? “To be more flexible with music,” she shares. She wants to finish her pending albums. She dreams of writing for a musical play. And if you ask her about her dream collaborations, she already ticked one off: Rannie Raymundo.
But if given the chance? “Ryan Cayabyab—musical. Odette Quesada—love song. Rico Blanco and Ely Buendia—rock!” she says with visible excitement.
And her message to aspiring songwriters?
“Sumulat ka lang. Gawin mo muna. It’s a privilege na hindi lahat ng tao nabibigyan. Kaya kung ikaw, nakakalikha—don’t waste it.”
From Palawan to the World
In the sea of artists, some scream to be heard. Prinsesani whispers. But the kind of whisper that makes you stop and listen.
She wants to be remembered not just for her music, but for what it stood for.
“Gusto ko maalala ang music ko bilang sumulat ng mapagpalayang berso,” she says. “Yung maipaalala ang halaga ng buhay, kalikasan, pagmamahal sa Diyos at sa pagiging tao.”
That’s how she writes. That’s how she sings. That’s how she lives.
Final Notes
To the community of Madhouse Music, she has one thing to say: “Maraming salamat. Sa inyo ako nagsimula at hinding hindi ko iyon nakakalimutan.”
To everyone else?
Catch Prinsesani on Spotify, YouTube, Instagram, and Facebook. Just search for her name. Her latest release, Tulog Na, is part of the Songwriters United Christmas album.
And if you’re an independent dreamer, still figuring things out?
“Sumulat ka…. lumikha ka. Husayan mo ang dangal ng iyong sining. Magtanghal ka sa entablado ng masa.”
Because in the end, the stage is wide. The stories are many. And voices like Prinsesani? They remind us that sometimes, the quiet ones say the most.
