A New Year’s Stroll
A Statue and a Circus
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If you have a camera, what will you take a picture of?
That was the question asked, and most of them never really had an experience in using a camera, or even holding one. But they have their stories to tell. Stories that has long been forgotten or ignored by the outside modern world.
This month, I had the privilege of speaking about photography and story telling to a group of indigenous brothers and sisters from different tribes in Mindanao. The Lumads are great story tellers, their stories about their lives, adventures, happiness and despair has been passed on to generations through any means they can. From songs to dances to oral traditions, they continue to make sure that these stories are forever carved in memories.
Modern development and corporate greed has been slowly and systematically eating away their ancestral domains, and so does their way of life. Thousands has been already killed because of widespread carnage of the mountains by us, the modern man. The Lumads are always one of the first casualties, and they want us to listen to what they are saying.
On a piece of paper, I asked them to draw a picture of what they want to take a picture of. Here are their answers:
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Here’s a link of another project with the Lumads that I am currently working on.
Remembering Victims of Sendong
Testament #3
Higaonon tribe women leader Bae Adelfa Belayong, 47, lost a daughter, husband and brother because they refused to give up their land and community to mining. In 2005, the government, through the National Commission on Indigenous People (NCIP) asked them to sign a contract that would pave the way for foreign mining companies to get hold of their resource rich ancestral land. The NCIP claims that the land belongs to the government and they should not resist the signing of the contract. But aware of the harm that the mining operation and the alleged ‘development’ would do to their community and their families, they insisted “This land is our ancestral land, and this land is ours long before you established that government of yours. Where do we farm if we give our lands to you?” During that time, government troops in large numbers began to operate in their area in Agusan de Sur. Many of the young males in their tribe were forced to join the paramilitary or face harsh consequences. Her husband, Datu Maampagi, was tagged as a rotten tomato by the military and was among those killed. Bayi Adelfa still laments the pain of how her four year old child was decapitated after being shot by paramilitaries on the neck while she carried her child on her back.
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Testaments to the culture of impunity in the Philippines. Here are the mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters, whose lives were shaken and who continue to bear the pain of the wounds of human rights violations by the state in a society where impunity reigns and perpetrators roam free.
Testament #2
Manobo tribal leader Genasque Enriquez. Their resource-rich 59 thousand hectare ancestral land in Surigao del Sur is under heavy militarization as foreign mining companies set up extraction of minerals in their domain.
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Testaments to the culture of impunity in the Philippines. Here are the mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters, whose lives were shaken and who continue to bear the pain of the wounds of human rights violations by the state in a society where impunity reigns and perpetrators roam free.