Gender Stories from the Philippines

Produced by
BELGIAN NON-GOVERNMENT ACTORS,
ACTIVE IN THE PHILIPPINES
With support from
THE BELGIAN GOVERNMENT TROUGH THE
DIRECTORATE-GENERAL FOR DEVELOPMENT
COOPERATION AND HUMANITARIAN AID (DGD)
Writer and Editor
BARBARA R. FORTUNATO
Cover and Book Design
JOHN PAUL J. CLEMENTE

TABLE OF CONTENTS
Asserting recognition of women farmers
Breaking ground
Organizing young women
& LGBTQ++ in the Cordillera
Camille :
The football wonder girl
Courting controversy
Same-sex relationships in an
indigenous people’s community
From basket weaver to dream weaver
Her stories of FDC women in pursuit
of economic justice
Injecting gender into disaster
preparedness and response
Jovencia, formidable guardian
of the marine protected area
01
07
13
18
23
29
36
41
Mabuhay, the defiant response
to political persecution
Nanay Nita and inclusive
financial services
Noime joins
the labor force
Partnerships for innovative
anti-VAW campaigns
Shifting gears
The rise of women leaders in Sumilao
Sowing the seeds of gender equality
in farming communities
Targeting husbands &
men’s parenting skills
Ka Femia
First woman lumad in Congress
Unleashing the
entrepreneur
within
47
53
59
65
71
79
85
91
97

Belgian non-government development cooperation and solidarity with the
Philippines has a long history. Since the Marcos era, numerous NGOs and local
solidarity groups have supported the Filipino people in a wide range of themes,
projects, and actions of all sizes. In those years, present day common practices of
exploring synergies and coordination on complementarities among the different
actors were less or not yet practiced, though perhaps the seeds were spontaneously
laid through the weekly coming together of the Belgian volunteers in the Philippines in
the mid-nineties, the Philippine International Forum till around 2010, and later on the
semi-annual exchange meetings organized by the local office of the coalition of NGOs,
unions, movements, and various solidarity groups in Flanders (11.11.11).
In 2017, the Belgian government initiated a formalization of the interaction between
the Belgian NGOs, universities, and other non-government actors with programs in
the Philippines through a Common Context Analysis and a Joint Strategic Framework.
Here, each actor’s contributions to Joint Strategic Goals were identified, learning and
exchange systematically planned, and complementarities and synergies actively
explored.
FOREWORD
Meanwhile, four learning trajectories were initiated covering the themes of gender,
the importance and the role of children and youth in development interventions, the
impact of a possible change of the Philippine constitution on indigenous people, and
the status of the environment and climate change and their impact on agriculture.
The plan for this booklet on gender stories dates back to the gender workshop held
in July 2017. It aims to bring together and promote best practices and stories on
achieving gender equalities in a still male-dominated Philippine society. From the
football wonder girl Camille in Manila to Jovencia, a formidable guardian of a marine
protected area in Lanao del Norte; from Nanay Nita’s economic empowerment in
Camarines Norte to Ka Femia, the first woman lumad in Congress; from the women’s
leaders in Sumilao to the struggle for recognition of women farmers in Pampanga,
feel inspired to join us in our journey through these and eleven more testimonies of
economically, politically, and socially empowered girls, women, and men who
were able to bring about substantial gender changes in their family, community, or
organization, and as such add stepping stones towards a fully gender-equal Philippine
society.
With cordial thanks and appreciation to all contributors, our writer-editor,
Ms. Barbara R. Fortunato, and our lay-out artist, Mr. John Paul J. Clemente.
For the local JSF NGA group,
Roger Camps
roger.camps@kiyo-ngo.be
November 2019

Ka Elvie (2nd from left) with Indonesian women activists
In August 2019, 12 farmers in Lubao, Pampanga finally obtained
Certificates of Land Acquisition (CLOA) for the land that their
families had been tilling for generations. These were small plots
of land, the largest not even half a hectare, but their struggle to
claim these took all of 33 years.
Among these 12 were members of the Katipunan ng Bagong
Pilipina (KaBaPa or Association of the New Filipina, established
in 1975). One of their leaders, Elvira Fadriquelan, inherited her
family’s struggle to claim land, but she also inherited their
indomitable spirit. Her grandmother was a member of the
Hukbalahap, a peasant-led guerilla movement in Central Luzon
that fought against the Japanese occupation in World War II.
After independence, Ka Elvie’s mother continued the fight for
peasant rights. It is no surprise, therefore, that Ka Elvie is not
just a KaBaPa stalwart but also Vice President of the Pambansang
Koalisyon ng Kababaihan sa Kanayunan (PKKK, or National Rural
Women Coalition, established in 2003).
ASSERTING RECOGNITION
OF WOMEN FARMERS
01 Gender Stories Gender Stories 02

Filipinos have waged an age-old campaign for agrarian reform, particularly land
redistribution. When President Ferdinand Marcos was ousted in 1986 and a new
administration promised democracy and development, Ka Elvie and her colleagues in
KaBaPa stepped up their demand for land reform, lying on the ground to prevent the
landlord’s tractors from destroying their crops. Agrarian reform is also a central issue
for PKKK, which, in 2014, waged a national campaign to petition the Department of
Agrarian Reform (DAR) to include more than 100,000 hectares of agricultural lands
in its Land Acquisition and Distribution program under the Comprehensive Agrarian
Reform with Extension. But PKKK asked for even more: it wanted DAR to state the
names of women (and not just those of men) in the certificates of land ownership
award (CLOA), the document issued to prove their ownership of the land granted them
by DAR.
The struggle for land rights is doubly difficult for women farmers who are
indispensable in the agriculture. they are active in sowing, transplanting, weeding,
harvesting, post-harvest processing, and marketing, as well as in feeding the farm
workers. Yet, they are traditionally viewed as just wives or daughters of farmers. The
‘real’ farmer are the men, thus, it’s usually just their names that appear in the CLOA.
For rural women like Ka Elvie, this was an issue of gender equity. Having their
names on the CLOA signified recognition of their participation and contributions to
agriculture. It is official acknowledgement that they were farmers (and not just farmers’
wives or daughters) and, as such, have the right to own and develop land. In short, it
symbolizedanendtotheir“invisibility”. Italsomeantpracticalgains;havingtheirnames
in official documents like the CLOA would enable them to gain easier access to credit for
farming and small-scale enterprises, unlike in the past when they had to resort to money
lenders who charged onerous interest rates.
This is also why PKKK has been monitoring and lobbying for full implementation of
DAR Administrative Order #1 series of 2011 that recognizes women’s right to land
through the land titling to include the name of the woman agrarian reform beneficiary.
For example, the partial CLOAs issued last August bore the women’s name – but stated
as “married to”, as if the husbands were still the primary owners. When challenged,
DAR explained they just wanted to use up the old forms.
KaBaPa and PKKK continue to campaign for distribution of more land to farmers and
more services for agrarian reform beneficiaries.
As a founding member of PKKK, KaBaPa actively participated in PKKK’s campaigns to
advance the women’s agenda in the Philippines. PKKK initially proposed a bill on a
Magna Carta of Rural Women. Other women’s organizations seized on the idea and
expanded this into a Magna Carta of Women. PKKK was among those who helped
draft the provisions and implementing rules and regulations. Along with KaBaPa
president Trinidad Domingo, Ka Elvie played a key role in subsequent campaigns,
joining mass mobilizations, speaking at demonstrations, and lobbying with senators and
representatives to urge support for the Magna Carta. Their efforts were successful, and
the Magna Carta of Women was eventually passed into law in 2009.

National laws do not have teeth if they are not widely known and implemented,
particularly at the grassroots level. Thus, KaBaPa members campaigned for local
ordinances at the barangay (village) level, for example, to recognize the Magna
Carta of Women (Republic Act 9710) and the law defining violence against
women and children (VAWC) and providing for protective measures (Republic Act 9262).
Others campaigned for resolutions to adopt gender-sensitive barangay disaster risk
reduction and management plans and to form gender-based violence watch groups
in the barangay. Since all local governments are required to allocate 5% of their annual
budget to the promotion of gender and development, PKKK members proposed
projects and activities, thus helping influence decision-making on the barangay
budget. They also participated in barangay governance through representation in local
special bodies.
In 2016, Ka Elvie herself was appointed barangay tanod (the equivalent of a police or
security officer) and heads the VAW Desk in her village. She is also vice president of
the Federation of VAW Desk Officers in the municipality and NGO representative to the
Barangay Council for the Protection of Children.
Explicit in PKKK’s mission statement is to facilitate development of its member
organizations. PKKK seeks to build capacity by continuously conducting training
courses on community organizing and advocacy that enabled rural women like Ka
Elvie to hone their leadership skills. Seminars and roundtable discussions on national
issues increased understanding of governance issues, leading to better analytical skills.
PKKK also facilitates dialogues with lawmakers as well as local and national government
agencies like the Provincial Agrarian Reform Office – critical events that call for the rural
women to effectively present their situation, explain the urgency of action such as land
redistribution, practice their negotiation skills, and contribute to crafting policies.
By collaborating with other women’s organizations, PKKK member organizations
gain a much broader perspective of women’s concerns. This perspective is imbued
in all of PKKK’s work, where gender sensitivity is fundamental. For example, their
leadership training goes beyond the typical formula and examines the nature of feminist
leadership, “the power within vs. power over”. Ka Elvie often emphasized the distinct
role of women farmers, and that women and men are impacted by poverty differently.
In the Save Agrarian Reform Alliance, which continuously holds mobilizations and
lobbies with government agencies, KaBaPa and PKKK take the lead in injecting the
women’s perspective and holding gender sensitivity training at the community
level. PKKK’s legislative agenda remain as full as ever. One of its priorities is to get
government to immediately enact measures to contain the losses and damage
that the recently enacted Rice Tariffication Law has inflicted on small farmers.
Meanwhile, there are ongoing campaigns for passage of a National Land Use Act, a
Coconut Levy bill that genuinely benefits small farmers, and the Watershed Protection
Bill. PKKK participated in drafting versions of these bills and presented policy
recommendations that sought to address the needs of rural women.
Ka Elvie is already 54 years old, but she’s not slowing down. There will always be
challenges, but she can also point to significant gains:
More rural women are realizing their worth as women and as vital members of the
agriculture sector and their communities, capable of bringing change not only to
themselves but to other rural women as well.
There is also increased recognition, for example by DAR, of women as property
rights-holders. In turn, PKKK members are exercising their role as rights-holders by
participating in governance.

2018 was a seminal year for the Cordilleran Youth Center
(CYC). That summer, senior high schools in the Philippines had just
produced their first graduates. The student population in
universities, which had dipped in the previous two years, increased
once more, and the atmosphere in school campuses crackled with
energy. For many young people, it was their first time to leave
their families and communities to go and study in Baguio City, and
they were looking for organizations to anchor them and provide
support, as well as peer groups who shared their interests. The
youth have always been change agents, inclined to stretch their
boundaries and challenge the status quo. In such fertile grounds,
there was immense potential for organizing as well as empowering
the youth.
CYC’s response was to facilitate the formation of two gender-based
organizations: Innabuyog Gabriela Youth (Communal Spirit
Gabriela Youth, IGY) and Bahaghari (Rainbow), an LGBTQ++ youth
organization in the University of the Philippines Baguio (UPB).
Both organizations were breaking new ground. Unlike the usual
campus sorority, IGY focused on promoting women’s rights, along
with other civil and political rights. Bahaghari, on the other hand,
actively addresses gender issues and connects these to wider
concerns in the region and nation. The very existence of an LGBTQ++
group is radical in the Cordillera, where indigenous people were apt to
have conservative views on the subject of gender identity.
BREAKING GROUND
ORGANIZING YOUNG WOMEN &
LGBTQ++ IN THE CORDILLERA

Youth organizing is one of the main programs of CYC, which traces its roots as
far back as 1991. It also serves as the education-training and service center for
indigenous youth in the Cordillera region, which comprises of six provinces and
Baguio City. CYC’s network consists of six provincial youth organizations, a
Baguio City-wide youth organization, and smaller school-based and community-based
organizations. Althoughindigenousyouthremainsitsprimaryfocus,CYCalsoworkswith
non-indigenous youth, e.g., those whose families had migrated to the Cordillera or who
came here for studies.
CYC provides training on leadership and organizational management to enable
young leaders to speak with a stronger voice, especially when they campaign on
the rights of indigenous people, the right to quality and accessible education, and
other human and political rights. Cultural revitalization and development are
distinctly high in CYC’s agenda. The Cordillera is home to seven major
indigenous peoples: the Ibaloi, Kankanay, Kankanaey-Benguet, Kalinga, Ifugao,
Tingguian, and Isneg. CYC ensures that the youth, particularly those who migrated
to urban centers, know and celebrate their culture. A centerpiece of CYC’s programs is
balikili (going back to the community), through youth-elders exchange, where
elders share their indigenous culture, performing arts, and history of struggle for land.
Both IGY and Bahaghari quickly drew adherents. IGY currently has two
chapters in in UPB and St. Louis University, both in Baguio City, with plans to
expand to other schools. It is affiliated with Gabriela Philippines, the leading
network of women’s organizations in the country that is well known for
campaigns on gender equality. Through IGY, young women were able to learn more
about their rights and express their views on issues they faced as women. Just as
importantly, IGY created a safe space where women gained strength
from their solidarity.
Zoe Ramores, the founding Chair of IGY in UPB, speaks eloquently about her
journey in standing up for her rights. Although she had been a prominent student
activist for many years, Zoe buried a secret: her ex-boyfriend had abused her, both
physically and emotionally. It took many years before she disclosed the abuse.
“Being part of IGY UPB taught me that there are several others, especially
fellow women, who understand and who are victims themselves. I started to share
my story to other members of IGY UPB, and they helped me deal with what I was
feeling by being one of my constant support groups. I think this is what makes
gender organizations different from other organizations. It’s the ability to feel and
genuinely understand what your fellow women are experiencing. It’s the ability to
support without judgment, the ability to distinguish knowing pain and feeling it.”
With the support of IGY, Zoe has filed charges against her abuser.
CYC continues to support IGY through training on organizational management and
leadership skills (e.g., public speaking, writing statements, cultural workshops),
and by facilitating discussions on the rights of women, youth, and students.
The rise of Bahaghari has been just as phenomenal. In its first year alone, it
attracted 80 members from UPB. A core group has already been formed to organize a
Bahaghari chapter in Benguet State University.
LGBTQ++ face enormous challenges in the Cordillera. By and large, they are not
accepted in indigenous peoples’ cultures. Thus, some LGBTs come out only when
they leave home for the relative anonymity of urban centers, and return to the
closet when they go back to their communities. But even in the city, ridicule and
discrimination hound them – especially the gays and transgenders. Harassment is

particularly nasty in the streets. Keidy Transfiguracion, overall coordinator of CYC,
recounts witnessing bullying behavior against gays and transgender even in their own
activities. For example, they would be laughed at, or young men did not want to sit
beside them in group activities.
Things have improved since Bahaghari was established and actively campaigned for
recognition of LGBT rights. CYC itself was challenged to rid all vestiges of bullying.
During its activities, CYC introduced ground rules that explicitly call for respect for all
participants, regardless of gender identify. But the biggest driving force for change
are the LGBTs themselves, who consistently excel during discussions and serve as
facilitators or resource persons.
A prime example is Nico Ponce, the former Bahaghari Vice Chairperson who
currently heads the UP Baguio University Student Council. Nico credits CYC for
developing his leadership skills. “CYC helped me gain a better understanding of SOGIE
(Sexual Orientation, Gender Identity and Expression). Through them, I realized the
role of the youth, specifically the LGBTQ++ youth in nation-building. Their trainings
helped me develop as a leader and effectively engage the youth in discussions
on gender.”
Both IGY and Bahaghari participated in the One Billion Rising campaign in February
2019 and the International Working Women’s Day in March 2019. Bahaghari also
sponsored a Bi-visibility Week.
On July 7, 2019, CYC and Bahaghari also organized a Pride Forum in commemoration
of the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Riot. This included a roundtable discussion,
followed by a presentation of initial findings of the Cordillera Women Educational
Action and Research Center (CWEARC) research on LGBTs in the Cordillera. Bahaghari
members had assisted CWEARC in data-gathering.
Because both IGY and Bahaghari challenge gender stereotypes, their agenda
and interests often intersect. Shannen dela Cruz, current Chair of IGY UPB, was
raised by her lesbian aunt and her partner. “I was raised by two mothers – both
striving to become the best parents.” As a child, she struggled to explain to others
why her family tree was different. Discovering IGY and Bahaghari sharpened her
understanding of gender equality. “These progressive organizations enlightened
me that there is more to just accepting them. I learned that respecting them means
addressing their concerns and asserting for their rights.” Her mothers loved her dearly,
Shannen said. “One way of expressing that I love them too is by upholding their rights.”

CAMILLE
THE FOOTBALL WONDER GIRL
Camille was only six years old when she discovered what
would become her life’s passion: football.
Camille has been in the custody of Virlanie Foundation since
she was three days old. Her mother, destitute and disabled,
was unable to take care of Camille and her two siblings. She left
them with Virlanie, an NGO that cares for street children and
other children in need of special protection. Now 11, Camille has
known no other home but Virlanie and is happy here.
Camille smiles at the camera

Virlanie’s SIBUHI Center (Sining Buhay Hilom or art, life, healing) provides recreational
activities aimed at reinforcing the children’s self-esteem and self-confidence. “SIBUHI
encouraged us to do whatever extra-curricular activity we want, whether it is art,
music, or sports. Every activity is open to all – boys and girls,” Camille said. One of
SIBUHI’s longtime volunteers was coach of the Laos Football Club (laos or “has been”,
slang for old timer) in the Philippines, and it was he who introduced football to
Virlanie’s children. Small but nimble and a veritable bundle of energy, Camille quickly
picked up on the moves. Virlanie makes sure that she prioritizes her studies, and she
even has piano lessons. But football remains Camille’s undisputed passion.
Every Saturday, Camille and other members of the Laos Football Club play at various
pitches in Metro Manila. Sometimes, the club travels to other provinces in the country
to compete with local teams. Camille stands out, not only because she is the only girl
in the team of her age group, but because she demonstrates excellent football skills.
She has been designated her team’s striker and left fielder.
Football has boosted Camille’s self-confidence. “I love football, it truly makes me
happy.” Most of her teammates come from more affluent families, but in the pitch,
they are all equals. Because of the club, Camille has learned to engage with people
from different backgrounds. “By playing football, I get to meet a lot of kids who later
become my friends.”
The Laos Football club regularly competes in the Gothia Cup International
Football Games. In August 2019, for example, the Laos Football Club Quezon City was
champion in one group category in the games held in Qingdao, China. Camille has
applied to join the team that her club is sending to compete in the 2020 Gothia Cup.
“It will be a dream come true to play my favorite sports in an international league.”
This will also be her first time to go overseas, a prospect that naturally makes her very
excited.
In the school near her home, where Camille is now in Grade 5, she is also one of the
star players in football. Her team, composed of both boys and girls, practice regularly
in preparation for inter-school tournaments. “My second favorite sport is basketball,”
she confided.
As in most other countries, gender stereotyping is prevalent in the Philippines, with
boys and girls from a young age boxed into roles and expectations. Athleticism is
associated with boys, and a more demure behavior with girls: the typical
masculine/feminine divide. Those who go against gender norms are often subjected
to ridicule and called gay or lesbian – terms which, when hurled in this context, are
used to connote deviant behavior.
Gender stereotyping has therefore discouraged many girls from trying out for
sports other than swimming, running, or, for the wealthier class, gymnastics. Even
in the Laos Football Club, girls are a minority in the teams of most age groups.
Virlanie cites studies that found the participation rate for boys and girls is highest in
gender neutral sports such as swimming and running. Children as young as
eight years old can be affected by the gender stereotypes in sports and
physical activities.
Camille, doing what she is best at--football

Camille confides having overheard negative comments about the fact that she is the
only girl in her football team, and about wearing her football uniform most of the time,
even outside the pitch. She does not let these affect her. Camille’s biggest strength
is having the confidence to pursue what she wants, regardless of gender stereotypes.
“I play football and basketball simply because that’s what I am good at.”
Her quiet confidence is a credit to Virlanie. In each of Virlanie’s eight homes, where
children live according to age groups and psychological development, the children
grow up with teams of house parents and social workers who strive to create a warm,
nurturing environment. House parents receive regular training that equip them
with parenting skills. Virlanie emphasizes respect for all, regardless of sex or gender
identity, and discourages gender stereotyping. Every evening, the children talk to
their houseparents about anything that bothers them. If there are interpersonal
conflicts, for example, these are quickly resolved because the children are encouraged
to speak up.
At home, Camille does not feel she is “judged” for her life as an athlete, nor for her
preference to wear shorts over dresses – because how can you bend it like Beckham
while wearing a dress? She is free to engage in whichever activities make her happy
and to dress as she wants. The trusting relationships within Virlanie, this precious gift
of freedom to be herself, are what keep Camille at an even keel.
Because of this enabling environment, Camille has freely expressed herself
throughout the years. Her ability to challenge sexist barriers and restrictive notions
about women’s physical appearance, athletic ability, and participation in sports, is
evident through her increased involvement in football. For her, sports are open to all
genders. She does not just play football, which is largely the domain of males in the
Philippines. She plays alongside the boys, seeing herself as their equal.
Even looking into the future, Camille does not feel hemmed in by careers that are
proscribed by gender stereotypes. “I want to be a fire fighter someday.” Her doors are
flung wide open. Her dreams are not dictated by gender roles.
Name changed to protect identity
Could a modern day same-sex relationship possibly be accepted in an
indigenous people’s community that is keen to preserve its traditional
culture?
This was the predicament of Jing and Aya.
COURTING
CONTROVERSY
SAME-SEX RELATIONSHIPS IN AN
INDIGENOUS PEOPLE’S COMMUNITY

Jing is Manobo, a product of the Alternative Learning Center for Agricultural and
Livelihood Development (ALCADEV), which runs a boarding school for the lumad
(term for indigenous people in Mindanao) in Lianga, Surigao del Sur province. After
graduation, she became a volunteer teacher of the Tribal Filipino Program in Surigao
del Sur (TRIFPSS), an NGO that ran 22 elementary schools for lumads in the region.
Aya is Bisaya, the generic term used to refer to non-lumads in the area. She was based
in Sibagat, Agusan del Sur, assigned as office staff of the ALCADEV’s satellite school’s
income generating project.
They met during joint activities of TRIFPSS and ALCADEV. Staff of both programs no-
ticed they seemed good friends, always huddled in conversation. One day in 2017,
their secret was out, to everyone’s consternation: Jing and Aya were in a relationship.
Among the Manobos and other lumad groups in Mindanao, traditional views still
prevailed about sexuality and gender identity. Gender stereotyping was common, and
from a young age children were raised with fixed ideas about how boys and girls should
behave, as well as their roles in life. This was also true among the Bisaya and settler
communities – the norm, in fact, in most rural communities.
This is not to say that there were no lesbians or gays at all. Maricres Pagaran,
ALCADEV executive director, remembers a gay student in school, and even two or three
gay teachers. But this was not a topic openly discussed. They just lived in the closet.
Jing was not out during her student days. The community found out only when she was
already in a relationship with Aya.
The reception to their relationship was mixed. Some disapproved and openly ridiculed
the couple. There were attempts to separate them. Others thought it was a youthful
folly that would run its course.
Jing’s father Eli had a more vehement reaction. This was to be expected. As the baylan
or spiritual leader of the tribe, he was the keeper of the Manobo’s history and soul.
“Our culture does not permit gays and lesbians to exist,” he said. Later, he admitted
that he had even contemplated killing Aya.
Aya’s family was just as unhappy with the news, and her father could not reconcile
himself to the gender identity she now claimed.
Despite the resentment Aya faced in the community, one thing in her favor was that
her sister Lanie had taught in ALCADEV for many years. The lumads liked Lanie, they
trusted her, and the goodwill she had built meant they could not shun Aya.
Since ALCADEV was established in 2004, it had conducted skills training courses for
women and supported the development of women leaders. Many teachers and school
staff were female and accustomed to being accorded respect. Gender sensitivity
training courses were conducted in the community, and gender stereotypes were
slowly being challenged. But the issues of sexual orientation and gender identity and
expression that Jing and Aya posed were new.
In 2017, ALCADEV participated in a gender mainstreaming training conducted by
Solidagro for its partner organizations. Maricres and another staff were ALCADEV’s
representatives to the training. “One of the topics discussed was that as a policy,
we should respect everyone, regardless of gender orientation. We always re-echo
whatever training we get, so we went home, we shared this with the other staff,
students, and the community.” The school adopted a no bullying policy and a
non-discriminatory policy in hiring teachers and staff. It reiterated the principle of
equal treatment of all men, women, and LGBTs. Within dormitories, LGBT youth were
assured safe spaces in their room assignments. Maricres reckons that all these helped
nudge the community to accept Jing and Aya as a couple.
The lumads’ experience of marginalization, simply because they were the “minority” in
Philippine society, may also have had a hand in making them empathize with Jing and
Aya, who faced discrimination because they didn’t fit in with traditional gender norms.
It was not difficult for them to understand the struggle of the LGBT community.
When Jing and Aya raised the possibility of formalizing their relationship in a
kumbeyte (wedding ceremony in the tribe), as heterosexual lumads do, the
couple courted controversy all over again. Jing’s father, the baylan, insisted
a kumbeyte could only be performed between a man and a woman. To do
otherwise was to invoke a curse, and he feared something bad would happen to the
tribe. Meanwhile, Aya’s parents remained impervious to the relationship.

Things came to a head with the intervention of the Malahutayong
Pakigbisog alang sa Sumusunod (MAPASU, Persevering Struggle for the Next
Generation). As the organization representing lumads in five municipalities of Surigao
del Sur, MAPASU is at the forefront of campaigns for lumad land rights and culture.
Earlier, it opposed traditional gender issues such as early marriage and arranged
marriage. Now, MAPASU called for meetings to resolve the conflict between the two
families. But since Aya’s parents refused to come, MAPASU appointed a respected
elder, who had often acted as mediator during conflicts, to serve as her “lawyer”, along
with her sister Lanie.
Many exchanges later, Baylan Eli proclaimed the diwata (deity) demanded one pig and
one silver ring as sinugbahan (dowry). Aya complied.
The kumbeyte was set for the full moon in September 2018 – because what can be
more romantic than a ceremony under the mellow light of the moon?
Baylan Eli officiated, performing the pangapog to recognize their union. “The ritual
is to introduce both of them to the tribe, the family, and to Magbabaya (the Creator)
as partners in life,” he explained. Instead of using the term asawa (husband or wife),
Jing and Aya used higala (literally friend or in this context, partner).
Names changed to protect identity
“I can’t fully accept the fate of my daughter since it is against our tribe’s culture. But I
recognize their rights. Our relatives planned to separate them, but I cannot decide for
the couple. I don’t want to violate their rights.”
Postscript to a wedding
Due to increasing attacks by the military, ALCADEV had to shut down its satellite school
where Aya worked. TRIFPSS, too, had to close 12 of its own schools. Their struggle
continues.
And alas, 11 months later, Jing and Aya’s marriage broke down due to personal conflict.
The postscript to the wedding may be disappointing, but it is not a setback to LGBTs.
Jing and Aya’s kumbeyte will never be forgotten. Their bold resolve in sticking to
their principles and challenging gender norms has won them grudging respect. Most
importantly, they set a precedent. Once LGBTs are out of the closet, they cannot be
pushed back, and the community cannot ignore them. Even Baylan Eli expects more
LGBTs to claim their space in the tribe.
It is Jing and Aya’s hope that lumad communities – and the larger communities
outside – create new traditions to demonstrate their acceptance of LGBTs.

In 2017, Elena Sarhento took out a loan to buy a second-hand fishing
boat for her husband. The following year, she took a second loan to
purchase another boat.
It sounds very simple, but it took a lifetime for Elena to reach this
moment.
Elena and her husband Danilo got married when they were still in
their teens, and the children quickly followed. Like many men in the
coastal barangay (village) of San Jose in Talisay, Camarines Norte, Danilo
had the traditional view that he was the provider and Elena would be
the housewife who took care of household chores and brought up the
children. With little education, Danilo didn’t have many options and
ended up working for a neighbor who owned a fishing vessel.
Elena finished only elementary school education, but Danilo encouraged
her to apply to the Department of Education’s Alternative Learning
System which targets school dropouts, so that she could tutor their
growing children. As a result, Elena received the equivalence of a high
school diploma. She speaks affectionately of Danilo, grateful that he
has no vices, which is just as well because money was tight. When the
government rolled out the Pantawid Pamilyang Pilipino Program
(Bridging Program for the Filipino Family, popularly known as 4Ps),
they applied for the conditional cash grants that helped keep the
children in school. They also benefited from a housing project set up by
the Gawid Kalinga Community Development Foundation.
FROM BASKET WEAVER
TO DREAM WEAVER

In 2015, Elena was introduced to the Talisayon Multi-Purpose Cooperative
(TAMUCO). ItwasoneofthepartnersofTriasSoutheastAsiainafive-yearprogramcalled
“Connecting, Empowering, and Transforming for a More Sustainable and Inclusive
World”. The program aims to build capacities of member-based organizations
and to promote entrepreneurship and market integration for family farmers and
small- scale entrepreneurs. Gender equality and inclusivity are cross-cutting themes
in the program.
TAMUCO invited Elena and other Gawad Kalinga beneficiaries to attend a training on
weaving. She had no prior experience in this craft, but she was up to the challenge. The
raw material, pandanus simplex (a specie of pandanus or screwpine), locally known as
karagumoy, grew abundantly in the village and was just free for the taking.
After the training, the TAMUCO Nature Craft Project hired Elena to weave bags,
baskets, trays, and placemats. Elena also received additional training in drying and
dyeing the karagumoy, and in product design and costing. Weavers were given
incentives like participation in learning visits to weaving projects in two nearby
provinces so they could compare designs and processes.
At first, Elena reported to the TAMUCO office, bringing along her youngest child who
was not yet in school. When she got pregnant with her fourth child, TAMUCO agreed to
let her work from home. This kind of flexible work arrangement is appreciated by the
weavers. Pandan leaves are tough and spiky, and Danilo helped gather these. Every
week, she delivered the finished products to TAMUCO. The payment depended on the
size of the product, e.g., a large basket would earn her 70 pesos, and a small basket 30
pesos. On average, she earned 1,500 pesos per week.
Two years later, in 2017, Elena felt ready to go a step further. She paid a total of 700
pesos (initial share capital, membership and registration fee) to join the TAMUCO
cooperative and attended the Pre-Membership Education Seminar. She then availed
of the cooperative’s productive loan service and borrowed 25,000 pesos to buy a
second-hand fishing boat for her husband. It seemed like a bold move and a huge
amount. But she and Danilo were confident that with income from her weaving and
the increased income from fishing with their own boat, they could meet the 3,600
pesos monthly amortization.
Elena also participated in the Village Savings and Loan Association (VSLA) that TAMUCO
organized. The VSLA has weekly meetings where each member submits the savings
they had agreed on. To maximize these meetings, they also had sessions on gender
orientation and on vegetable gardening. They even tend a vegetable garden together,
which brings additional income for the group.
When the local Department of Social Welfare and Development invited 4Ps beneficiaries
to attend training courses, Elena eagerly came forward. She attended courses on
values formation, health, and family planning.
By now, Elena was on a roll, soaking in all available opportunities for capacity building.
She signed up to train and later serve the community as a Barangay Health Worker, for
which she receives a modest 900 pesos a month honorarium from the government.
After repaying her loan to TAMUCO, Elena took out a second loan, this time to purchase
a brand-new boat for Danilo.
Recently, she took the exam to qualify for a scholarship from Food for the Hungry to
study midwifery.

From a shy housewife, Elena has blossomed into an articulate, confident woman who
takes initiative and speaks her mind. Previously totally dependent on her husband’s
income, she now derives huge satisfaction from earning money herself. Women
should not just be confined to household chores; they can contribute to the household
income, too, she attests.
She takes huge pride in having played a pivotal role in fulfilling her husband’s dream
of having their own boat – two boats, in fact. This has given her confidence to
propose that they use income from one boat for fishing gear and operating
expenses, and reserve income from the other boat for household needs. In the past,
she would have been reticent to express her opinion on money matters since she did not
share in generating income, but now she wants equal say on family expenses. Having
witnessed her fortitude, Danilo is also more willing to listen to her ideas. Moreover,
Elena has earned his deep respect. At the same time, he is more active with chores at
home, performing tasks he did not do before, such as taking care of children, doing the
laundry, or cooking and cleaning his fish catch when Elena is at work.
In 2018, Elena and Danilo were second prize winner in the Huwarang Pamilya
(Exemplary Family) awards of the Department of Social Welfare and Development in
the village.
So much has happened in just four years. Elena acquired new skills in weaving, which
resulted in a new source of income for the family. Participation in the cooperative and
VSLA opened the door to credit, enabling them to achieve their dream of owning a
fishing boat. Increased income and confidence propelled her to make more decisions.
The balance of power in her marriage is at a more even plane. Elena is testament of the
height that an empowered woman can achieve, when given the opportunity to grow
and shine.

Mercy Donor is a formidable woman who wears many hats.
She started as a Barangay (village) Health Worker mobilized by the
government. Further training from the NGO WomanHealth
made her realize health is a human right, which strengthened her
commitment to women’s health needs. From health worker,
Mercy became a community organizer, helping set up Piglas
Kababaihan (“Women Breaking Free”) in her community of informal
settlers. She had been recognized as a community leader from
serving as her neighbors’ go-to person whenever they needed
money, whether it was for a newborn baby or for a funeral.
Mercy is also a devoted mother and wife, and a sari-sari store
(variety store) owner. Her days are a constant whirl of activities,
but Mercy will always make time for another role: as a respected
leader of the Women’s Committee of the Freedom from Debt
Coalition (FDC).
Mercy first came to know FDC through WomanHealth, which is a
member-organization. Piglas Kababaihan too joined FDC in 2009. As
an eloquent advocate of the rights of women and informal settlers
and of public health, Mercy is considered a valuable resource within
FDC. The feeling is mutual: Mercy and Piglas Kababaihan also see
tangible benefits from joining the coalition.
HER STORIES OF FDC
WOMEN IN PURSUIT
OF ECONOMIC JUSTICE

FDC was launched in 1987 to campaign for freedom from “illegitimate debt” incurred
under the administration of President Ferdinand Marcos. Over the years, it has taken
on a wide range of development issues, primarily economic justice.
Initially, majority of FDC’s member-organizations were represented in coalition
meetings by men, and leadership positions were male dominated. FDC counts
among its members women’s organizations and feminist leaders, and it was they who
insisted that women’s voices be heard, that FDC positions should not just be “generic
development activist” but imbued with a gender perspective.
Current FDC executive director Zeena Bello Manglinong recounts that in 1989, FDC
organized the National Congress on Women and the Debt. The Congress issued the
declaration “Women Want Freedom from Debt”, which asserts that the debt burden
is heavier on women. Participants organized themselves into the Women and Debt
Ka Mercy (left) and Yuen (middle)
Network that served to coordinate FDC member’s debt-related initiatives. This
women’s formation and network converted the following year into the FDC-Women’s
Committee, tasked to mainstream the issues of debt and structural adjustment
programs into the women’s agenda. As such, FDC became a venue for women to study,
discuss, and mobilize on economic issues affecting women. It was also mandated to
mainstream feminist perspectives and gender concerns into FDC advocacy and the
organization itself. Ten years after, to further institutionalize gender mainstreaming,
FDC dedicated human and financial resources and set up the Gender Desk which later
became the Women and Gender Program (WGP) that is meant to be implemented by
the whole coalition, with the active involvement by the Women’s Committee.
Through the WGP, meant to complement the Women’s Committee’s program of
action in campaigning, FDC provides for Women’s Spaces to explore not just theoretical
concepts but also encourage sharing of experiences and “her-stories”. All political
blocs in FDC are represented in the Women’s Committee, but at the Committee’s core
is a dozen of the most active members, including Mercy. Because they come from
different backgrounds – labor, rural women, urban poor, etc – each one brings in a
distinct perspective that challenges the others to think beyond their own sectoral
concerns, even as they increase appreciation of each other’s context.
The impact of the WGP and the Women Committee is evident in the competencies
built through regular training courses for FDC member-organizations on topics such
as Feminist Economics, Gender and Development, Women and Climate, and Gender
and Tax Justice. To further popularize these issues at the grassroots level, the WGP
develops information, education, and campaign materials such as placards and posters
in the local language.
FDC developed a corps of grassroots researchers. For example, when the government
introduced a controversial comprehensive tax reform program, FDC trained the women
on empirical research, including the conduct of community surveys, to generate data
that could be used for FDC campaigns. The grassroots women also gained research
and analytical skills and capacities on topics that were traditionally considered the
domain of “experts”. This strengthened their ability to serve as agents of change in
their communities.

Another outcome is further integration of a feminist agenda in FDC campaigns and
advocacies. Exchanges in Women’s Spaces, backed up by empirical research,
sharpened FDC positions, policy agenda, and recommendations, thus constituting a
distinct feminist agenda. These also informed specific campaigns such as stopping
electricity and water rates hike, monitoring and reporting abuses in local governance
through budget advocacies, anti-corruption initiatives, among others.
In Mercy’s community, FDC’s presence is not limited to macro-economic
campaigns. FDC also helped them deal with a long-standing problem: water. Mercy’s
community is barely a kilometer away from the City Hall, right in the center of
a modern metropolis, yet they did not enjoy the quotidian joy of piped water in
their homes. FDC mentored Mercy in lobbying skills and facilitated introduction to
authorities at the government agency for water systems. Mercy’s success in obtaining a
water source for public use cemented her leadership position in her community; it also
reinforced her appreciation for FDC as an organization that genuinely supports
the rights of informal settlers. “My engagement with FDC and the FDC Women’s
Committee has strengthened my resolve in continuing to fight for our rights that have
been neglected for the longest time by the government.”
Another seasoned campaigner and active member of the FDC Women’s
Committee is Yuen Abana, who represents Partido Manggagawa (Labor Party).
“Getting involved with FDC has made me more confident when engaging with
government and corporations. It helped me face different types of people and
developed my capacity for campaigning and organizing. It made me aware that the
fight for economic justice should be led by women for their own emancipation.”
Her participation in FDC also led to a transformation in Yuen’s relationship with her
ex-husband, also a labor organizer. At work, he treated her like the other activists,
but at home, they fell back on traditional roles. “He expected to be cared for and
served as a husband, although we both were busy with our involvement as organizers.
But because of my involvement with the FDC Women Committee, I made it a point to
explain my learnings (on women’s concerns and issues). Slowly, he began to change his
traditional notions and expectations. Household responsibilities, which before were a
source of tension between us, became more manageable; he volunteered to take on
more tasks.”

When Supertyphoon Haiyan crossed the Philippines in November
2013, leaving a wide path of devastation, the Pambansang Koalisyon
ng Kababaihan sa Kanayunan (PKKK, or National Coalition of Rural
Women) scrambled to assist their member organizations in the
provinces of Samar, Eastern Samar, Leyte, and Biliran. In Samar,
PKKK initially assisted its members in Basey, but eventually expanded
relief and rehabilitation operations to the adjacent town of Marabut,
particularly the inaccessible mountain barangays (villages) which
received scant attention from humanitarian agencies.
INJECTING GENDER INTO
DISASTER PREPAREDNESS
AND RESPONSE
Jenna (in yellow shirt) with Marabut SHeG youth members
Yuen takes her responsibility for mentoring young women leaders very seriously.
“I encourage the women I work with to continue questioning and to be well-versed on
issues that affect us. To be an effective leader, one has to be knowledgeable, but that
knowledge should be used to help women translate these in the actual and concrete
situations they are in. It must be relevant to them as women. I emphasize that FDC’s
work is only half of the needed work; we, as women, share the other half. With our
own commitments and convictions as women, we can help win the fight and claim our
economic justice.”
FDC is made even stronger as a Coalition with women taking on leadership roles not
only in their communities and organizations but also in the networks they collaborate.
Having been able to mainstream gender values and principles into the Coalition’s
structure and practices has ensured that FDC walk their talk.

PKKK provided support for repair and construction of shelter. It also conducted
training courses on basic project management, simple bookkeeping, and sustainable
agriculture. Women’s organizations received resources to engage in hog raising,
vegetable gardens, and production of eggs and tikog (reeds used to weave mats).
Capacity building also focused on women’s rights and protection from gender-based
violence.
PKKK’s early recovery and rehabilitation projects started in mid-2015. It was
important to strengthen the local community’s capacity so that they did not
become dependent on humanitarian NGOs who, eventually, would wrap up their
programs and leave. The focus, therefore, was to build resilience within the
community, and especially among the women.
PKKK supported the women in forming self-help groups (SHeG) in order to rebuild their
lives and reduce their vulnerability in the face of disasters, including poverty. Today
there are a total of 24 SHeGs in five barangays, each with around 10-15 members, and
organized according to their economic status. All of them were living in poverty, but
those whose families had the advantage of owning a plow, carabao, or a small parcel
of land formed a separate SHeG from those who had virtually no resources and merely
earned their keep as tenants or landless agricultural workers.
The trauma of Haiyan remained fresh; it had made them uncomfortably aware of
the shortcomings of disaster response if these did not take into account the distinct
needs of women. In reality, disaster risk reduction and management (DRRM) is often
gender-blind. Relief packages missed items essential to women, such as sanitary pads
and underwear, or diapers for small children. Women felt intensely vulnerable to the
risk of sexual harassment in evacuation centers. Nevertheless, many chose not to
report instances when they were violated by inappropriate gestures and touching,
casual innuendoes, peeping in unsecured bathing areas, and even sexual violence.
During emergencies, lactating mothers and widows felt under more strain to provide
for their families.
The women in Marabut pointed out that because they were often the first
responders to disasters, more effort should be made to build their capacity in disaster
preparedness and response. They proposed a bigger role in risk assessment, identifying
where the vulnerable women in the community lived, and contributing to contingency
planning. What the women described was essentially a shift that saw them from
passive beneficiary to active participants in DRRM.
The SHeGs thus became a channel for spirited discussion on gender-responsive and
inclusive disaster preparedness and response. Women drafted contingency plans and
lobbied with municipal and barangay government units to adopt these.
Because the women felt they were not given priority in rehabilitation, the SHeGs were
also designed to address their financial needs.
All SHeGs practice savings mobilization. Local leaders and community facilitators
acted as moderators during the initial meetings, but all decisions were made by the
members themselves – decisions as simple as the name of their SHeG (Healthy SHeG,
MasayaorHappySHeG),orpolicydecisionsasconsequential,forexample,ashowdowe
practice rotational leadership, how much is the weekly savings of each member, when
can they withdraw their own funds or apply for a loan, should they charge interest
payments for loans and how much. In some SHeGs, members set aside as little as ten
pesos each week; others who were slightly better off saved twenty pesos. The amount
may seem miniscule, but over time the rural women accumulated enough to fall back
on during health emergencies or for their children’s education. Small improvements
were noted. They did not anymore have to go to exploitative informal money lenders.
A breakthrough for some women was saving enough for monthly social security
contributions.
Jenna (center) and Ampy Miciano (left)

Without their realizing it, the women were inspiring their children who witnessed their
mothers’ dogged determination to set aside savings, and the benefits of organizing. To
everyone’s surprise, the girls and boys asked to form their own SHeG, which they called
Young Achievers. They were elementary and high school students, the youngest only
10 years old, the older ones 16 and 17. All diligently set aside a small amount from
their school allowance. According to the SHeG leader Jenna Rose Abayan, this has
enabled them to save for their personal and school needs. The Young Achievers SHeG
has its own dream, too: they are asking the village government to allocate space and
funds for a community playground as well as a mini-library stocked with educational
materials.
PKKK admits that some SHeGs did break up. Villages are 18 kilometers from the
town center, with terrible roads and unreliable/expensive transportation, thus forcing
some residents to make the difficult decision to move residence. In one mountain
barangay, the women joined their children who went to schools in the lowlands, thus
discontinuing the SHeG. Another SHeG could not be sustained because its members,
composed of Mamanwas (indigenous people), were traditionally nomadic. Occasionally,
the Mamanwas continue to seek advice from PKKK local community facilitators. Other
SHeGs disbanded because of personal conflict among members or when members left
for jobs outside the community. Some women were also enticed to join programs of
better-funded NGOs who promised to match the savings mobilized.
But for PKKK, the Marabut SHeG initiative has been largely successful. A critical factor,
according to PKKK secretary-general Amparo Miciano, is the systematic approach they
adopted to building the capacity of SHeGs and empowering rural women. All their
work was guided by the Rural Women Agenda and the Agenda of Young Rural Women
and Children. Banking on many years of practical experience, PKKK developed modules
and conducted training courses on women’s rights, children’s rights, and existing laws
and mechanisms women could use to advance these rights. Best practices in advocacy
were shared. Women who had completed the courses went on to train others, and
provided information that enabled them to act individual concerns as well as
community issues.
As a result, the rural women of Marabut are gradually lobbying to convince state
agencies and local leaders to step up as duty bearers and to shift from a traditional
disaster risk reduction and management approach to one that is gender-sensitive and
inclusive. SHeG leaders are gaining confidence and skills, defying stereotypes that bind
them to house-bound roles.
When external funding dries up, many organizations become inactive. In Marabut, the
women’s organizations became stronger. The PKKK self-help approach, including the
SHeGs’ savings mobilization approach, can be replicated in their resource-poor partner
organizations and communities.
More SHeGs are in the process of formation in two additional villages. Likewise, there
are initiatives to form more youth-based SHeGs. Eventually, PKKK says, the direction is
towards a federation of SHeGs in Marabut.

Jovencia Postrano does not cut a particularly imposing figure. She
is greying, already in her 60s, and yet she commands respect from the
community as she strides purposefully along the coast. Jovencia is one
of the guardians of the Pikalawag-Dableston marine protected area
in Sultan Naga Dimaporo, Lanao del Norte. She and other volunteers
are responsible for preventing illegal fishers from encroaching on its
waters.
Before the establishment of the marine protected area (MPA),
cyanide and dynamite fishing were rife in the barangays (villages) of
PikalawagandDableston. Marineresourceswereseriouslydamagedand
depleted, and fishers bewailed the low fish catch that forced them to go
farther and farther away to fill their nets.
JOVENCIA, FORMIDABLE
GUARDIAN OF THE MARINE
PROTECTED AREA

Following long discussions, a proposal was made to designate an MPA – an area where
fishing activities are prohibited, thereby allowing the ecosystem to recover, restore
biodiversity, and improve fish stocks. The idea was backed by three organizations of
small-scale fishers, namely, the Nagkahiusang Mangingisda sa Illana Bay
(NAMAIBAY, United Fishers of Illana Bay), Nagkahiusang Katawhang Mangingisda sa
Pikalawag (NAKAMPI, United Fisherfolk in Pikalawag), and the Nipa-Nipa Muslim
Patutugis Association (Muslim Fishers Association of sitio Nipa-Nipa, barangay
Pikalawag, NIMUSPA). All three were supported by the Lanao Aquatic and Marine
Fisheries Center for Community Development (LAFCCOD), an NGO that has been
promoting responsible coastal resource management since 1989. LAFCCOD’s
support for the MPA is one of their projects under the Tri-People Programme on Food
Sovereignty and Peace Building supported by Entraide et Fraternite and the Belgian
Development Cooperation.
To achieve this goal, LAFCCOD and the fishers organizations facilitated barangay-level
consultations. Local officials became their champions, helping them lobby with the
Sangguniang Bayan (Municipal Council) and the Municipal Fisheries and Agriculture
Committee to pass an ordinance declaring the MPA. They also went on study visits
to other marine sanctuaries to learn the intricacies of installing MPA devices and
management. In 2003, Sultan Naga Dimaporo finally passed a municipal ordinance
declaring the MPA.
The MPA’s core area consists of 26 hectares, starting from the shoreline itself and
extending to the mangroves, seagrass, and coral areas – all these are critical
components of a coastal ecosystem. The fishers organizations worked together to
develop an MPA management plan, including clear responsibilities for
co-management, and in putting up floaters and bamboo poles that mark the MPA’s
boundaries. A guardhouse was constructed along the coast. Within the site, all forms
of fishing are strictly prohibited. Snorkelling is allowed only for research and surveys,
but recreational swimming is forbidden.
More barangay consultations followed, explaining the rationale for the MPA and
enjoining everyone’s compliance. All members of the fishers organizations were
required to participate in seminars on coastal resource management; even today,
new members have to attend courses on environmental protection and conservation.
It wasn’t very hard to convince most residents: after all, most relied on fishing as their
livelihood and had seen first-hand the destructive nature of illegal fishing methods.
Even so, it was a challenge to invoke everyone’s compliance, especially when the MPA
started to regenerate and teem with fish.
This is where Jovencia comes in. She and other volunteers, all of them members of
the fishers organizations, are responsible for patrolling the area to ensure the MPA’s
integrity is respected. Because of the security risks, some members of fishers
organizations are reluctant to serve as monitors. Monitoring is usually taken on by
women during the day, and by men at night.
Interestingly, women have a slight majority in the membership of the organizations.
In fishing households, fishing is usually done by men who go out at night. Women are
responsible for preparation of fishing gears, looking for capital, selling the fish catch,
and drying fish. Because organizational meetings are often held during the day
when men are asleep or resting, it’s often the women who attend and are active in
organizational activities.

MPA monitoring teams are all volunteers; they are not paid for their services.
Jovencia stands out as their informal leader, the person they often run to to report the
presence of violators. Like most fishing families, she lives nearby, just a brisk
ten-minute walk from the shoreline. Sometimes, her husband joins her monitoring
the MPA. Ifillegalfishersarespotted,ateamofvolunteermonitorssetsofftoaccostthem.
The monitor, for example Jovencia, would be accompanied by a male member of the
fishers organization paddling the boat (they don’t have motorized boats). From afar,
they can tell if the illegal fishers are armed. During these instances, they seek help from
barangay authorities to reduce the threat to themselves. It’s often the same people,
sighs Joel Catipay, LAFCCOD’s project coordinator in the area. Some people just don’t
get it; they keep trying to push their luck.
Within a few years, the benefits of the MPA quickly became apparent. The marine
resources regenerated and diversified. Fish population increased, and fish catch
improved in the surrounding waters. Fishers did not have to go as far as they
previously did to cast their lines or nets. Today, LAFCCOD-trained local research
assistants continuously monitor corals, fish stock, and fish catch. Mangrove
reforestation is also sustained.
Another gain is evident in the cordial relations between the Muslim and Christian
communities. In the past, there was tension because of religious differences, which
politicians sometimes manipulate. Members of NAMAIBAY and NAKAMPI are
Christian, while NIMUSPA’s members are Muslim. Working daily through
co-management and mangrove reforestation has forged stronger bonds and social
cohesion. To reduce the possibility of conflict, they agreed that NAMAIBAY and
NAKAMPI would deal with illegal fishers who were Christian, while NIMUSPA would
attend to Muslim violators.
Jovencia can testify to all these changes. But the community also testifies to the
changes they see in her. When Jovencia joined NAMAIBAY in 1997, she was shy and
easily intimidated, excusing herself as having studied only up to Grade 4. She could
hardly speak in front of a crowd. After completing a battery of courses – fishery
laws and ordinances, leadership skills training, facilitators training, gender sensitivity
training, sustainable livelihoods training – Jovencia visibly gained more confidence.
She used skills learned from a livelihoods training to produce seaweeds and to process
these into liquid fertilizer that she sells. She has also become adept in drying fish,
which commands a higher price in the market.
From the onset, she has been involved in every activity related to the MPA, from
projectplanning, lobbying for the municipal ordinance declaring the MPA, campaigns on
environmental protection, installation of demarcations, and now in monitoring and
surveillance.
After attending to her backyard vegetable garden and domestic chores in the
morning, Jovencia goes to the marine sanctuary site for monitoring and surveillance.
She nips home for lunch, and then resumes monitoring. Over the years, she has
confronted many violators. Some cases are settled within the Marine Sanctuary
Management Council, while others are brought to the Barangay Council or to the police
for formal complaints.
Jovencia and other women members of the fishers organizations are indispensable
in the success of the MPA. No less than the municipal mayor recognize their
contributions. At the launch of another MPA in Sultan Naga Dimaporo, he cited the
women as role models in managing coastal resource projects.

Proclamation No. 216 Declaring a state of martial law and
suspending the writ of the privilege of habeas corpus in the
whole of Mindanao was issued in May 2017 as the immediate
response to Isis-inspired terrorist attacks in Marawi City. We
need extraordinary powers to control lawlessness and defend
the populace, government insisted.
Under the Constitution, martial law can be declared for 60
days, but its extension requires approval by both Senate and
the House of Representative. The urban warfare that utterly
destroyed Marawi ended after five months, in October. And
yet, more than two years later, martial law remains in effect
throughout Mindanao.
The government has been accused of targeting not just terrorists,
but also stepping up attacks against its critics. Among those who
feel they are caught in the military’s crosshairs is the Gabriela
Crisis Center in General Santos City.
The Crisis Center was established in 2012 as a project of the
Gabriela Women’s Party and functions as Gabriela’s regional
center in SOCCSKSARGEN.
MABUHAY, THE DEFIANT
RESPONSE TO POLITICAL
PERSECUTION

The Crisis Center’s services are not limited to survivors of domestic violence and
sexual abuse. It also serves as a sanctuary for women and their families who are
fleeing bombings and military activities in their communities. Because of Gabriela’s
record in speaking out against all forms of abuse and its critical stance against successive
government administrations, it has long been subject to red-baiting and vilification.
This worsened with the imposition of martial law in Mindanao.
Gabriela was set to hold a regional assembly in May 2017. But when martial law was
declared that month, all sorts of problems emerged. Women had difficulty leaving their
communities; travel was impeded by numerous roadblocks and constant demands to
show identification cards. As a result, the assembly had to start three days late.
Over the next months, members reported being continually harassed. An indigenous
leader from Lake Sebu was killed in December 2017, triggering the evacuation of the
entire community who initially sought refuge at the Crisis Center.
Gabriela’s own operations were undermined. A training in 2018 was jeopardized
because the Crisis Center was under surveillance. Gabriela’s leaders faced trumped up
charges and were branded enemies of the state. In such a volatile environment, it was
hard to bring members together for meetings.
Around 45 minutes away from the center of General Santos City is barangay (village)
Mabuhay. Most residents are corn-growing tenants or seasonal agricultural workers
in the banana, pineapple, and corn plantations in South Cotabato. Here, Gabriela had
many members among the women. In early 2018, they devised a way to go around the
restrictions to holding meetings: they organized the Mabuhay Agricultural Workers and
Farmers Association (MAWFA).
The primary economic activity of MAWFA is producing livestock feeds using ‘reject’
bananas from nearby plantations, an idea they picked up from other groups in Gensan.
In banana-exporting countries such as the Philippines, bananas that do not meet the
standard size and quality for export are rejected. These “rejects” constitute a good
source of potassium, vitamins, and carbohydrate for livestock.
Making the feeds is a laborious process. The cooperative has to rent a truck and
purchase bananas from the plantations’ packing plants. Coop members then manually
slice the bananas and dry these under the sun for several days. When fully dehydrated,
the bananas are ground into feeds. For the last step, the coop availed of assistance
from the Department of Agriculture to acquire two chipping and grinding machines.
“We need to plan and work together in order to complete the tasks. The process
will not be completed without coordination and cooperation,” said Gina, one of the
members.
Gabriela women initiated MAWFA and continue to hold all leadership positions.
However, membership is not restricted to Gabriela. Some of their husbands have
joined the cooperative. Non-Gabriela women also signed up, attracted by the
opportunity to augment their income.

The wide front yard of the Gabriela Crisis Center and the surrounding vacant lots
have now become MAWFA’s processing and production area. This was a deliberate
gesture to disprove the military’s claim that the center was being used by groups
plotting to overthrow the government. Likewise, MAWFA hopes that the very fact it
received technical machinery from the Department of Agriculture would bolster its
legitimacy, that it was genuinely engaged in livelihood activities. “By this, we can assert
that we are not state enemies as claimed by the president and the military,” added
Myra, another member of MAWFA.
SOCCSKSARGEN is the commonly-used acronym for Region XII, which consists of the provinces
of South Cotabato, Cotabato, Sultan Kudarat, and Sarangani and General Santos City.
On the side, however, coming together for livestock feeds processing enabled the
women to continue meeting as Gabriela. Whenever they meet to chop and dry the
bananas, they also discuss issues such as violence against women or plan for their next
campaigns. In between production activities, the Gabriela Gensan chapter gives basic
women’s orientation seminars to the new members who are encouraged though not
required to join Gabriela. MAWFA also made it clear that whenever members attend
protest rallies, they are representing Gabriela, not the cooperative.
Challenges continue. When drought struck Mindanao in 2019 as a result of the El Niño
phenomenon, agricultural production dropped, and the cooperative had difficulty
acquiring a steady supply of reject bananas. Meanwhile, political attacks persist under
martial law. Gabriela members are still pilloried by the military for participating in
rallies. But as demonstrated by MAWFA, the Gabriela women would not be deterred.
Their success is not just in providing alternative livelihood but also alternative avenue
for women to gather together.
In the face of political persecution, MAWFA stands out as a defiant symbol of protest
and solidarity. It is a promise that the women would always find ways to organize.

You can’t really blame Nenita for lamenting the cards that
life had dealt her: she was blind in one eye, widowed very
young, earning barely enough from her little store, with no one
to help support her daughter Samae, who is still in school.
Nenita Labrador, or Nanay (mother) Nita as neighbors call
her, lives in the rural village of Borabod in Daet, Camarines
Norte. As a child, she had a fever and was brought to a witch
doctor who blew ginger into her eyes. One eye got infected and
shortly after, she lost her sight. Self-conscious, she became
even more shy and filled with insecurities. Although she studied
Commerce in college, she lacked the confidence to go out and
apply for jobs, especially after many experiences of bullying by
other children and discrimination by peers. Nanay Nita’s life
turned around when she met her husband, but he left her a
widow at 39, before they even had a chance to start a family.
A few years later, Nanay Nita adopted Samae, who has since
been her solace and a daily companion in her lonely life.
After her husband died, she continued to receive the pension
from his government job, but this was never enough: 1,500
pesos a month doesn’t go very far. During emergencies, she
applied for loans from micro-finance institutions in Daet. At 61
years old, she didn’t think she had many more options in life.
Until recently, she was content to get three full meals each day;
to aspire for more seemed too ambitious, even foolish.
NANAY NITA AND INCLUSIVE
FINANCIAL SERVICES

Nanay Nita’s quandary is very common in Borabod, where most residents are coconut
and pineapple farmers. Others sell food products or put up small retail stores like
Nanay Nita’s. Their income is invariably low, and they are unable to grow their
businesses – they are precisely the kind of community targeted by CANOFECO and
supported by Trias Southeast Asia.
Trias works in partnership with the Camarines Norte Federation of Cooperatives
(CANOFECO), which has a membership of 60 primary cooperatives throughout the
province. Its member coops in Borabo dare the Basud Development Cooperative and
Nagkaisang Samahan Tungo sa Kaunlaran (United Association for Development).
In April 2018, Trias brought in the expertise of another international NGO called We
Effect to support CANOFECO in conducting an orientation on Village Savings and Loan
Association (VSLA) with the theme “Savings as an Investment”. CANOFECO identified
Borabod as a target community because of its high incidence of poverty. This was in
line with the inclusivity integrated in the program supported by Trias.
VSLA does not require prior membership in any cooperative. Members save together
(for example, 20 pesos each a day) and take small loans from those savings. Savings
groups have proven to be one of the most effective, low-cost mechanisms to provide
basic financial services to the poor, especially women and persons with disabilities.
Members also learn simple financial management skills such as cash recording and
budgeting. The VSLA serves as a social asset where members can get support beyond
finances. It is also an entry point of members to become mainstreamed into formal
organizations such as cooperatives.
Follow up work by CANOFECO resulted in the establishment of the Barangay Borabod
Women and Farmers Group. Forty-two residents signed up, majority of them women,
and one was Nanay Nita.
The members concede the value of VSLA in teaching them the importance of savings
and the careful use of credit. Before joining the VSLA, Nanay Nita did not think about
saving money for future needs. Instead, she just relied on borrowing money whenever
she needed funds. Now that she had to be disciplined in setting aside a fixed amount
for the VSLA’s savings program, Nanay Nita had a modest sum she could claim
whenever she needed money for Samae’s school uniform and miscellaneous school
fees. At the same time, she was able to access loans from the VSLA, for example, to
increase the stock of goods in her sari-sari store.
Even more than the economic benefits, Nanay Nita appreciates the VSLA’s allowing
members to make joint decisions on policies (e.g., how much is the loanable amount
and interest rate for those who want to borrow money, how the income generated by
the VSLA will be used, even the time and day of their regular meetings). Quite often,
organizations are dominated by leaders, but here, Nanay Nita feels everyone is heard
and their opinions and needs acknowledged, which makes for lively exchanges among
members.
Nanay Nita’s membership in the VSLA has also boosted her self-confidence. Her fellow
members describe her as initially shy, but today she actively participates in discussions
and does not hold back from asking questions. Although they encouraged her to take
on a leadership position in the VSLA, she demurred, saying she is not yet ready and
prefers to just be an ordinary member for the moment. But the very fact that they
asked her greatly encourages Nanay Nita, who previously thought that people would
immediately believe her disability disqualifies her from such a role.
Just one year into the VSLA, Nanay Nita has developed a much more positive
outlook. Shehasabandonedherideathatit’senoughtohavethreemealsaday–sheand
Samae can do much better than just that, she says. The VSLA has given her a new lease
in life.

Her sentiments are shared by other VSLA members. The VSLA does not just meet
economic needs through provision of savings and credit facilities customized to the
needs of its members. It also addresses their social needs by empowering them to
make collective decisions.
The VSLA has proven to be an effective measure for providing opportunities to
marginalized people in the community. As a widow and a person with a disability,
Nanay Nita is more disadvantaged than the typical rural woman. The VSLA’s success
demonstrated to Trias partners the need to be more deliberate in identifying those
who are vulnerable to exclusion in the community, and to design programs that
adequately address multiple barriers to inclusion. Only when their services are
accessible to those who need these most can they claim to be truly inclusive.
Ever since Trias introduced to them the concept of VSLA, CANOFECO has organized
seven VSLAs in the province, with a total membership of 218: 156 women, and 50
youth. Every week they diligently bring their savings to the group. The total savings
generated by the seven VSLAs now stands at P399,320, with earned interest income of
P 46,657. To others, these may be just small amounts. But to the VSLA members, they
are engaging with the power of possibilities.

Noime proudly shows her sewn products for the day
If she gets a job, who will look after the small children at home?
If she doesn’t get a job, how can her family live solely on her
husband’s meager income? But what kind of job could she
find anyway, when she doesn’t have any qualifications?
Noime mulled over the questions over and over again, but
simply couldn’t find a way out of her dilemma. This conundrum
is also faced by countless women in the Philippines.
In Filipino families, child-rearing and housework are typically
viewed as the purview of the wife and mother. The Department
of Labor and Employment reports that 31 percent of working
age women claim family duties prevent them from working
outside the house. Those who work outside the house are still
expected to carry most of the household load.
With five children to raise, Noime had her hands full. She was
unable to look for a job because she would then be forced
to leave her children at home unattended. The problem was
compounded by her lack of marketable skills. Noime had left
school early, when her parents asked her to stop and give way to
her brothers. “For someone like me, opportunities are limited.
Occasionally, I wash my neighbors’ clothes for a small fee. But
this is not regular,” she said.
NOIME JOINS
THE LABOR FORCE

Four of their children were in school, and the bills were accumulating. Her husband’s
income did not suffice. Not surprisingly, the pressure triggered many arguments. “My
husband was frustrated that I kept asking for money. He complained that all I want
from him is money.” It was ironic that he worked as a waiter in a restaurant, yet the
family didn’t know where their next meal would come from. Noime was perennially
wracked with worry. She was only 35 years old, but already she felt the weight of the
world on her shoulders.
Fortunately, the family qualified for the 4Ps, the conditional cash transfer program
managed by the Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD). Through
DSWD, she also heard about Virlanie Foundation, whose iLEAD Open Day Center for
Education and Training (iLead ODC-ET) conducts livelihood skills training for
mothersandyoungwomen. Womencanchoosefromamongtrainingcoursesonbaking,
cooking, sewing, and beauty care. After completing the training, they can avail of
interest-free loans to set up their own business. Extensive training on financial
literacy – budgeting, bookkeeping, cash flow and savings management – and
marketing are also provided to help them build their business and manage finances.
Graduates can also earn by producing items for Likhaya, Virlanie’s social enterprise,
which specializes in bags and costume jewelry crafted by community-based mothers.
The iLead ODC-ET program targets urban poor communities. In these densely
populated areas, poverty is intense and violence distressingly familiar. Children are
highly vulnerable and in need of social protection. Although Virlanie’s primary work is
with children, wider challenges meant it needed to take on a more inclusive approach
that involved strengthening the family, particularly the mothers, to prevent abuse
and neglect of children and youth. Ultimately, Virlanie saw its program as building
sustainable communities.
Noime signed up for the sewing training. Aside from the opportunity to learn a new
skill, what drew her to iLEAD was that her children could avail of educational activities
in the same building while she attended the training. This was a carefully considered
innovation by Virlanie. In the past, many mothers declined their invitation, saying
they were “not allowed” by husbands who feared they would neglect their kids. Here,
children of iLEAD trainees are offered kindergarten, tutorial services, and a comfortable
space to read stories. Even healthy meals were provided free of charge. All these
relieved mothers of their child-caring duties, while also benefiting their children’s early
learning development. Tutorial sessions boosted the children’s academic performance
and self-esteem. Many mothers happily reported improvements in their children’s
performance in school.
Noime is joined by other mother beneficiaries

The training on sewing took two full days, twice a week, over three months. Used to
manual sewing, Noime initially had difficulty learning how to use a sewing machine.
“I was definitely not the best student,” she now laughs at the memory. What kept
her going was the realization that she was learning not just a trade but also practical
skills that could benefit her family. For example, she could sew or repair her children’s
school bags and clothes.
After completing the training, Noime was employed by Likhaya Virlanie at their center
in Quiapo, Manila, where she sewed various kinds of bags. Likhaya promotes recycling,
so they fashion bags made from retaso (scrap cloth) donated by partner organizations.
Even the jewelry and fashion accessories were made from colorful pages of magazines
that would otherwise have been discarded. For Virlanie, it was not enough to just be
socially responsible; their products should also be environmentally friendly.
Earning money, not anymore entirely dependent on her husband gave Noime a sense
of freedom, joy, and fulfillment. Her self-confidence increased, and her sense of
creativity grew as she made beautiful bags that were sold by Likhaya online and at
the occasional pop up shop. Many companies also ordered bags from Likhaya as their
corporate giveaways.
In 2019, Virlanie’s iLead ODC-ET, including sewing machines, moved to a different city
at the other end of the metropolis. Noime wanted to continue using her newfound
sewing skills – now that she was contributing to the family income, there was no
turning back. She decided to borrow 14,000 pesos from iLead ODC-ET’s
microcredit facility to purchase a sewing machine and raw materials. Today, she
continues to make bags from home. The lessons learned from iLead ODC-ET’s training
courses on micro-entrepreneurship are finally being put to use. Every week, she sets
aside a small amount, which is then claimed by a Virlanie collector assigned to her
community. The loan is interest-free, but Virlanie asks for an additional 100 pesos a
month. After the loan is paid in full, the surcharge will be given back to Noime.
Noime’s sewing business is slowly thriving, and the added income has helped meet her
family’s essential needs. Now that she is earning money, Noime sees herself as fully
equal to her husband. She walks with a new bounce in her step, filled with hope for
the future.
Noime’s changed fortunes are a testament to Virlanie, which believes in the
abilities and opportunities women can seize though proper training, guidance, and
empowerment.
Noime, teary-eyed, as she talks about her life story

“There was a time when barangay (village) officials would
refer battered wives to Gabriela. We had to explain that actually,
under the provisions of Republic Act 9262, they were the ones
responsible for arresting perpetrators and serving a barangay
protection order that compels the man to leave the house and
stay away from the entire family for up to 15 days.”
This account by acting Gabriela Philippines chairperson
Gert Ranjo-Libang demonstrates the need for officials at all
levels of government to be familiar with provisions of the
Anti-Violence Against Women and Children Act of 2004. It is also a
remarkable indication of widespread public perception of
Gabriela as the country’s leading organization for the promotion
and protection of women’s rights. Even today, media will often
immediately clamor for Gabriela’s response whenever there is an
incident involving violence against women(VAW).
Some of Gabriela’s most effective anti-VAW campaigns have
been developed in partnership with professional agencies.
PARTNERSHIPS FOR INNOVATIVE
ANTI-VAW CAMPAIGNS

One of these is DM9 Jayme Syfu, an advertising agency that Gabriela has
collaborated with for more than ten years. In 2008, for example, DM9 produced the
award-winning advertisement, “Every Hour a Woman is Abused.” Four years later, DM9
producedGabriela’svideoofthe“Self-defenseDance”whichcombinedaikido(Japanese
martial arts) with dance movements, released in time for the One Billion Rising global
campaign. The dance became so popular it was even introduced as the children’s
morning exercise in 85 schools and adapted in other countries. That same year,
Gabriela and DM9 collaborated on the “Bury the Past” campaign, which encouraged
everyone to add the word “scandal” to their names on Facebook. This simple act
resulted in a deluge of “scandals” online, thus burying the actual sex scandals in more
than 30 pages of search results –a patent relief for victims of electronic violence against
women. The “Skip” campaign in 2015, which encouraged the most prominent Filipino
bloggers to repost a forceful video on domestic violence, was just as successful. “The
more you ignore domestic violence, the worse it gets,” the video declared. What was
exciting about Dentsu Jayme Syfu materials is that these highlighted creative use of the
internet and social media, which multiplied the scope of Gabriela’s campaigns.
The latest collaboration between Gabriela and Dentsu Jayme Syfu produced Gabbie,
a chatbot or computer program that simulates human conversations. This was the first
time a chatbot was used in the Philippines. Anyone can write to Gabbie by Gabriela on
Facebook Messenger about their experiences of sexual harassment. Gabbie responds
immediately with information about their rights under the law, and compiles the
details shared into a complete form. The writer then has the option of printing this for
their own use and/or forwarding it to Gabriela by e-mail as a formal report. Gabbie
also provides Gabriela’s contact details, in case the writer wants to deal with them
directly. Gabbie made headline news in Philippine media when it was launched on
November25,2017,InternationalDayfortheEliminationofVAW. BecauseofGabbie,the
Dentsu Jayme Syfu campaign was fittingly honored for public service and activism at The
Webby Awards.
In just over a year, Gabriela had already received 200 emails from the Gabbie chatbot.
The Gabriela Network of Professionals (GNet), composed of volunteer psychiatrists,
psychologists, and lawyers, has taken over responsibility for responding to the stream
of e-mails.
With Facebook as the most popular messaging app in the Philippines – Facebook users
reportedly number anywhere from 43 to 78 million – Gabbie is a practical and
accessible tool for educating Filipinos on how to deal with sexual harassment and
assault.
For Joms Salvador, Gabriela Secretary General, “Gabbie has a lot of potential in further
expanding our services to victims of sexual harassment and in educating the public
about women’s rights. We are hopeful that through Gabbie, we can reach out more
to young women, who are statistically the segment of the female population more
vulnerable to sexual harassment, and more exposed to digital media.”
For now, Gabbie responds only in English, and so one plan is to make the chatbot reach
a larger audience by making it multilingual. Gabriela also intends to promote Gabbie
among overseas Filipino workers who may be experiencing sexual harassment but have
no one nearby to turn to.
Concerns about the privacy and safety of its users have been raised. Gabbie complies
with the country’s Data Privacy Act and makes every effort to protect the information
provided by its users. However, Gabbie is dependent on the digital infrastructure of
the Facebook Messenger app and Facebook’s overall data storage and management
practices, which have come into question recently. Gabriela is seeking stronger and
more secure ways on how best to protect the privacy of its users, while maximizing
the platform’s popularity and reach.

Among those who took note of Gabbie chatbot was Tony Moly, a Korean cosmetics
company which was inspired to contribute to the anti-VAW campaign and thus
contacted Gabriela. Their joint campaign was called #SpeakUp. It sought to erase
the stigma that victims endure as a result of rape, harassment, and molestation.
#SpeakUp also encouraged victims to speak out, seek help, and find comfort and
strength in the stories of fellow survivors.
Tony Moly and Gabriela collaborated in producing posters of prominent women – and a
few men – in the world of politics and entertainment, along with rights advocates and
survivors of sexual harassment. Each poster contained a powerful quote addressed
to victims as well as the general public. The campaign was set for March 2018, March
having been designated National Women’s Month in the Philippines. These posters
were put up in Tony Moly stores all over the country. It was a striking moment: for an
anti-VAW campaign to actually take place inside malls is about as mainstream as you
can get in the Philippines. The posters also went up in all social media accounts of Tony
Moly and Gabriela. In addition, Tony Moly committed to donate a percentage of their
sales that month to Gabriela’s programs assisting VAW victims.
A third partner in the campaign was the Philippine Daily Inquirer, the country’s
leading newspaper, which featured #SpeakUp in its editorial. The Inquirer also
published two articles on sexual harassment in the entertainment industry, with
direct quotes by actresses and models – a local version of #MeToo in Hollywood. These
interviews sparked discussions and debates online, with many praising the bravery of
those who shared their experiences and inner struggles.
Gabriela’s campaign did not say only “Speak up”. An equally prominent message was
“We are here to listen”. After all, the most effective campaigns are not time-bound;
they are continuing conversations.
Renamed Dentsu Jayme Syfu in 2015

For sheer drama, the Sumilao farmers’ struggle for land rights has no
equal. It has all the elements of a telenovela.
On one side were 137 landless farmers, descendents of Higaonon
indigenous people, who wanted to reclaim 144 hectares in Sumilao,
Bukidnon that their ancestors had lost to settlers in the 1940s. On the
other side was a powerful adversary: a wealthy family with diverse
businesses and political connections. Twice, the government ruled
to grant ownership of the land to the farmers; twice, the order was
revoked. One farmer committed suicide; another farmer was gunned
down. Later, the landowner sold the land to San Miguel Corporation
(SMC), one of the country’s largest business conglomerates.
The farmers, now organized as the Mapadayonong Panaghiusa sa
mga Lumad Alang sa Damlag (Sustained Unity of Indigenous People
for the Future, MAPALAD), tried everything to swing justice and public
opinion in their favor: land occupation, two hunger strikes, camping
outside the gates of the Department of Agrarian Reform (DAR) and
Supreme Court, in addition to the daily drudgery of following up their
appeals to government agencies.
SHIFTING GEARS
THE RISE OF WOMEN LEADERS IN SUMILAO

In 2007, just a year before the agrarian reform program was due to lapse, the
farmers prepared to step up their fight. Fifty-five farmers, a third of them women,
walked 1,700 kilometers from Sumilao to Manila, calling for justice. Throughout
the two-month journey, they were joined by supporters, and their campaign drew
extensive media coverage.
With the mediation of the Catholic church, the farmers and SMC signed a settlement
agreement in 2008; the farmers would get 50 hectares from the SMC estate in San
Vicente village. After two more years of negotiation and sustained campaigns, the
farmers claimed an additional 94 hectares spread across three other villages. But there
was a small hitch. According to the farmers, SMC was so piqued it refused to give
the land to MAPALAD nor to the San Vicente Landless Farmers Association (SALFA),
composed of the farmers’ children. Thus, the MAPALAD and SALFA members
established the Panaw Sumilao Multi-Purpose Cooperative. Panaw is the local word for
walk, and their name honors the memory of that long march.
The first 50 hectares were divided among Panaw’s 153 members, each receiving ¼ of
a hectare to build a house and establish a family farm. The remaining 94 hectares are
managed by the cooperative and currently planted to corn and cassava.
Now that they owned the land, Panaw faced another challenge: to shift gears from
advocacy campaigns to sustainable agriculture and managing a cooperative. Over
the years, the farmers had drawn loyal support from legal aid organizations, farmers’
networks, NGOs, the church, and student groups, who now pledged to assist in
building Panaw’s capability. To coordinate their efforts, the Pambansang Kilusan ng
mga Samahang Magsasaka (National Movement of Farmers Organizations, PAKISAMA)
served as their secretariat. MAPALAD and Panaw were also members of PAKISAMA.
The support organizations helped facilitate strategic and annual planning for Panaw.
Capability building was undertaken through a series of leadership and management
training courses. These were coupled with learning visits, e.g., to another PAKISAMA
member organization to observe good practices in financial management. Panaw’s
leaders received constant mentoring and coaching. Members who displayed potential,
Sumilao women march

for example, on bookkeeping, were invited to various training courses and even
offered scholarships to go to college. PAKISAMA also facilitated the deployment of
several volunteers under the Jesuit Volunteers Program who worked on-site for at least
a year, helping with projects and activities identified as Panaw’s priorities. Likewise,
agriculture was on top of the agenda, with PAKISAMA providing training on integrated,
diversified, and organic farming systems. The Department of Agrarian Reform provided
training on enterprise development and facilitated simulation games for young
farmers to understand the importance of a cooperative and its operations.
The Cooperative Development Authority ran another training on co-op management.
One of the most significant decisions made by Panaw was to hand over the leadership
to the younger generation. Another significant decision was to ensure greater
participation of women, not just in daily activities of the cooperative, but also in its
management. This proposal came from the late Rene Penas, a MAPALAD leader who,
as PAKISAMA’s vice-chairperson, was familiar with its policy requiring at least 30%
of leadership positions to be allocated to women. Panaw adopted this policy and
ensured that opportunities for training courses were equally shared by male and
female members.
Since 2013, Panaw has been headed by a female chairperson of the board.
Cheril Lorenza was only 33 years old when she was elected chair, but in many ways
she was already a veteran. As a teen, she saw her parents and uncles attempt to
occupy the land, only to be driven away by armed security guards. When the Supreme
Court reversed the decision awarding the land to them, Cheril joined the farmers in
barricading the national highway in protest. Such was her resolve that she joined the
walk to Manila, even when the soles of her feet were so pocked with blisters “they
looked like a map of the Philippines”. But when she was elected chair, she admitted to
crying. She had finished only third year high school, Cheril said, and she was unsure
she was up to the challenge.
One of Cheril’s mentors was former PAKISAMA Mindanao area manager Mavic
Hilario, who recalls Cheril was initially quiet, “but you could really see her interest and
passion and sincerity.” PAKISAMA invited Cheril to their satellite office in the provincial
capital and made sure that she was constantly supported. At a time when finance
management was Panaw’s priority, Cheril quickly grasped the importance of
financial discipline, for exam-
ple, sticking to their budget.
Mavic has seen Cheril grow in
confidence and skill. Today’s Cheril’s
leadership abilities are not confined
to Panaw alone. She was appointed
head of the village Agriculture
and Fisheries Council, able to
confidently engage with the town
mayor and speak before the public.
After Cheril had served three terms,
the Panaw General Assembly
chose another woman to head the
board. Like Cheril, Bajekjek Adirem-
Orquillas was only 33 when elected
chairperson. Bajek was the
youngest farmer to join the march to
Manilain2007,wheresheimpressed
the group by being articulate when
engaging with the media and asserting herself during dialogues with DAR. As
chairperson, Bajek credits PAKISAMA for helping facilitate planning and assessment
meetings and for consistently reinforcing the principles of good governance in the
cooperative. Today, four of seven members of the Panaw board are women.
Capability building also extended to Panaw’s women members. Gender and
women’s rights training are periodically conducted, in addition to technical courses on
sustainable agriculture. Cheril attests that women today are more conscious of their
self-worth, more assertive about what they want. They are also more confident in
sharing decisions on farm management. “It’s very different from our parents’ time
when it was just my father who decided on farm matters,” Bajek said.
Women also have livelihood projects to augment their income. MAPALAD women
produce Sumilao Corn Brew, sold in attractive 200 gram packs, made from
organically grown corn in their fields. Meanwhile, the Panaw women have a beads
project, fashioning bracelets and necklaces.
sumilao corn coffee

When Panaw’s history will be written, it will not be judged only in terms of how much
income the cooperative has earned for its members. It will also be honored for how it
supported the rise of women leaders.
When asked why it was important to develop women leaders, Bajek paused, as if
momentarily puzzled by the question. And it is an absurd question. “Because women
can do anything men can,” Bajek declared.
Sumilao women march

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