UP scientists reportedly are peer-reviewing a contentious study on health risks of pesticide aerial spraying. Such review, a must in science research, has neutral experts prying into the methods, scope and other factors that led to a scholarly deduction. Out soon, the UP report will settle queries of harm to villages in Davao exposed to toxins used in fruit plantations. It can also refocus on facts, not fiction. Of late the issue has sunk to an emotional he said-she said. So stirred up are the protagonist NGOs and banana businessmen that they look bent on wiping out the other.
On one side are Interface Development Interventions Inc., Kalusugan Alang sa Bayan, and Mamamayan Ayaw sa Aerial Spray. In 2006 field men had spread out to Davao, gathering proof of aerial spraying’s health ruin. Three cases stood out. Banana worker Felixberto Batuhan had gone blind, and plantation-side resident Flor Watin suffered skin disease. Both often were exposed to fungicide spraying. Most disturbing was Rebecca Dulla of Sitio Camocaan, Hagonoy, Davao del Sur. Purportedly she had babies dying at birth due to aerial spray drifting to her neighborhood. Camocaan would later be the locus of the medical study on aerial pesticide blight.
The victims’ barangay chiefs quickly debunked the claims. A medical certificate surfaced, confirmed by his sister, that Batuhan had damaged his retina in a dive-fishing accident in Palawan. Watin, on the other hand, was diagnosed with rare hereditary skin disorder, keratosis follicularis. As for Dulla, two grown sons were presented to the press as she denied having claimed any deaths. The village heads swore the plantations had helped improve their incomes and living conditions, so they are healthier now than before the banana boom.
The health-environment NGOs persisted, presenting close to a dozen more poisoning victims. Each time one turned up, the Fertilizer & Pesticide Authority would lead a verification team with reps from the environment and health agencies, provincial and town halls. Every case — deformities in infants, cancer among villagers, or sudden sickness of farm workers — was refuted as false, exaggerated or unrelated to pesticides. The NGOs wailed that they were up against super-rich banana exporters; in turn their foreign financing came into question.
The locals were capable of storytelling too. Recounting the poverty before fruit growing uplifted their locales, barangay officials averred they drank only rainwater from nipa hut roofs exposed to aerial spraying. “No one got sick or died,” eight of them chorused. Sexagenarian banana grower Moises Torrentira used to work as plantation flagman. His ground duty was to signal the airplane pilot when to switch on and off the sprayer, and so was showered with toxins. He has 11 offspring, all professionals, to show that, contrary to claims, the chemicals did not make him sterile or dull his family. A plantation owner’s son recalled being assigned 30 years ago by American crop-dusters to stick his tongue out as they sprayed from above. It was their crude way of determining correct spray thickness. He is now a successful businessman-politician to disprove the medical findings.
But scientists and laymen dismiss all that as extreme. Commonsense tells us to avoid unnatural substances lest they harm the body. As one conservationist puts it, “Don’t we leave the room when spraying insect killer?” That is why the UP peer review is crucial to start straightening out the facts.
Both sides of the aerial spraying fight offer serious points to ponder. The antis want a test if the active ingredients in banana fungicides can hurt humans and animals. Banana growers ask what half-a-million workers and entrepreneurs will do if 50,000 hectares of bananas-for-export fold up from leaf-rotting fungi. The protagonists need to put heads together to craft win-win formulas. They could discuss fast-track development of safer fungicide and periodic evacuation of plantation-side residents. The Pilipino Banana Growers and Exporters Association reportedly has offered to drop all court cases and talk. So far the NGOs’ response is to slug it out.
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As part of a series on pork barrels, I featured last week a complaint in the House ethics body of Negros Oriental mayors against fund misuse. Rep. Jocelyn Sy Limkaichong sent this rejoinder:
“Contrary to reports that most of my PDAF were channeled to the La Libertad town alone, distribution in 2007-2008 was actually:
“Infrastructure, DPWH, P80 million;
“Indigent patients, Vicente Sotto Medical Center, P250,000; Phil. General Hospital, P250,000; Heart Center, P700,000; Kidney Institute, P400,000; National Children’s Hospital, P200,000; Lung Center, P100,000; DSWD, P900,000;
“Vocational training, TESDA, P400,000;
“Local governments, Province of Negros Oriental, P10.95 million; Manjuyod, P200,000; La Libertad (including district-wide distribution), P30.65 million.
“Double L Construction is owned not by me but by my sister-in-law. Out of delicadeza, the firm has never participated in any civil work bidding in my 1st district. Nor has it undertaken any project funded by my PDAF. Double L is classified as a big constructor capable of large projects far beyond my PDAF budget.
“Emmanuel Iway, my congressional employee with rank of Political Affairs Assistant II, is currently detailed to La Libertad to oversee my PDAF projects. He has been authorized to countersign disbursement vouchers for records purposes. While it is true that the municipality employs Jessie Villarino as meter reader, he was hired before his father Jesus Villarino was assigned State Auditor for the district.
“The purchase of a bus for P798,000 was below prevailing market price and through competitive bidding. Most LGUs would have purchased it for P1.5-P3 million.”
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E-mail: jariusbondoc@workmail.com