Learning that journalism’s “first obligation is to the truth” seemed easy and logical for a freshman. My first lessons as a BA Broadcast Communication major focused on the value of facts and verification in reporting. Kovach and Rosenstiel’s words were a key tenet in their book, The Elements of Journalism, one of our basic texts in the College of Mass Communication; and I soon learned that they were more complex than I had initially thought.

I had been practicing campus journalism since grade school, making me confident that applying for a stint in the Philippine Collegian (Kulê) would be a breeze. By the end of my first week in ����̽̽, I was already climbing the stairs of Vinzons Hall without losing my breath, going up to the infamous Room 401, where the Collegian office was. I passed the exam and was soon a cub reporter in the Features Section.

“Easy,” I told myself complacently.

Chance encounters

The first story my editor assigned me to was to find out whether there was a syndicate behind the sampaguita vendors plying the campus streets and nearby main avenues. Seeking to ace the assignment, I walked from University Avenue to Kamuning, asking sampaguita vendors where they were sourcing their wares.

“Nanay ko po ang gumagawa,” a girl I met along Agham Road told me. Heading there, I realized the sampaguita garlands were not products of a nefarious syndicate, but of a community fighting for survival. That was my first encounter with the struggle of Sitio San Roque, a community in the heart of Quezon City under the constant threat of being wiped away by big-ticket development. Right now, that same community remains, undaunted, persistent, yet smaller in size, as tall condominiums and malls have already carved out their lion’s share of the land area.

After learning that the sampaguita garland business was not an illicit trade, I told myself, “This won’t work. This wasn’t the assignment.” I persevered. Walking along Agham Road, I caught sight of small kids getting on board a jeepney, with rags in their hands, polishing commuters’ shoes clean.

“Kailangan namin ng pambaon, Kuya,” a child explained to me. And that became my first Collegian article, the story of the shoe shiners of Agham Road and the threat of demolition looming over their families’ heads.

Thus, my collegiate journalistic journey began. Months into the rigorous weekly presswork, I realized that to understand Kovach and Rosenstiel’s point, I needed to fully digest the second half of that eponymous line, that journalism’s first loyalty is to the citizens. The Collegian reporting tradition enabled me to realize that we need to adhere to facts; but what facets of the multiple versions of the truth should we highlight? The answer—the version that will empower the marginalized, as we recognize that journalism can help those being silenced to be heard and included in the narrative.

During my time in Kulê, I encountered a kaleidoscope of experiences that shaped my understanding of the journalistic profession. Interviewing figures of authority and influence, such as retired Major General Jovito Palparan, was a deep dive into the complexities of power and accountability. These interviews, tense and fraught with unspoken undercurrents, taught me the importance of probing beneath the surface and uncovering the layers hidden behind the veneer of public personas.

Yet the most impactful and profound stories unfolded beyond the university walls, in the streets, the haciendas, the picket lines. Covering the plight of those affected by demolitions, the struggles of laborers, and the fervor of protests, I came to see that these stories were not mere journalistic assignments, but profound insights into humankind’s capacity to foment change.

A voice for communities

After leaving ����̽̽, I spent years working with youth and advocacy groups, including Kabataan Partylist in Congress, before making the shift to community journalism. Returning from a consultation with youth groups in Mindanao in January 2017, I had a near fatal car accident that left me in a coma for a few days. The convalescence period for that accident took over a year as well as four surgeries.

When I was stable enough to move around, I volunteered for Altermidya Network, the country’s broadest network of regional alternative media outfits and community journalists. Being an Altermidya journalist was the balance I was latently looking for; it allowed me to unabashedly continue my activist pursuits, while being able to cover and write stories that mattered.

Unsurprisingly, Altermidya was founded in ����̽̽ in October 2014, with the late College of Mass Communications Dean Luis Teodoro serving as its founding chairperson. The verdant campus that opened the world of journalism for me also happened to be the birthplace of the network I now serve.

Transitioning to being a community journalist was like venturing into a broader landscape, where the stories were more diverse and the stakes even higher. Here, the lessons from Kulê took on new dimensions as I navigated the complexities of national and community narratives.

The rigorous research and critical analysis that were the backbone of my work at the Collegian became even more crucial at Altermidya. Tackling national issues, exploring the intricacies of policy, and giving voice to marginalized communities required a commitment to thoroughness and accuracy. Each article was crafted as a report and a comprehensive analysis, offering insights and perspectives that went beneath the surface.

Reflecting on this journey from the Collegian to Altermidya, I see a continuous thread of growth and evolution. Kulê was not just a starting point but a foundational experience that shaped my worldview and approach to journalism. It instilled in me a profound respect for the power of words and a deep understanding of the responsibility of wielding them.

As I continue to navigate the ever-changing landscape of journalism, the teachings and experiences from my Kulê days resonate in every story I craft for Altermidya. These experiences have reinforced my belief that journalism is more than a profession; it is a commitment to storytelling that seeks to inform, engage, and, most importantly, connect. In every narrative I weave, I strive to capture the essence of the human experience—the struggles, triumphs, and unyielding spirit that defines our collective journey.

My journey from the Philippine Collegian to Altermidya is a testament to the transformative power of storytelling. It underscores the belief that every story matters and that each narrative is crucial to the larger societal mosaic. This journey has been a tapestry of experiences, each thread representing a story, a lesson, or a moment of insight.

From the vibrant campus of ����̽̽ to the diverse communities served by Altermidya, my path has been one of continuous learning and adaptation. It has been a journey of discovering the many stories that make up our world and finding the best ways to tell them. As I move forward, I commit to helping hone a future where journalism continues to be a force for good, a medium for truth, and a bridge that enables the marginalized to be visible in the daily narrative.

Marjohara Tucay is a community journalist and news producer for Altermidya Network, a coalition of national and regional alternative media outfits and community journalists in the Philippines.

Email the author at upforum@up.edu.ph.

Read more articles from the ����̽̽ FORUM

Read more about activism in ����̽̽ via these links:

• From Placards to Memes
• Activism and ����̽̽’s mandate of public service
• On the Screen and in the Streets: Student Activism during the COVID 19 Lockdowns

Just four days after the May 9, 2022 National and Local Elections, Tesk.ph released its report on how bogus vote tallies and supposed disqualification of some candidates proliferated online during election day.

The Tsek.ph report said fake news proliferated “overwhelmingly on Facebook, and occasionally on Twitter and YouTube, mostly by Marcos supporters, including Showbiz Fanaticz channel, whose election-related claims have been previously fact-checked.”

In an earlier report, Tsek.ph said disinformation flooded in “multiple formats and platforms that is unprecedented in the country’s history.” Foremost in the targeted candidates they said, were then presidential candidates Leni Robredo and Ferdinand Marcos, Jr. The disinformation efforts on the two competing candidates, they added, is indicative of the “high political polarization” of the politically conscious demographic in the country.

Spearheaded by the Department of Journalism in the ����̽̽ (����̽̽) Diliman, Tesk.ph is a multisectoral fact-checking initiative involving 34 institutions in the academe, news industry, and civil society. The project is supported by ����̽̽, Google News Initiative, Rakuten Media, Meta, Meedan, and the Embassy of Canada in the Philippines.

Initially launched in 2019, Tsek.ph was conceptualized due to the “growing threats of disinformation and misinformation in traditional and online media that affect the health of democratic countries and the power of citizens to make informed choices during elections.”

In 2019, the Tsek.ph team fact-checked 131 materials on disinformation and misinformation “targeting candidates and political groups vying for positions in the May elections”. Out of those gathered, 84 were found to be false, 21 needed context, 19 were misleading, and 2 had no basis. Most the materials were disseminated via social media, while others were included in the speeches of candidates, stated during their appearance on television programs, and even included in their own curriculum vitae.

Also active in the fight against disinformation for the empowerment of voters is the ����̽̽ sa Halalan project, headed by the Department of Political Science in ����̽̽ Diliman. Banking on the expertise of their faculty members and their partners, the initiative provides analysis, think pieces, and insights on the elections, as well as on social issues which confront the Filipino voter.

In 2022, ����̽̽ sa Halalan joined hands with Tsek.ph for the May 2023 elections. Constituent universities of the ����̽̽ System also signed up with the network, such as ����̽̽ Baguio, ����̽̽ Cebu, ����̽̽ Visayas and ����̽̽ Open University. They joined a consortium of universities, news media, and civil society organizations in efforts to combat disinformation.

In 2023, ����̽̽ sa Halalan was active during the , providing voter education and information, as well as analysis and insights on the electoral process, as well as its impact in the communities. Aside from publishing their analyses on their website and disseminating these via social media, their experts also appeared on national news programs, providing perspectives on the elections.

����̽̽ sa Halalan began as an election initiative of the ����̽̽ Office of the Vice President for Public Affairs (OVPPA) in 2012, for the May 2013 elections. The result of a collaboration between ����̽̽, the Commissions on Elections (COMELEC), and ABS-CBN Corporation, which provided voter information and education materials, a precinct finder, interactive election map, think pieces, analysis, infographics, and, of course,

Collaboration with the COMELEC also allowed the project access to much needed data on the voting population, as well as on candidates running in the regions. Partnering with ABS-CBN also allowed for the creation of multimedia materials which best put the data in a good and creative use.

Notably, focused more on verifying the claims of candidates for the senatorial positions, and not on claims from dubious individuals disseminated on social media platforms. A series of the fact checks were produced and disseminated on the University’s social media platforms.

In 2015, the in anticipation of the May 2016 National and Local Elections. Capitalizing on its efforts three years earlier, the project expanded its engagement with the news media by engaging not only ABS-CBN, but also GMA. With this approach, the University’s experts sought to provide analysis and information to more members of the public through their appearance on television programs, radio programs, think pieces, as well as fact checks of claims made by candidates.

In 2019, ����̽̽ sa Halalan officially passed from the OVPPA to the ����̽̽ Diliman Department of Political Science, in recognition of the contributions by many of its faculty to the previous two iterations of the project. With assistance from the ����̽̽ Office of the Vice President for Academic Affairs (OVPAA), the Office of Extension Coordination, and the ����̽̽ Diliman Office of the Vice Chancellor for Research and Development (OVCRD), to provide perspectives on political issues confronting Philippine society, particularly during the elections, as well as to provide the public with correct information on the country’s institutions, the electoral process, as well as the candidates during elections.

With the country’s midterm elections just around the corner, organizations like and will continue to provide perspectives, analyses, information, and, most of all, fact checks for both the online and offline world now saddled with misinformation, disinformation, and malinformation. And these initiatives are manifestations of not only the honor and excellence of the national university’s experts, but more importantly, its commitment to inform, educate, and empower the Filipino nation.

Email the author at upforum@up.edu.ph.

Read more articles from the ����̽̽ FORUM

Read more about fact-checking initiatives in ����̽̽ via these links: 

• The problem with fake news: ����̽̽ experts speak on the impact of disinformation on politics, society and democracy
• Democracy and Disinformation: The role of campuses, campus journalism, citizen journalism and fact-checking in the struggle for democracy
• ����̽̽ experts call for more substantial bill vs ‘fake news’

Read more about activism in ����̽̽ via these links:

• From Placards to Memes
• ����̽̽’s Tradition of Protest Music
• Activism and ����̽̽’s mandate of public service
• We encourage activism. . . because we care.
• On the Screen and in the Streets: Student Activism during the COVID 19 Lockdowns
• The Evolution of an Activist

This double-issue of the ����̽̽ Forum for July to December 2023 features the different forms of activism and advocacy being espoused by different members of the ����̽̽ community. Read about the advocacies, struggles, and efforts of some of its faculty, student, staff and alumni, as they carry on the traditions of honor and excellence in the service of the nation.

The ����̽̽ Forum is the official quarterly publication of the ����̽̽ prepared by the Office of the Vice President for Public Affairs, thru the Media and Public Relations Office.

This issue of the ����̽̽ Forum can be downloaded here.

At the height of the pandemic, when ����̽̽’s campuses were emptied of their usual denizens, there were some who were left behind. Among them: the population of community cats and dogs that called the campus buildings their home.

Soon, reports emerged from ����̽̽’s campuses of acts of compassion. Some faculty, students and staff, including the security guards and custodial workers, had gone out of their way to feed and take care of the community cats and dogs during the lockdowns.

The Cats of ����̽̽B

In ����̽̽ Baguio, the animals were not left unattended. A Facebook post dated May 11, 2020 featured photos of some of ����̽̽ Baguio’s resident cats being fed by Jennifer Inovero, Assistant Professor of Physical Education. An earlier Facebook post also showed a student-volunteer making the rounds to feed ����̽̽ Baguio’s “����̽̽Cats”. Yet another post showed a security guard conducting temperature checks on the cats per COVID safety regulations. This post tugged the heartstrings of the public so much that it caught the attention of mainstream media.

“During the pandemic, nagpalista ako sa Chancellor namin as a frontliner under the Animal Welfare Committee,” explained Inovero. This allowed her to enter the campus to feed the cats. “Nakatulong din ‘yung mga cats sa mental health ko since ang hirap ng buhay natin noon,” Inovero said. “And going around their feeding stations, I treated it as (cardio) exercise ko na din. So the benefit was mutual, and siguro naman masaya ‘yung cats kasi matataba sila noon.”

CATS: Compassion for Animals Through Service

In ����̽̽LB, at around the same time, something similar was taking place. Rosa Mia Cabanting, who now works for the Institute of Crop Science, ����̽̽LB College of Agriculture and Food Science, was a graduate student at the time and staying at the International House Residence Hall along with the other grad students who had been stranded in the campus during the lockdown. She and her fellow dormers took to feeding the cats in the dorm and eventually the surrounding buildings as well. When Cabanting found herself offering up for adoption a kindle of kittens from two mama cats via the Facebook group, ����̽̽LB Lockdown Diaries, that was when Chiara Karenina Manuel, ����̽̽LB alumna, development communicator, entrepreneur and animal welfare advocate, reached out to her. Working with fellow volunteers, they managed to have the mama cats spayed at the Philippine Animal Welfare Society (PAWS) in Quezon City, along with an initial batch of 10 cats.

This led to KaponHeist, wherein the volunteers take animals to PAWS and the Philippine Pet Birth Control Center Foundation to be spayed or neutered. They soon realized that they needed to make the operation more sustainable. Plus, they needed to document the animal population and the impacts of spaying and neutering on both the animals and the community in general, and to educate the community on how to conduct proactive community animal management. They started welcoming more people who wanted to help, created a Facebook page, and in May 2021, the student volunteer organization Compassion for Animals Through Service of ����̽̽LB Students or CATS of ����̽̽LB was created.

“We needed to communicate to the people who approached us that we are not a rescue group. Hindi kami veterinarian. We have to ask veterinarians for assistance. Nagdadala kami ng mga alaga sa vets because we want other people or organizations to emulate us as responsible colony managers. Community animal care ito for us,” Manuel said.

An uphill battle

Inovero and the ����̽̽B faculty volunteers, as well as CATS of ����̽̽LB, are among the organizations, units and individual volunteers whose focus is responsible pet ownership and caring for the wellbeing of ����̽̽’s campus animals. Others have been standing up for ����̽̽’s non-human community members for a while now. In ����̽̽ Diliman, for instance, there is the Friends of Campus Animals ����̽̽ (FOCA ����̽̽), the first animal welfare volunteer group in ����̽̽ Diliman, created in July 2015 by a ����̽̽ Journalism professor, Khrysta Imperial Rara, and Dr. Jonathan Anticamara, a professor at the ����̽̽ Diliman Institute of Biology (IB), who on his own has been taking care of the cats and dogs around the IB building since 2010, and who often partners with Rara in conducting spay-neuter programs in the ����̽̽ Diliman campus, as well as educational campaigns even in other ����̽̽ campuses.

Whether they are veteran or relatively new volunteers, they all agree on one thing: that caring and advocating for ����̽̽’s community animals is often “an uphill battle”, and that it is the human side of the equation that makes the problem so complicated.

“First of all, some officials don’t fully understand what animal welfare is,” Rara said. “Akala nila, basta napakain mo lang at napasunod mo sila sa gusto mo, tapos na. But welfare is not from the humans’ point of view. It must be from the point of view of the animal. Look at it through the animal’s eyes. How does he see the world? What causes his stress, his fears? What motivates a female dog to do certain things? In animal welfare, the animal must be allowed to make a choice. Like if a campus dog doesn’t want to be touched or petted, then we should respect that.”

Failing to gain the support of authorities can make the job exponentially harder. As priorities shift, some initiatives meant to benefit the most ignored sector of the ����̽̽ community can be left high and dry. The ����̽̽ Baguio Animal Welfare Committee, which was formed in 2018, lasted only three years. “Now we’re only faculty volunteers,” Inovero said. “Kung ano yung ginagawa namin before, tinuloy lang namin. At saka we’re already attached to the campus cats.” The volunteer caretakers rely on sporadic donations to provide for the cats, but mostly the funds come from their own pockets. “Mabigat sa akin financially, at kapag may nagkakasakit, emotionally and psychologically din,” Inovero admitted. “Minsan parang gusto ko nang bumigay, pero iisipin ko lang, kung tumigil ako, paano na yung mga cats?”

In 2023, ����̽̽ students were shocked to learn that Balay Kaibigan, ����̽̽ Diliman’s center for animal-related activities, was going to be permanently closed. . By 2023, at least 872 dogs and cats had been neutered and at least 150 of them were adopted; now, only the six resident dogs that serve as Emotional Support Animals (ESAs) for the students remained.

For Rara, this “setback” came with a twist as earlier, in August 2023, . Balay Kalagday in ����̽̽V’s Miagao campus would serve as a “halfway house” where campus cats and dogs would be cared for following the “trap-neuter-vaccinate-release” (TNVR) framework. If this sounds familiar, it’s because Balay Kalagday was, by ����̽̽V Chancellor Clement Camposano’s admission, inspired by Balay Kaibigan.

“Balay Kaibigan inspired volunteerism,” Rara said. “From June to December 2023, an average of 10 ����̽̽ and non-����̽̽ students and even working professionals visited Balay Kaibigan daily to walk the rescued dogs and play with the cats and prepare them for adoption. Even now, FOCA still gets a lot of inquiries and requests to volunteer for the dogs and cats.” In fact, ����̽̽ Diliman is a recognized pioneer in campus animal wefare and management. “We were a beacon of light for other campuses. Other schools and universities, and even some subdivisions, have asked ����̽̽ Diliman and FOCA for guidance in managing their community animals.”

Animal welfare, human management

It’s not just trouble with animal politics. Too often, it’s trouble with humans in general. CATS of ����̽̽LB has a policy of maintaining their members’ anonymity to protect them from online and physical harassment as they go about their tasks of feeding and caring for the animals. Cabanting and her fellow volunteers have been yelled at by irate people after some cats or dogs defecated inside buildings or knocked over trashcans, despite the fact that it was humans who covered up the grounds with concrete and left trashcans without lids full of food waste. “Parang since wala silang nakikitang benefits doon sa hayop, ang daling magbitiw ng mga salitang katulad ng ‘lalasunin ko ‘yang mga pusa na ‘yan kapag hindi ako nakapagpigil,’“ she said.

For Anticamara, this is all rooted in a widespread culture of cruelty. “There’s a lot of cruelty in the Philippines. Sometimes this cruelty isn’t obvious na pananakit but, for example, hinahayaang dumami yung mga anak ng cats and dogs tapos kapag nanganak na, itatapon. How can a system like ����̽̽ not address that or consider that a priority?” Especially since there are practical solutions to the problem of stray animals, such as scientifically based TNVR, management and monitoring of stray populations, adoptions, public education against all forms of animal cruelty, and policies that support humane stray animal management. “We need public support in ����̽̽ and in the Philippines toi run and implement regular programs that, hopefully, will lead to ����̽̽ and the country becoming a zero-stray campus and country,” he added.

Stronger together

Anticamara, for his part, considers his efforts to care for the campus animals as simply part of being a biologist who considers long-term ecological impacts. “I want to seek solutions through science. I know there’s a problem—sobrang daming strays, sobrang daming abandoned animals that are suffering. I think that’s a problem with a solution, so para sa akin, it’s more of what’s the best scientific solution to this problem.”

For people caring for animals in ����̽̽, the struggle is very, very real, and so is the worry of how long one can keep it up. “I made an action and so far it’s working. But I don’t think I can sustain it. Ito ang problema ko: if I’m not here, what will happen?” Anticamara admitted. “I can wish that there’s a systematic solution that everyone in ����̽̽ can agree on. Doesn’t matter who you are—economist, mathematician, engineer, psychologist—we share, as one humanity, a common environment. Hindi pwede na ang value lang natin is how much money this will give me. Lahat ay sa Nature nanggagaling.”

In ����̽̽ Baguio, the cats are as much a part of the community as the humans. “I believe that dogs and cats have real emotions,” said Inovero. “Let’s just leave them be. They have the right to live in a clean, safe environment. Let’s care for them like we care for our family members.”

“Mahirap itong work pero at the end of the day, very fulfilling sya,” Cabanting said about why they persist. “We do this for the University, para maging stable ang population ng animals. We do this for the people, so you don’t need to deal with a lot of unvaccinated animals or para walang nangungulit sa inyo sa dorm na nanghihingi ng food. Ito ang kino-communicate namin: na hindi mo kailangang kumuha ng something from these animals para alagaan mo sila. Buhay kasi ang pinag-uusapan, buhay ng mga aso’t pusa.”

“How to be an animal welfare activist? In your own little way, number one is: be kind to animals,” Rara said. “In your heart and mind, dapat may compassion ka na. Be compassionate and kind to all living things.

“And number two, if you’re a ����̽̽ student tapos nakita ninyo na marami nang stray cats or dogs sa college ninyo, form a group then do research on animal welfare. Kasi you can do more as a group than alone. You’re stronger together.”

Email the author at upforum@up.edu.ph.

Read more articles from the ����̽̽ FORUM

Read more about activism in ����̽̽ via these links:

• From Placards to Memes
• ����̽̽’s Tradition of Protest Music
• Activism and ����̽̽’s mandate of public service
• We encourage activism. . . because we care.
• On the Screen and in the Streets: Student Activism during the COVID 19 Lockdowns
• The Evolution of an Activist

“Sayang naman.”

Imagine hearing that as a response to “I want to be a doctor.” Unusual, right? Now imagine that comment coming from an educator interviewing a ����̽̽ student who was about to earn his Biology degree, magna cum laude, and was being considered as the “Most Outstanding Graduate. Surprising, but perhaps a little less so, when that educator was seemingly more impressed with the leadership qualities the student displayed.

“I was told I could go into community leadership instead,” an ophthalmologist and a researcher, Dr. Leo Cubillan, recalled that incident in 1986. He had asked himself then why his dream of going into medicine was deemed a waste. He believed the path he saw for himself, especially after four years of studying in ����̽̽ Diliman (����̽̽D), would lead him to render greater service to the country.

More than three decades later, he would mark one of the greater milestones in his professional career. In 2019, one of the research projects he led became Republic Act No. 11358 or the National Vision Screening Act. Turning research into national policy showed Cubillan that it was not “sayang” after all.

‘����̽̽ shaped me’

At age 16 years, he left Surigao with a National Science and Technology Authority scholarship to pursue his pre-med in ����̽̽D. His undergraduate days, 1982 to 1986, were not exactly years of peace and quiet. Those turbulent times awakened something in him. “When you see that there are problems that need to be addressed, you also feel compelled to act, in your own way, to try and make change happen.”

Among his many activities, he noted one of his more significant initiatives as councilor of the then Institute of Biological Sciences in the College of Science student council: the proposal of a “pass or fail” grading system. It stemmed from the recognition that students, even in the middle of social and political turmoil in the country, and with difficulty for faculty members finding it difficult to provide numerical grades, students needed to be able to continue their studies and graduate. And they needed academic marks to do so.

When he went to ����̽̽ Manila to earn his medical degree, his training at the ����̽̽ Philippine General Hospital (����̽̽-PGH) widened even more his view of the country’s problems. After his External Eye Diseases fellowship in 1996, Cubillan became a university researcher at the Philippine Eye Research Institute (PERI) of the ����̽̽ National Institutes of Health and a clinical associate professor at the College of Medicine.

Seeking to build up his capabilities as an eye doctor, he went to the US to undergo more training on cornea, uveitis and external eye diseases at the University of California, San Francisco (UCSF). It was there that he developed a deeper love for research, which strengthened his belief that it was a powerful tool with which to improve the lives of Filipinos.

The dire situation in ����̽̽-PGH, the issues in health care access he saw, stayed with him. “It was always on my mind and I knew I had to somehow do something about it,” he said. That was when he decided to pursue his Master of Public Health at UC Berkeley to “better contribute to the improvement of the Philippine health care system.”

Cubillan could have stayed in the US. There were certainly more lucrative opportunities for him there, especially with his advanced training. But there was no pull for him to remain. Instead, it only pushed him to go back. “It was really how ����̽̽ developed in me that desire to serve, that I should use my abilities and do what I can for my country.”

Envisioning better eye health for Filipinos

Back in PERI, he was involved in the country-wide surveys on blindness and eye diseases. “We had population-based studies that we used to help the Department of Health (DOH) in creating national programs to reduce or prevent blindness in the Philippines.” But he was not content with his work. Cubillan, who had become the PERI director in 2011, wanted to do more to address visual impairment at the early stages to prevent conditions from worsening.

“What do we know? What can we do?” were the questions he asked himself. Using research data, he knew that in a class of 40 Filipino children, around four would have vision problems. Three might have errors of refraction (EORs)—blurred vision and inability to focus. This usually manifests as myopia or nearsightedness, where things are clearer up close and more blurred farther away. One of the four affected children, meanwhile, might have amblyopia or lazy eye, where one eye has blurry vision while the other sees clearly. Lazy eye has a prevalence of two to five percent in children and is one of the causes of visual impairment and preventable blindness.

As an ophthalmologist, he knew that myopia in children had a tendency to progress rather quickly, and while influenced by genetics, progression may slow down with early detection and intervention. He also knew that lazy eye would get worse if left untreated, but if caught before a child reached the age of seven, was totally treatable. Vision problems affect how children learn and behave. Some may be able to verbalize the problems they experience, while there are some who are either too shy or scared to speak up.

He realized that vision screening on a national scale was needed if greater impact was to be made on the lives of Filipino children, so that there would be less incidence of visual impairment as they grew older.

As an administrator and project leader, he knew there was a lot of work to be done, from having the appropriate screening tools and a simpler screening process, to mobilizing the resources for training and implementation nationwide. PERI already had a close working relationship with the DOH. It needed to get the Department of Education (DepEd) on board. It found the agency supportive of this initiative, especially with the implementation of the K-12 curriculum, where children may be screened as soon as they start kindergarten as early as the age of five.

From program to national policy

In 2015, PERI formally launched the National Vision Screening Program during its 50th founding anniversary. An age-appropriate, culturally-neutral screening kit was developed. Its tools were simple and easy to use, making training of kindergarten teachers uncomplicated as well.

During pilot runs of the program, teachers and parents of kindergarten students found there really was more than meets the eye in children who appeared inattentive and disruptive in class, resulting in poor academic performance. It turned out that they just could not see clearly. For those with lazy eye, a simple patch on the eye with better vision forced the affected one to develop until vision in both eyes became equal. For nearsighted students, the first step was to move them to the first row. “In one of the classes we screened, there was one student who was noisy and would not pay attention to the lesson. When we came back months later, the kid was already top of his class after moving to the front row! Hindi lang pala niya makita nang malinaw yung blackboard.”

The PERI-DOH-DepEd collaboration was strong enough to make partners of both houses of Philippine Congress as well. It may have taken years before the law was passed and signed, but Cubillan was proud that he was able to help rally PERI to push for the translation of its research into actionable policy. He also said that they were working with PhilHealth to cover the expenses of prescription eyeglasses for these children. COVID-19 may have hampered the rollout of the program, but activities have resumed since restrictions on physical mobility and conduct of classes were removed.

The journey of the National Vision Screening Act is also the journey of someone who saw the world through the lenses of social awareness and responsibility that ����̽̽ equipped him with as a student. Lenses that allowed him to work towards giving Filipino children a clearer vision for the future. Now that Cubillan is the University’s Vice President for Academic Affairs, he intends to make sure that ����̽̽ continues to provide those lenses to its students, so that they, too, may see and walk the path that will eventually lead them to change the country for the better.

Email the author at upforum@up.edu.ph.

Read more articles from the ����̽̽ FORUM

Read more about activism in ����̽̽ via these links:

• From Placards to Memes
• ����̽̽’s Tradition of Protest Music
• Activism and ����̽̽’s mandate of public service
• We encourage activism. . . because we care.
• On the Screen and in the Streets: Student Activism during the COVID 19 Lockdowns
• The Evolution of an Activist

Theories of democracy generally value citizen activism as an essential component of a healthy democratic system. Hence, when people engage in protests, participate in signature campaigns, and contribute to online and offline public discourse, there are bound to be inconveniences, but democracy would certainly still be thriving.

What happens, however, if instead of individuals, institutions or branches of government engage in activism? Consider courts, for instance. What if judges interpret laws based on their own normative beliefs or political predispositions, or if courts make a habit of striking down an action of either the Congress or the president?

As the questions hint at, judicial activism is far from one’s usual notion of political activism. Simply put, judicial activism refers to the judiciary’s willingness to interpret the Constitution and laws in a manner that actively shapes public policy. In the literature, there is judicial activism when a court undertakes any of the following: a court invalidates the constitutional action of another branch (e.g., legislature, executive); a court fails to adhere to a precedent; a court engages in judicial policymaking; a court departs from accepted interpretive methodology; or when a court engages in result-oriented judging (Kmiec, 2004). In judicial restraint, judges limit their interpretation to the text of the law; whereas in an activist court, members delve into broader societal issues and make themselves architects of legal and social change.

Figure 1. Filipinos’ trust in courts

Distinguishing judicial activism from political activism

Although conventional political activism and judicial activism share advocacy as a common thread, the similarity ends there. As a distinctive form of activism, judicial activism unfolds within the hallowed halls of courts rather than on bustling streets or in community centers. Conventional activism typically conjures images of impassioned protesters and grassroots organizers. Judicial activism, on the other hand, operates within the legal system, with judges leveraging their interpretive authority to shape legal precedents and to influence policy.

Another significant difference between judicial activism and political activism evolves around the issue of democratic legitimacy. Political activism, inherently requiring citizen participation, operates within the principles of representative democracy. Activists seek to influence elected officials and operate within the structures of accountable governance. In contrast, judicial activism involves unelected judges who make decisions that have far-reaching repercussions on public policy, but who are insulated from democratic accountability.

Another point of contention is the timing of response. Political activism is often reactive and undertaken to address pressing social concerns or issues requiring immediate public attention. Judicial activism, on the other hand, operates within the more deliberate and reflective temporal dynamics of legal proceedings. Decisions require contemplation and a good amount of legal scholarship.

Judicial activism in the Philippines

A major critique of judicial activism is its potential to undermine democratic legitimacy. When courts engage in policymaking through excessive judicial activism, they are not only usurping legislative prerogatives but also undermining electoral accountability. Unlike legislators who citizens can discipline by not reelecting, for instance, members of the judiciary cannot be made directly accountable to the citizens except perhaps by public opinion. Excessive judicial activism can also result in inconsistent legal decisions, as when courts interpret laws differently, based on their members’ ideological or moral predispositions. This lack of consistency can create uncertainty in the legal system, and may erode confidence in the ability of the judicial branch to provide stable legal interpretations.

However, some also contend that judicial activism is a crucial safeguard against executive overreach, a means to champion minority rights, and a framework to pursue social justice. In the Philippines, in particular, instances of judicial activism by the Supreme Court seem to underscore its dynamic role in shaping a socially conscious legal milieu. During martial law, when confidence to political institutions was low, the high court was said to have actively engaged in redistributive policymaking in favor of the have-nots, as a means of preserving its own legitimacy (Haynie, 1994). When democracy was restored under the 1987 Constitution, on the other hand, the high court is said to have performed a balancing role consistent with the pursuit of social justice as a constitutional principle (Panao & De Leon, 2018).

Figure 2. Opinion on the function of courts

There are numerous accounts of the high court actively interpreting and applying the law to address significant legal, constitutional, and societal issues. For instance, in the case of Association of Small Landowners of the Philippines v. Secretary of Agrarian Reform (G.R. No. 78742, July 14, 1989), the Court creatively construed agrarian reform legislations as both compensable taking and police power to ensure equitable land distribution. In the groundbreaking case of Ang Ladlad LGBT Party v. Commission on Elections (G.R. No. 190582, April 8, 2010), meanwhile, the Court recognized the right of the LGBTQ+ community to political representation, thereby marking a significant step towards inclusivity and equality.

Judicial activism in the Philippines also extends to environmental matters, as seen in the oft-cited case of Oposa v. Factoran (G.R. No. 101083, July 30, 1993), where the court recognized the right of the present generation (erstwhile having no legal standing) to sue on its behalf and that of future generations for the protection of the environment. The Court also actively made sure that equal opportunity and freedom of speech are protected, as when it upheld the right of a perennial nuisance candidate to run for public office (Pamatong v Commission on Elections, G.R. No. 161872, April 13, 2004); and recognized the importance of properly conducted exit polls to ensure orderly and credible elections (ABS-CBN v. Commission on Elections, G.R. No. 133486, January 28, 2000).

Figure 3. Belief in a proactive judiciary

Citizens and activist courts

Notwithstanding scholars’ mixed views of judicial activism, what do citizens make of an activist judiciary?

It is interesting to note that even though members of the judiciary do not need to court votes, courts seem to be among the most trusted government institutions in the Philippines. The fifth wave of the Asia Barometer Survey for the Philippines, for instance, shows that Filipinos generally have a high regard of courts as government institutions. As Figure 1 indicates, 78 percent of respondents say they either trust courts fully or trust them somewhat. However, survey results do not necessarily imply that people want courts to perform more proactively than necessary. As to the question whether it is essential in a democracy for courts to protect people when there is abuse of government power, in particular, people’s opinion is generally mixed (see Figure 2). Although about a quarter of the respondents say it is definitely very essential, 21 percent take the middle ground. Nevertheless, as Figure 3 suggests, about six in ten Filipinos disagree that courts are passive and cannot do anything when government leaders break the law.

In summary, the extent by which judicial activism undermines democracy remains to be an empirical question. It is possible that despite the absence of electoral accountability, citizens ultimately shape the environment within which judicial actions take place. In the case of the Supreme Court, one study even suggests that such strong public support provides motivation for the high court’s exercise of its review powers over other political actors (Deinla, 2014). As societies evolve and face new challenges, the ongoing discourse on the appropriate role of judicial activism in democracies will remain a crucial aspect of legal and political discussions.

References

Deinla, I. (2014). Public Support and Judicial Empowerment of the Philippine Supreme Court. Contemporary Southeast Asia, 36(1), 128.
Haynie, S. L. (1994). Resource Inequalities and Litigation Outcomes in the Philippine Supreme Court. The Journal of Politics, 56(3), 752–772.
Kmiec, K. D. (2004). The Origin and Current Meanings of “Judicial Activism.” California Law Review, 92(5), 1441.
Panao, R. A. L., & De Leon, B. X. (2018). Balancing the interests of labor and capital: An empirical analysis of Philippine Supreme Court labor cases from 1987 to 2016. Philippine Political Science Journal, 39(1), 24–46.

Email the author at upforum@up.edu.ph.

Read more articles from the ����̽̽ FORUM

Read more about activism in ����̽̽ via these links:

• From Placards to Memes
• ����̽̽’s Tradition of Protest Music
• Activism and ����̽̽’s mandate of public service
• We encourage activism. . . because we care.
• On the Screen and in the Streets: Student Activism during the COVID 19 Lockdowns
• The Evolution of an Activist

Q. You are working in an international Indigenous Peoples (IP) organization. How did it all start?

In a way, I believe that ����̽̽ played an important role in all these during the Lakbayan ng Pambansang Minorya. ����̽̽ Diliman housing thousands of Lumad, Moro, Igorot, Aeta, Dumagat, among many others, pulled me closer to the cause of IP and national minorities. I remember visiting the kampuhan and listening and being moved by stories about the harshest attacks IP experience. It was also the moment I met IP from other countries and watched how cross-border solidarity works in action, an important lesson I carry until now as the Global Coordinator of the International Indigenous Peoples Movement for Self-Determination and Liberation (IPMSDL).

Q. What are the peculiarities and special demands of working for Indigenous Peoples?

Indigenous Peoples have their unique identities and distinct ways of life. And that is both the beauty and the challenge of working with them. There’s a huge need for sensitivity and recognition of their universal right to self-determination as distinct peoples, which goes with their rights to lands, territories, culture and traditions, self-governance, political, economic, and social structures. On the other hand, you cannot just lump IP together in one basket, because one indigenous community can have a very different set of belief systems and practices from the others, even though they are from the same country, island, or larger ethnic group. But one thing for sure is that the chance to integrate with the diversity of each community’s food, songs and dances, and history is always a new learning experience.

Our dream in IPMSDL is to be a global IP movement and a campaign center of indigenous victories and struggles. Amid the difference between one IP group from another, there are common problems, like violation of their rights, systemic discrimination, and marginalization, all of which can bring IP together in solidarity.

Working with IP on an international scale also demands being adept at the compounding crises of climate change, environmental degradation, wars and territorial conflict, peace and security, and the race to “development”, because much of the impacts of these issues intersects with indigenous territories and rights.

Q. What has specifically been your work and how was your experience working with IP?

I initially joined IPMSDL as a Communications officer managing the publicity, written and multimedia content, and linking with our members, partners, and advocates. Then I became the Campaigns officer looking at the movements’ short and long-term grants and projects, and also building our portfolio in terms of global positions in major IP issues, like the trend of criminalization, terrorist-tagging, and attacks against IP human rights defenders, the defense of ancestral territories, the development policies encroaching on IP rights, climate change and IP rights, among others. It is extra challenging that most of our IP members are those living in far-flung places with no one even knowing their community exists, or those caught in the middle of highly conflicted areas.

Later on, I will be the Assistant Global Coordinator overseeing other platforms that IPMSDL hosts, like: the support network for West Papua; a study commission on IP, national minorities, oppressed nations, and nationalities; a constituency in the larger Development Effectiveness platform; a working group on conflict and fragility; and, a network for Asia IP youth.

I am thankful that I am with the best IP and Moro leaders and mentors. Our previous coordinator, Bontok-Kankanaey Beverly Longid, a ����̽̽ Baguio alumna; an Ibaloi leader, Joanna Carino, also from ����̽̽ Baguio; and, a Moro woman leader Amirah Lidasan from ����̽̽ Diliman, are just some of those who selflessly guide me on the intricacies of IP activism.

I think the chance to travel out of the country and sometimes represent my organization at international conferences is just a bonus. More than anything, the opportunity to integrate with our partners’ communities, live with them for some time, exchange stories, and build campaigns and solidarities matters the most, especially in times of growing rights violations towards IP.

Q. Is this what you dreamed of doing after graduating from ����̽̽?

I finished Journalism at ����̽̽ Diliman and right after graduation, I joined one of the biggest media networks here in the Philippines as a creatives and events specialist under their radio subsidiary. It was more than five years going around the country, working with corporate clients and their campaigns, and navigating through the demands of mainstream media. During my stint in media, I tried to continue volunteering for human rights organizations and contributing my media skills to write, edit, or organize small activities. But then I felt the need to go full blast with something that speaks louder about my advocacy and upbringing as an Isko, which is to directly work with the people and the marginalized. Again, it was the Lakbayan and this craving to go back to grassroots and peoples’ organizations that made me decide.

Q. How were you as a ����̽̽ student and how did it influence this current path that you took?

I want to see myself as a writer, artist, and activist student. I was into campus student politics, organizing students into local and national rallies, and using my love for art and writing as a student journalist and poet. Together with my ����̽̽ upbringing, and my training in Journalism to ask the hardest questions and investigate, it felt natural to follow this arc toward questioning society’s wrongs and taking the side of the voiceless.

And I think ����̽̽ is in the best position to champion the cause of IP in the country and beyond. It has a record of advocating for the Igorots’ culture and studies in ����̽̽ Baguio, and giving spaces for IP in different curricula and research. But more than that, an instituted, system-wide center for IP studies is most timely, with the University having a presence near IP communities in Southern Luzon, Central Luzon, Visayas, North Luzon, and Mindanao.

It’s a big task, I know, and the greater the challenge, the greater the lessons and victories.

Email the author at upforum@up.edu.ph.

Read more articles from the ����̽̽ FORUM

Read more about activism in ����̽̽ via these links:

• From Placards to Memes
• ����̽̽’s Tradition of Protest Music
• Activism and ����̽̽’s mandate of public service
• We encourage activism. . . because we care.
• On the Screen and in the Streets: Student Activism during the COVID 19 Lockdowns
• The Evolution of an Activist

“By locating our cultural heritage, we ascertain our origins and future,” Anna Razel Limoso Ramirez stated emphatically. The ����̽̽ Visayas (����̽̽V) publications officer is the overall co-project leader of the Cultural Mapping of Panay and Guimaras (CMPG), along with Director Anthea Redison of the ����̽̽V Center for West Visayan Studies.

Formally launched in December 2023, CMPG comes after the Cultural Mapping of Antique (CMA), the pioneering regional initiative for Western Visayas, of which Ramirez was overall project coordinator. She and Dr. Alice Magos, whom Ramirez referred to as the “backbone” of CMA, were invited back in 2018 by the Office of then Deputy House Speaker and Antique Representative Loren Legarda to help lead CMA, following their work, From Seas to the Mountains (Kadagatan Tubtub Kabukidan): Traditional Knowledge Practices of Panay and Guimaras, which was funded by the Department of Environment and Natural Resources-funded.

Ila tingog: their voices

Through cultural mapping, communities are given a platform to raise their voices, and proclaim and elucidate what is significant to them. Ramirez emphasized the non-negotiable condition of “we don’t tell them, they tell us”, when documenting heritage. Cultural mappers should record without bias, without asking leading questions to satisfy preconceived notions. CMA field workers were trained on cultural mapping by the National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA), using its own developed toolkit. It will be the same for CMPG.

The province of Antique is largely rural; and most of what was mapped in all 18 municipalities were part of intangible cultural heritage. This, according to the NCCA toolkit, includes social practices and rituals, as well as practices regarding nature and the universe.

One common tradition among Antiquenhons that was seen in CMA, for example, was panguyang. It is the practice of making a food offering to a divine being, environmental spirits, and ancestral spirits before planting or fishing, to ask for good harvest and to give thanks for guaranteed protection from misfortune and harm. Panguyang is done again to show gratitude after harvest, whether bountiful or not. In both instances, members of the community partake of the offered food, as they, too, are seen as helpful partners in livelihood.

Another is the practice of consulting the babaylan, community healers who are also respected elders, in decision-making. Whether building a house, getting married, or having a child baptized, one seeks the advice of the babaylan, asking them to mediate in making offerings to the spirits. Again, Ramirez pointed out that local belief systems should be respected because “we can only help them articulate, but the communities must always be the lead because those are their stories to tell. Who are we to contradict their cultural heritage?”

From Antique to the whole of Panay and Guimaras

Antique is only one of the four provinces in Panay Island, the other three being Aklan, Capiz, and Iloilo. And those four make up most of Region VI or Western Visayas, where the other two provinces are Guimaras and Negros Occidental. With CMPG following CMA, almost the whole region will be culturally mapped.

CMA was coursed through the Department of Education (DepEd)-Division of Antique, which was given funds in the 2019 general appropriations. “But cultural mapping was not a usual task for teachers and undertaking the project was overwhelming for them,” Ramirez explained. This is why, apart from Legarda’s office and DepEd Antique, CMA also involved NCCA for cultural mapping know-how, ����̽̽ Visayas for research and publication expertise, and the Provincial Government of Antique for logistical support, especially since the work started and was done in the middle of a pandemic riddled with lockdowns and travel restrictions.

Despite the challenges of online training, COVID-19 testing, securing medical clearances, getting insurance, navigating harsh mountain terrains, and possible red-tagging, the CMA team, including the 90 cultural mappers composed of elementary and high school teachers, and Ramon Ramirez who had the unenviable but necessary task of photo documentation in remote communities, pulled through. In November 2022, the 21-volume Duna, Kinaiya, kag Paranublion (A Cultural Inventory of the Province of Antique) was launched. Seven of the 21 books contained uniquely Antiquenhon folklore and songs.

CMPG, originally intended to run for two years with funding from the 2023 general appropriations, will only have 2024 to do field and editorial work as the budget only became available in the third quarter of 2023. This time, ����̽̽V has partnered with seven state universities, and eight government agencies and offices to conduct the massive cultural mapping of 98 municipalities and three cities across four provinces. Discussions for Negros Occidental to complete the cultural mapping of the region have begun as well.

In August 2023, signed into law was Republic Act No. 11961, An Act Strengthening the Conservation and Protection of Philippine Cultural Heritage through Cultural Mapping and Enhanced Cultural Heritage Education Program, Amending for the Purpose Republic Act No. 10066, Otherwise Known as the “National Cultural Heritage Act of 2009”. Local government units (LGUs) have been mandated to conduct comprehensive cultural mapping of their areas of jurisdiction and maintain inventories of their cultural properties and natural properties of cultural significance.

Beyond cultural mapping

While the creation of a cultural map, by itself a comprehensive and visual cultural heritage registry, is the end product of cultural mapping, it is also a tool to be used for community development by local governments, policymakers, educational institutions, and citizens.

It can guide the creation of programs to preserve and protect environments and populations of endemic and critically endangered flora and fauna. It can provide indispensable information for disaster risk reduction and management initiatives. As it has begun in Antique, it can enrich education through contextualized cultural information. Higher education institutions can use cultural data to conduct further research and contribute to knowledge creation.

For the community and its people, a cultural map of the documented past and the practiced present asserts a sense of self that allows them to confidently determine how to shape their future.

Email the author at upforum@up.edu.ph.

Read more articles from the ����̽̽ FORUM

Read more about activism in ����̽̽ via these links:

• From Placards to Memes
• ����̽̽’s Tradition of Protest Music
• Activism and ����̽̽’s mandate of public service
• We encourage activism. . . because we care.
• On the Screen and in the Streets: Student Activism during the COVID 19 Lockdowns
• The Evolution of an Activist

“The wall is alive. It continually evolves, reflecting the nation’s pressing concerns.”
Ides Josepina D. Macapanpan

For ten years now, artistic expression and social activism materialize in a form of a mural with the help of students from the College of Fine Arts (CFA) in the ����̽̽ (����̽̽) Diliman. This dynamic canvas for change stands as a visual testament to the collective voice of the students, serving as a commentary on pressing social issues and showcasing the power of collective action to provoke thought and inspire dialogue within the University.

Ides Josepina D. Macapanpan, an Instructor in ����̽̽ Baguio and a member of Artist Circle and UgatLahi, says that activist murals is a form of public art; it conveys messages related to social, political, environmental, or cultural issues with the intention of raising awareness, inspiring change, and fostering community engagement. They address topics such as human rights, justice, equality, and environmental sustainability. Furthermore, the collaboration in these murals challenges the individualistic approach prevalent in the academic art scene.

History of the Fine Arts (FA) Wall

As recounted by Patreng Non, the initiator of the Community Pantry and an alumna of Artist Circle and the CFA Student Council, before the initiative had even begun, there was a freedom wall for freshmen to express themselves through graffiti and doodles. As these works were spontaneous and unplanned, they often tended to be poorly executed or hastily done.

Dean Florentina Colayco spearheaded the removal of graffiti on all the walls in CFA by painting over them. The Gerilya artist collective was among the first few to redefine the said FA wall. The wall is now more purposeful, and progressive sentiments are now seen straightaway with their “Maki-Usisa, Makibaka, Makilahok” work.

Later on, extrajudicial killings on lumads, followed by the massacre of farmers in Kidapawan, Cotabato, became prevalent. The students seized this opportunity to use the main wall to create a commentary on the issue. Through collaborative efforts of the CFA student council and organizations such as Alay Sining and UgatLahi, alongside the fraternity and sorority of Artist Circle, they crafted a visual narrative as a response. The paintings from that point onward were carefully planned and improved through further collaboration with professors, like Leonilo ‘Neil’ Doloricon and Joey Tañedo, who offered critical insights into design and composition.

This new FA Wall exposed fellow students, as well as the community with the University, to the prevalent issues in the country, and became a starting point of discussions.

Role of ����̽̽

From Macapanpan’s perspective, ����̽̽ plays a crucial role in providing a free space for art with progressive sentiments. Placed prominently along the street, the murals are easily visible to the public, and their presence within the ����̽̽ institution implies support for the statements they make. ����̽̽ does not censor or gatekeep but protects both the artwork and students’ freedom of speech from vandalism and bias.

Luigi Almuena, a member of Artist Circle and UgatLahi, emphasizes that these murals go beyond mere advocacy; they embody activism through their underlying ideology. Unlike safer and more indirect forms of advocacy, the murals are a hands-on approach to addressing issues and struggles faced by the marginalized in society.

The initiative is open to all ����̽̽ students, and not restricted to Fine Arts majors. Anyone can join the effort, fostering a sense of inclusivity and collaboration in the pursuit of artistic activism. The wall is kept alive as long as there are volunteers who give voice to the voiceless and make the marginalized and injustices visible.

The Murals

Email the author at upforum@up.edu.ph.

Read more articles from the ����̽̽ FORUM

Read more about activism in ����̽̽ via these links:

• From Placards to Memes
• ����̽̽’s Tradition of Protest Music
• Activism and ����̽̽’s mandate of public service
• We encourage activism. . . because we care.
• On the Screen and in the Streets: Student Activism during the COVID 19 Lockdowns
• The Evolution of an Activist

Since 2011, the Philippines has been outranking all other countries as the most at-risk, in terms of exposure to natural hazards and societal capacity to respond, according to the World Risk Index. Being typhoon-prone, the country experiences super typhoons bringing strong winds and intense rainfall that ravage affected communities by destroying houses, properties, crops, livestock, and infrastructure, and resulting in numerous casualties, displacement of families, and economic loss that impoverishes more people every year.

Flooding, landslides, and storm surges usually result in mass casualties, such as what happened with super typhoons: Yolanda (Haiyan, 2013), more than 6,000 dead in the Central Philippine Region; Pablo (Bopha, 2012), more than 500 dead in New Bataan, Compostela Valley; Sendong (Washi, 2011), more than 1,260 dead in Cagayan de Oro and Iligan; and Ondoy (Ketsana, 2009), more than 465 dead in Metro Manila. The costliest typhoons have caused damages amounting to several billions of US dollars: Yolanda (Haiyan, 2013), 2.2 billion USD; Odette (Rai, 2021), 1.02 billion USD; Pablo (Bopha, 2012), 1.06 billion USD; Glenda (Rammasun, 2014), 771 million USD; and Ompong (Mangkhut, 2018), 627 million USD. On the other hand, timely government interventions have resulted to “averted disasters”, wherein affected communities had zero casualty, or minimal deaths, in spite of high risks due to hazards.

Preparedness saves lives

While the frequency and strength of typhoons that hit the Philippines during the past decade did not decrease, the overall fatalities per year were reduced by about 75 percent due to combined interventions by stakeholders across all sectors of society, according to Dr. Alfredo Mahar Francisco A. Lagmay, Executive Director of the ����̽̽ Resilience Institute (����̽̽ RI). Based on counterfactual evidence, in the past ten years there were an estimated 6,750 lives that were saved from hazards during severe weather conditions. Lagmay noted that the average deaths due to typhoons would have remained above 1,000 every year, based on 1986 to 2013 data, without climate change adaptation (CCA) and disaster risk reduction (DRR) interventions. Since 2014, that number decreased to about 250 deaths per year. .

There are testimonies of such positive results from government officials. In video messages aired during the last December 5, two local government unit (LGU) heads praised the University’s DRR efforts.

Balanga, Bataan Mayor Francis Anthony S. Garcia said that when Typhoon Glenda (Rammasun) hit the country in 2014, they were able to use information from NOAH to prevent the loss of lives and properties. Quezon City Mayor Ma. Josefina “Joy” Belmonte’s message was on the city’s partnership with the ����̽̽ RI in formulating the city’s drainage masterplan to ensure that floodwater would flow to the tributaries, thereby helping the city government minimize risks due to floods.

From climate change to climate justice: Global challenges at hand

. The 28th Conference of the Parties to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (COP28) was held in Dubai from November 30 to December 12.

The UN Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) of the United Nations has repeatedly warned that climate-related risks to health, livelihood, food security, water supply, human security, and economic growth are projected to .

Calls for urgent climate action, CCA, DRR and climate justice, have come from both international and national multi-sectoral organizations.

“Climate justice” focuses on addressing the global environmental crisis using justice and human rights frameworks, with the assertion that developed countries, specifically their corporations and their governments, are the most accountable and should, therefore, be held responsible for the severe impacts of climate change, i.e. climate change mitigation, climate finance, and adaptation. On the other hand, developing nations, like the Philippines, need the most support, being the most severely affected and disadvantaged.

A great imperative

The ����̽̽ (����̽̽), as the national university, also plays a leadership role in climate action.

At the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) University Leaders’ Forum held in San Francisco, California, on November 13, ����̽̽ President Angelo A. Jimenez raised the question: What can our universities do to fight or mitigate climate change? He also said that facing the global threats due to climate change, and ultimately, fighting for climate justice, could be the greatest moral imperative of our time. This forum was organized by the University of California-Davis, the University of California-Santa Cruz, and the Association of Pacific Rim Universities (APRU).

Jimenez remarked, “the Philippines, which has contributed less than one percent to global Green House Gases emissions, is among the top five countries considered most vulnerable to climate risks. About 60 percent of our people live in coastal towns and villages, for whom a sea rise of one to two meters will be calamitous.”

Jimenez reiterated the call for all sectors, especially those in the academe, to come together for greater climate action. “Let us work together to amplify our impact, inspire change, promote transformative education, and usher in an era where investing in tomorrow’s biodiversity is not just a choice but an inescapable responsibility for all,” he said.

“Aside from measures to save and repair the planet, climate justice involves social justice, in that it must empower the most vulnerable victims of climate change to articulate their concerns, demand accountability, and seek proper redress for their grievances,” furthered Jimenez.

The ����̽̽ President also asserted that green transition must be just and transformative, and lead to a better life for the communities. Government and industries must ensure that their workers and communities are not unduly displaced while transitioning to green industries; and these changes must lead to a low-carbon and climate-resilient economy.

����̽̽’s climate action hub

����̽̽ contributes in many ways to climate change mitigation and adaptation through the ����̽̽ RI, which serves as a proactive hub which aims “to empower local communities through multidisciplinary actions toward resilience”. Faculty members and researchers, together with partner national government agencies, local government units (LGUs), and various organizations continuously work with local communities, from planning to implementation and
completion of their programs. They also make their data and researches accessible and more useful to the public.

As ����̽̽’s proactive hub for CCA-DRR, the ����̽̽ RI works with its partners for the production and dissemination of knowledge products; engages in data collection and mapping projects; conducts trainings, forums, and conferences; facilitates the development and implementation of master plans, and many other activities to promote resiliency.

The ����̽̽ RI launched the Basics of Resilience Online Courses, in collaboration with the ����̽̽ Open University (����̽̽OU) Faculty of Management & Development Studies on December 5. These online courses are designed for crises managers, CCA-DRR practitioners, and other partners and stakeholders.

Another milestone event was the (PASCDR) held in ����̽̽ Diliman on October 25 to 27, wherein the importance of undertaking research and resilience-building in communities was again emphasized. Around 300 participants representing higher education institutions from all over the Philippines joined in the discussions. The theme was “From Discourses to Actions: Mobilizing the Academe for Disaster Risk Reduction and Climate Change Adaptation and Mitigation”. Dr. Emmanuel M. Luna, who served as ����̽̽ RI’s Director for Education, was elected president of PASCDR.

The ����̽̽ RI also hosts webinars, trainings, forums, and conferences. One such webinar is “Resilience Live”. In the episode “The Role of Universities in Anticipatory Planning: A Systems Approach to Climate Change Action”, . “SUCs play a significant role in promoting sustainable growth and economic development (and resiliency) in all cities and municipalities of the entire country,” said ����̽̽ RI Executive Director Lagmay.

One example of ����̽̽ RI’s trainings for ����̽̽ Constituent Units and partner educational institutions was the for the College of Social Sciences and Philosophy (CSSP), ����̽̽ Diliman on August 17 to 18.

Another activity of the ����̽̽ RI was with the Philippine Social Science Council (PSSC) on its from July 27 to 29. The event gathered around 300 participants, including social scientists, experts, researchers, academics, policymakers, legislators, local officials, development workers, and members of donor agencies and civil society organizations.

Attaining climate justice

The goal of attaining climate justice can be summed-up as attaining what is needed by the people and their communities, for them to be able to mitigate the impacts of climate change, to be able to adapt, and to become more resilient in the face of worsening natural hazard impacts “so that we can develop and attain our sustainable development goals despite all of these,” said Lagmay. He affirmed that countries and industries that are most accountable for global warming and greenhouse gases emissions should provide the needed resources, including information, tools and technologies to the countries that are most affected by climate change.

“To be able to reduce poverty, to have enough food, good health. . . that is justice,” he said.

“We will have to live with all of these natural hazards or impacts. We will have to live with climate change. Our lives will change, and we will have to adapt,” Lagmay concluded.

Email the author at upforum@up.edu.ph.

Read more articles from the ����̽̽ FORUM

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• Activism and ����̽̽’s mandate of public service
• On the Screen and in the Streets: Student Activism during the COVID 19 Lockdowns

Read more about climate change initiatives and activities in ����̽̽ via these links:

• ����̽̽ on Climate Action (Sustainable Development Goal # 13)
• Green ����̽̽: A ����̽̽ System Action Plan for Environmental Sustainability
• Vulnerability assessment of coastal areas in Davao Gulf to climate-related hazards mapped
• ����̽̽RI convenes DRR and climate change experts from all CUs
• ����̽̽ Resilience Institute gets own home