A place to call their own

MANILA, Philippines - “Gamay lang (a little).” That was Ging-Ging Anggalos’ shy  response when asked if she had the chance to be educated, but this could also describe the living conditions of the Manobos.

While there are those who would romanticize a nomadic lifestyle, the reality was much more difficult for the Lumads of Talaingod in Davao del Norte. Their health status is far from perfect, they had so little income that they barely managed to keep their families from starvation, and they received little or no education. The strong presence of the New People’s Army (NPA) in Talaingod made things even more difficult for the residents. Clashes with the military have thrown the community into a seemingly perpetual state of fear and danger.  While there were government and non-government organizations that attempted to help the poverty-afflicted municipality, most of these projects fell short of sustainability.

Things changed when Kapit-Bisig Laban sa Kahirapan-Comprehensive and Integrated Delivery of Social Services (Kalahi-CIDSS) came into the picture in 2004.

But it was far from easy. The secluded location of the municipality, the lack of access trails, and the distance from one sitio to another proved to be major problems for the area coordinating team. This was aggravated by the distrust of the Manobos, who comprised roughly 80 percent of the population, toward the government.

The administrative situation in Talaingod presented a problem as well. Kalahi-CIDSS usually determines how much funds will be allocated in an area based on the number of barangays within the municipality. While Talaingod is composed of only three barangays, it had 98 sitios, which meant that the funds that the community will receive will not be enough to make an impact in the lives of people. 

It was the perseverance of the Kalahi-CIDSS representatives and their local government counterparts that ultimately persuaded the Manobos of the sincerity of the project. Trekking through mountains and rivers to immerse themselves in the culture of the Lumads, the members of the Kalahi-CIDSS team and their municipal counterparts learned more about the culture of the people and made adjustments in how the project should work in the area. Instead of allocating the funds to three barangays, Talaingod was divided into 15 tribal clusters so they could get more funding in order to better address the needs of the people.  The Manobos slowly learned to have faith. “We thank Kalahi-CIDSS very much because people now have homes. We thank the LGU for organizing this. We were lifted up even if we are lowly,” said Emily Allison, who served as the Kalahi-CIDSS secretary and bookkeeper.

Purok Mangga, part of the Dagohoy cluster in Talaingod, is a good example of the many changes that happened.

The first thing a visitor notices upon arrival is the 28 homes arranged in neat clusters. Entering the village, one would see a map painted on the wall with house-shaped cutouts with labels, depicting the housing system in the community and showing who owns which dwelling. Small pieces of foil in different colors are used to indicate the status of each home so the residents themselves can monitor which houses need maintenance. On the side of the small village is an herbal garden which the villagers maintain.

The tribal housing system is the most commonly implemented Kalahi-CIDSS project in Talaingod. With the non-Lumads waiving their rights in favor of the indigenous communities, the Manobos were given the opportunity to decide which projects they want implemented. More than half of the Kalahi-CIDSS projects in Talaingod were tribal housing systems, a positive indication of the Manobos’ desire to finally have permanent homes.

Contrary to popular belief, the Manobos did not deliberately choose to live as nomads. In fact, they even built houses. However, the materials they used were not sturdy enough to withstand bad weather.

Susan Espelita, 23, one of the residents, described the difficulties of living the nomadic life, saying that while they built houses in the past, these were ramshackle structures that were only meant to temporarily protect them from the elements. As such, the shelters gave way easily. As Susan said, “A little leak of the roof will make the house deteriorate.” 

Emily agreed. “We only lived in shanties before, which were not permanent structures. Once these get destroyed, we move,” she said, succinctly describing the past life of the Manobos.

The tribal housing system not only gave the Manobos permanence, it also taught them the value of cooperation. They met regularly with representatives of Kalahi-CIDSS and the local government to discuss how the project would work in order to hasten the process. Problems were discussed so the whole community would decide to handle these. “We had problems with the workers,” said Jose Nuñez.  “Many surrendered because of the distance. We also had problems in bringing the lumber here.” They found workers who did not object to the distance. They also decided to hire a dump truck to bring the materials to Purok Mangga so as to stick to the schedule. They themselves worked in the construction.

Using the bayanihan system, they finished building one house before starting work on a new one to ensure that the process is fast and efficient without sacrificing the soundness of the structures. There were even those who are not residents of Purok Mangga who nonetheless helped in the construction and management of the homes, as in the case of Helen Manalay who is from a different sitio but is part of the housing committee. 

Today, a little over a year after the houses have been completed, the power of cooperation remains strong in Purok Mangga. The housing committee conducts inspections to monitor the condition of the houses, if these need maintenance. The herbal garden is community property, with anyone in the village allowed to harvest from there.

The journey of the Manobos of Purok Mangga has finally brought them home.