PHILIPPINES: Negros Island and its people through my eyes (Part 1)
Danilo Reyes I am not a Negrense, a term that refers to the inhabitants of the island of Negros. I am a Filipino but have never been to Negros until recently. While I can speak Cebuano, the language spoken in the eastern part of the island, Negros Oriental; the Hiligaynon language spoken in the western part of the island, Negros Occidental, is a language I have little knowledge of.
I am not a Negrense, a
term that refers to the inhabitants of the island of Negros. I am a
Filipino but have never been to Negros until recently. While I can
speak Cebuano, the language spoken in the eastern part of the island,
Negros Oriental; the Hiligaynon language spoken in the western part of
the island, Negros Occidental, is a language I have little knowledge
of.
My ancestors were of Cebuano origin so I never had any roots with an Ilonggo tribe, whose language is Hiligaynon.
However,
they were the people I met on this trip. I tried to find connections
between the island, its people and myself during my short stay there,
but apart from the similarity of being a Filipino and being able to
speak Cebuano, I realised that I was not only a complete stranger to
the island but also to many of the Filipinos in my own country. I had
little idea of the place and its people.
Spending days talking
with and being in the company of the locals in Negros Occidental, I
realised my failure in not being been able to comprehend the depth of
their suffering and the origins of the conditions of extreme poverty
and oppression they have suffered for over half a century. My earlier
belief that I had a fairly good understanding of my country's context
had been shaken and challenged. I ended up spending much of my time
asking questions of myself, questioning my opinions and trying to find
the meaning of my own work and its potential impact on the lives of the
local people so that it might be more meaningful for them.
I
realised that my perception and understanding of what should happen in
a rule of law society had no bearing whatsoever on what the local
people experienced on a daily basis. This was my failing, not theirs
and I felt sorry for myself until I realised that the very least I
could contribute was to share my reflections as to how the local people
live their daily lives and what makes the sharp delineation and control
of the classes so entirely possible. It is, in fact, the elite who, for
over centuries have remained powerful in the island, who make this
delineation possible.
Poverty and oppression force the locals to migrate
I
have lived and spent most of my adult life in southern Mindanao, one of
the over 7,000 islands in the Philippines; however, I am a complete
stranger to Negros Island.
It was not until recently that I
have begun to realise the reasons why the people from the Negros Island
migrated to the southern part of Mindanao Island. My recent visit to
Negros strengthened the historical and anecdotal understanding that I
have.
For years now the island of Negros had been a place to
escape from. Many of those who left the island, including my wife's
father and his siblings, left Negros for Mindanao in the 60s and 70s,
because of the extreme poverty. In the years to come they settled in
Mindanao and now have their own families and communities.
Sugarcane
is the island's primary agricultural produce and Negros is a place
known for its vast plantations. It has been supplying sugar as far as
Europe and the Americas since the early 1900s when sugarcane production
was first introduced to the island. But it is also an island of
contrast where the class divide and social control is sharp and clear.
There is no pretense of humility on the part of the ruling classes.
One
of the reasons why my father-in-law and his neighbors left Negros, the
situation of extreme poverty, has not improved since the time they
left. Indeed, it was in existence for many years prior to their
departure. People growing up in Negros, particularly those in the
villages would rather migrate to other places than try to settle there.
What is amazing to me is how the people who chose to stay, manage to
survive.
The dreams of most children growing up in a village
would often be to either move to the island's so-called 'urban areas',
like the cities of Bacolod or Dumaguete, to find employment or migrate
further afield to places like Metro Manila for the same purpose.
Migration from the island is mostly for reasons of poverty, lack of
opportunity and with the mindset that perhaps migrating could get them
a better future. For the women there is the hope that they will be able
to marry a well-off person. Regardless, whether man or woman, the
ultimate purpose is getting off the island.
Some are lucky, but most are not.
To be continued.
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About AHRC: The Asian Human Rights Commission is a regional non-governmental organisation monitoring and lobbying human rights issues in Asia. The Hong Kong-based group was founded in 1984.

