Reclaiming the Land

Testimonies from a Community in Struggle in the Philippine Countryside
Landscape view of green sugarcane fields and mountains in the Philippines.

ARGENE

I’m Argene Seron, I was born in Moises Padilla, Negros Occidental. My parents passed away when I was young, so my siblings and I were raised by my grandparents. I moved here to Bino in 1975, because my husband’s family lived here. That’s when I truly learned what hacienda living was, because it’s all hacienda here. No one here finds other means of living besides working on the hacienda. Day by day, you work on the hacienda. 

In the mid-90s, the Department of Agrarian Reform started a program: Taskforce Sugarland. PDG came around that time and their staff, including Attorney Ben, had talks here. They hosted a meeting for farmworkers in the hacienda to explain the program. That’s when we decided to join, in order to claim some land. The managers found out that there was a group of us who were going to join the program, so we were called into the office of the hacienda owner, Mrs. Stark, and we were told to withdraw our registrations with DAR because she would give us favors, benefits, and our children would be put through school for free at her expense. But we persisted. 

 

It got to a point where she gave us a memorandum that we would not be allowed to work because we were supposedly “opposing” her by joining the government’s CARP program. So upon the advice of a lawyer, we filed a case of illegal dismissal. This was on top of the land claim that we were filing through the DAR.  So while our case was being processed with the Department of Labor and our land claim was being processed through DAR, we were just trying to make a living. And we were seeking work in places really far away, because they were telling people nearby not to give us work! So we would leave here in the morning and come home late, because it was so far, you see. There’s a place across from Kamansil, a tall mountainous area, Gutosan was the name. We would say, “With a 10 peso fare, you get close to heaven,” because it was so far up in the mountain. But we really had to persevere because they wouldn’t let us find work nearby. Eventually, our husbands found jobs moving sand and gravel onto trucks, as far away as La Castellana.
A series of bio-matter, namely thin plants, are arranged and scanned against a sepia-toned background. These backgrounds faintly portray various archival photographs.
Our case took a long time. It went from NLRC Bacolod up until it reached the Court of Appeals in Cebu, it was a lengthy months-long process. DAR itself was being swayed not to process our case. So we had to keep pressuring DAR, because our situation was dire, we had nowhere to work, we couldn’t buy food because we were being barred from working. In the end, Mrs. Stark was ordered to reinstate us to work again in the hacienda. But she just acted as if nothing had happened. So we picketed and rallied in front of Capitolville in Bacolod, right beside La Salle University. 

Some of us leaders even went to Manila to campaign and hold a rally at Landbank in Makati, so that they would put out the land valuation that was needed for our land case. We had joint mass actions targeting the Department of Labor and DAR. While we were in Manila rallying, there was an NGO connected with PDG who looked after us and helped us with our daily needs. Attorney Ben Ramos was there as well. And there were so many people’s organizations that went to support us, from Calabarzon and Calamba, Luzon. There were also many people’s organizations from Negros supporting us, from La Castellana, from Kabankalan. Because of all the pressure, Landbank finally released the land valuation within two days. 

When we won our claim to the land, we made everything communal. The earnings from our harvest would go towards our collective expenses, and whatever was left we would divide among us beneficiaries. But eventually, some people in the group requested, “Maybe we could each get a small farmland of our own, so we can manage it ourselves?” So now we have small individual plots, about 2 hectares each. But we still also have a communal farm. And the earnings from the communal farm go towards strengthening our struggle, like when we have to spend for transport to go to rallies or to support farmers in other areas. We get to know a lot of people across barangays, across different municipalities, wherever there are other groups that we can exchange with. I really enjoy working with fellow farmworkers, sharing our experiences, so that they can also learn about their rights and how they could possibly claim land to farm so they can gain control over their own livelihoods. We celebrate whenever there are successes in other areas. 

What we’re doing now is standing strong to defend our rights and our livelihood. Because of this, the military keeps on slandering us. Just recently, there was a fellow in another area, he was separated from his companions and brought in for questioning. They showed him pictures and asked, “Do you know this person? Or this person? How about this person?” Of course he knew those of us in the pictures. All of the people’s organizations around here, we hold collective gatherings with representatives from each organization. We know that our problems are connected and that we need to help each other. They showed him photographs of us leaders, folks from different areas, as well as staff of PDG. All of our actions are being monitored. Every movement, down to the month, day, and hour, it’s there in the hands of the military. So now we have to be vigilant. We’re in a situation now where it’s like we’re criminals, yet we haven’t committed any crimes. Still, we continue to struggle. Before we thought that once we had won the land, we would be able to live our lives in peace. But now, we’re being chased by the military, it’s like our lives are on the line. There were three of us women leaders here before, they called us the Tres Malditas. But now one of us is resting because of her health, so it’s just me and Nancy who continue on.

My greatest dream is that those who don’t have land will one day have access to land and that genuine agrarian reform will be implemented. And that people will not be displaced from the land they already live on. Not just here but in the whole of the Philippines. Also of course, I dream that there will be no military chasing after us, so that we can live peacefully on our own land, without displacement. But now, we have these problems, like a private company, Procton Developer, who is trying to take this land to develop it, which is making this dream harder to reach. But we continue on, together as a group. We continue to struggle. 

A still from a film by Enzo Camacho and Ami Lien. There are a small group of children running through lush green plants, presumable sugar cane plants.

Nancy

I am Nancy Vingno, from Sitio Bino, Barangay Urong in Kabankalan City. I was born and raised in this community. My parents worked on Mrs. Stark’s hacienda. Unfortunately, they passed away while my siblings and I were still small, and since I was the eldest, I was the one who took over the responsibilities. I stopped school. I was only able to reach second-year high school. My father had been one of the head workers at the hacienda, so I took over his job. Out of my siblings, only two of them got to finish school. The others didn’t continue, just like me, because of the financial situation. No one would spend for us, for our schooling, and so we ended up just working here on the hacienda of Mrs. Stark. 

We found out about the Taskforce Sugarland program, where they would redistribute swaths of sugar land as part of the Comprehensive Agrarian Reform Program. At that time, Mrs. Stark was still a congresswoman. PDG came and they were the ones who informed us that we had an opportunity to claim land through the program. They were giving us lessons to understand the process. When Mrs. Stark found out about it, she threatened to take away our work. But we didn’t stop. We kept going with PDG, because they made us understand that, even if we are just workers, we have the chance to be owners of some land. On our part, we saw that the situation here of working on the hacienda was not really livable, the wage was so small, we couldn’t even support the children finishing school. So we continued with PDG, even when Mrs. Stark was threatening us. It reached a point when our work was actually taken away. That was when the manager told us, “I’m sorry but starting now, you can’t work.” He showed us the memorandum from Mrs. Stark and I asked to borrow it to show my companions. It was written in English, but from what I understood, it said, “For all laborers in Hacienda Bino who are joining the program of CARP, I will cease your work.” Without her knowing it, we had the memorandum photocopied and processed a case. We raised a case of illegal dismissal with the Department of Labor. 

 

The period after that was really difficult. We would try to find work elsewhere but when she would hear that we were working at another hacienda, she would have her manager go there and tell them, “Don’t let these people work here or else they’ll try to take your land.” So we would always be let go. Some men found work by the river, in quarries, anything to make money to buy food. But even if it was difficult, it was okay for us; it’s the choice we made in order to try to claim land. PDG continued teaching us: skills training, capability building, and so on. We have deep gratitude for PDG because they understood our rights as workers and taught us that we also have the right to own and look after land. But we really went through huge difficulties. 

 

We were finally awarded the land in 1998. And we could see the difference. When we were working for Mrs. Stark, we would have to wake up early and work from 6 a.m. until 10 a.m., and then again from around noon or 1 p.m. up to 4 p.m., every day. But after the land was given to us in 1998, it was us cultivating the land ourselves. We could manage our days, our hours, our time. We didn’t have a master managing us. But there were still challenges because we didn’t have capital, we didn’t have money to spend for cultivating, so we would have to ask for community support. Also, there were so many legal cases raised against us from Mrs. Stark. Good thing that our lawyer was free. It was Attorney Ben who was helping us. And he didn’t help just us, there were other farmers in Kabankalan, others in Hinobaan, who he was helping as well. He was committed to helping the poor. 

A series of bio-matter, namely thin plants, are arranged and scanned against a sepia-toned background. These backgrounds faintly portray various archival photographs.
Until now the struggles haven’t stopped. Our big problem now is that there is a developer called Procton who wanted to develop a part of Mrs. Stark’s land that supposedly wasn’t part of our coverage, meaning it supposedly wasn’t included in our Certificates of Land Ownership. But we took a copy of their development plan to the City Development Planning office in Kabankalan City, along with our CLOA certificates, and after looking at everything, they told us that there was actually a part of our titled land that was included in the plan of Procton. So we demanded to have a public hearing where we invited all of the other people who would be affected by this development plan. Procton was completely surprised by how many people showed up! They thought it would just be our associations, but we told them, “Well, there are so many people who will be affected by your development plan, because they are all living on this land.” There was a lot of discussion until we asked the people of Procton directly if they had clearance to develop the land here. They responded, “Not yet, however it’s in process.” We told them, “Any land that is covered by our CLOA, don’t touch it because it’s our land and you have no business there.” So up until now Procton has been quiet, but it seems that they will try to push forward their plan. But at least, through this process, the people living in the affected area were able to understand what was happening and could express their feelings about it. They said, “If Procton develops this land, where will we live? This is where our homes are.” 
We have also been facing problems with the DAR agency itself. It’s ironic because we were only able to receive our land through the DAR program, so you would think that they would be the ones defending us as beneficiaries. But now, the situation is that DAR is the one giving us problems. Even though the land is now ours, we still face many risks because the agency of DAR keeps coming back, and they come with people from the army and the police. They come here and tell us that we should surrender because the way they see it: we’re rebels. Well, we join the rallies on Labor Day, on Human Rights Day, things like that. So they perceive us as rebels because they say we shouldn’t bring our problems to the streets, but should just bring them to the different government agencies. I say “Well, sir, we do go to DAR and it’s always the same. We schedule dialogues and yet the concerns we raise don’t get solutions.” When DAR would come with the army and police they would say it is to maintain peace and order, that they are there to protect us, that it is for our own security. But for us, we are just working for our families to eat, so we can provide for our daily needs, and we can see from our own experience that it is the state that is causing difficulties and threatening us. So now, those in our group, we look out for each other’s security. It’s up to us to take care of each other. We can do this in our location here because we are living in a tight community so it isn’t easy for malicious persons to penetrate. But we still face threats. We hear stories from different places, that their leaders are taken and killed and their bodies are dumped somewhere.
That’s what happened to Attorney Ben. Attorney Ben was there with us from the beginning. When we were facing cases, he would work with us pro bono, no fees. People would just bring him boiled cassava, or chicken, to give thanks, and he would be so happy. Sometimes he would accompany us to hearings in Bacolod City and he would drive the car so fast! He was a jolly person, you see, he wasn’t so serious all the time. And he helped so many farm workers. And these were critical cases, like for example in Hinoba-an, there was one area that was supposed to be developed into a shipyard and he was aiding the beneficiaries there who were defending the land against the development. There were many other cases too. Because of this, he was being accused by landlords of being a lawyer for the New People’s Army. We even saw his name appear on a tarpaulin accusing him of being involved in the NPA. That’s how it is, if you don’t yield to their power, you’re red-tagged. So that’s what happened to Attorney Ben. We were so shocked when we heard about what happened to him that night. It was like the sky fell down on us, as though the world imploded, that was how it felt when we heard the news. We went to the hospital and we saw his lifeless corpse. Our gut feeling was that this killing didn’t just happen out of nowhere, it had been planned for a long time. 

They thought that if they cut the tree, the fruits would die out—that’s where they were wrong. Even when they killed Attorney Ben, we didn’t give up. We didn’t rest, we continued the cause that he started. That’s what we’re doing now. Although Attorney Ben is no longer here, we will not stop. We continue to struggle, however we can, we defend ourselves and our rights. We won’t stop while we still have the strength to go on. That is the perspective of our group: Even though they killed Attorney Ben, they will not win. Why? Because we will continue what Attorney Ben started, and we will not waver.

A still from a film by Enzo Camacho and Ami Lien. There are a small group of children running through lush green plants, presumable sugar cane plants.

About the Artist

Enzo Camacho & Ami Lien

Enzo Camacho and Ami Lien are artists and writers from the Philippines and the US, respectively. Together, they have an artistic practice that moves from the Philippines outward to other places, addressing localized iterations of labor and capital from the perspective of imperial damage. They have had solo exhibitions at Kunstverein Freiburg (2018); and Hessel Museum of Art, Bard College, Annandale-on-Hudson (2018). Their work has been included in recent group exhibitions at Tai Kwun Contemporary, Hong Kong (2022); the 10th Asia Pacific Triennial, Queensland Art Gallery, Brisbane (2021); the 5th New Museum Triennial, New York (2021); the 39th EVA International, Limerick (2021); Manifesta 13, Marseille (2020); the Drawing Center, New York (2020); the Kuandu Museum of Fine Arts, Taipei (2019); the Brunei Gallery, SOAS University of London (2019); the NTU Center for Contemporary Art, Singapore (2018); UCCA Center for Contemporary Art, Beijing (2017); Jim Thompson Art Center, Bangkok (2017); and Green Papaya Art Projects, Manila (2009). From 2021 to 2023, Camacho and Lien were fellows at the Graduate School of the Universität der Kunste, Berlin.

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Credits

Enzo Camacho & Ami Lien: Langit Lupa (Heaven and Earth) was supported in part by the California Arts Council, a state agency. Learn more at www.arts.ca.gov.

The original interviews were translated into English by Raffy Bunal.

All accompanying images are by Enzo Camacho and Ami Lien.

Special thanks to Geli Arceño and Jay Baluno for assisting in the recording of the interviews and to PDG for helping to arrange the interviews.