FEATURE  

With a face full of despondency, Aling Margarita recalled the day OceanaGold employees reached out to her to propose what seemed to be an honest to goodness agreement with the multinational gold mining company. 

 

It was 1994. Fidel Ramos, then president, made the Philippines highly accessible to foreign trade and investments to address the debt problems caused by the downward economic shift after ex-President Ferdinand Marcos’ ouster. 

 

Aling Margarita was one of the original landowners in Barangay Didipio in Kasibu, Nueva Vizcaya and she was the first one to sell her land to OceanaGold. For her, it was an opportunity for the barangay to undergo development, something that was somehow far-fetched for a barangay located 40 kilometers away from Kasibu’s municipality proper.

 

Didipio, however, was known for its abundance of gold, copper, and other minerals. Long before OceanaGold excavated its land through open-pit mining, its locals and miners from nearby provinces were already conducting small-scale mining. It was their primary source of income. 

 

Manong Akino, one of the resident miners, moved to Didipio in 1976 in hopes to earn a living through mining gold. Mining gold, however, was a gamble. Each day, miners risk their lives to extract gold with no assurance if they could. They were simply going in blind. Despite the abundance of the mineral, miners during that time lacked proper equipment. It meant that there were days when they would get lucky to get enough to provide for a week’s needs and there were days when they would go home without enough to buy a day’s meals. 

 

Foreigners, mga puti, as Aling Margarita called them, went to her house and introduced themselves as Paul Joyce and Carlos Milagria, along with Philip Nepomuceno, a Filipino who helped the two parties communicate properly, to present OceanaGold’s proposal. OceanaGold guaranteed that it will help the community prosper by providing them jobs in the company and benefits such as free education to their family members in exchange for their lands. 

 

Tutulungan ng kumpanya ang mga tao kaya tulungan din daw namin sila. 

 

It brought hope to Aling Margarita and other landowners in Didipio. Everything OceanaGold offered was worth it regardless if the landowners were to sell their lands for only ₱3.85 per square meter. The company was offering them lifetime stability. It was an offer they could not turn down. 

 

Initially, the community felt indebted to OceanaGold. Families had a stable source of income because many members of the community started working for the company. Indeed, OceanaGold was a beacon of hope. 

 

Or so they thought. A few years after, OceanaGold gradually began showing its true nature. Martin, a mechanical maintenance worker for the company, was one of the workers to witness it. At first, OceanaGold workers started complaining about not receiving their wages on time. After, their privileges, such as food, became limited. Martin sharply recalled the days when they were only provided one meal a day. Eventually, things became worse for the local workers when OceanaGold started hiring workers from Manila, who Martin claimed to have received higher wages, free food and lodging, and even travel privileges. 

 

Door-to-door silang hinahatid sa Maynila, binu-book pa [ng kumpanya] ang ticket nila pauwi sa Visayas, Mindanao. May one day travel sila, bayad ‘yon. 

 

These circumstances prompted the local workers to establish unions to demand the company to release their wages and to give them equal treatment as the ‘manila-hires’. 

 

Instead of addressing its workers’ pleas, OceanaGold immediately dismissed Martin and other union members from their job posts and filed a case of union busting against them. 

 

Aling Margarita herself witnessed OceanaGold’s sudden change of nature. The locals may have sold their lands to the company, but they left a small portion of it to sustain their farms that served as the non-company members’ livelihood. Included in this small portion of communal land was a narrow river that extends to the local’s farmlands serving for irrigation and household use. 

 

OceanaGold showed no remorse when they filled the river with boulders and debris. Chemical contents from the open-pit also replaced the previously clear river turning it into a murky brown color with a stench locals compared to spoiled sardines. The smell was unbearable and the locals never got used to it. These left the locals to find other sources of clean water for irrigation and household tasks, clearly something they weren’t ready for. 

 

One day, Aling Margarita’s husband was on his way to their farm to check their crops and gather firewood. With his bolo in hand, he was making his way towards the farm when OceanaGold security personnel stopped him in his tracks. 

 

Bakit, anong kasalanan ko sa inyo? Pupuntahan ko lang ang mga tanim ko. 

 

Her husband felt frightened at the time but he was assertive. He knew his rights. The security personnel proceeded to tell him that he was prohibited to do so and shoved him to the ground, face first. The security personnel then bound his hands behind him, and out of fear of being hit by their guns, he let go of his bolo. 

 

Aling Margarita’s husband was sent to the barangay hall, face-down, with hands bound behind his back, and mud-covered body indicating the struggle he went through with more than two OceanaGold security personnel. The security personnel then justified their actions by accusing him of attempting to use his bolo to attack them, and he was arrested for attempted homicide. 

 

Nagsinungaling sila, hindi nila sinabi ang totoo. 

 

Manong Luis, a resident of Ifugao who transferred to Barangay Alimit, a nearby barangay, in search of a bigger farmland to tend to, confirmed other locals’ claims. As a farmer, he was teary-eyed when he reminisced the times his family was able to earn enough by being a primary source of vegetables and palay. When OceanaGold came, however, his crops started to degrade in quality due to the chemicals from the river, his crops’ main source of irrigation.

 

Aside from all these, OceanaGold caused chaos between family members. It caused a divide between those who benefit from the company and those who do not. What was a previously harmonious community turned into clashing clans, another crack in the community land.

 

Throughout the years, aggrieved locals protested against OceanaGold and even held human barricades along the entrance to the community to impede the company’s operations at the least. With the help of peoples’ organizations, they filed petitions to shut down OceanaGold, especially when its contract ended in 2019. The Philippine government continues to be unresponsive. Union leaders are continuously harassed, threatened, and even killed by unknown assailants.  

  

Without a doubt, words are not enough for the massive destruction OceanaGold caused to Didipio and its nearby communities. Since 1994, their lives have become an everyday struggle.  

 

Amid all these, locals are now left to fend for themselves as the COVID-19 pandemic further threatens their lives. With people restricted to their homes, OceanaGold seemingly seized the opportunity to operate freely and hid its true nature by giving donations to the locals. Some locals were thankful, but most were insulted. OceanaGold annually extracts more than 20,000 ounces of gold and other minerals from their lands and the thought of donations to hide that was incredibly ridiculous. Barangays Didipio and Alimit were also flooded after consecutive typhoons hit the country leaving its residents fearing for their lives if the nearby Tailing Dam bursts. 

 

Ginto ang hinuhukay nila diyan, kahit man sana tanso ang sasahurin at hindi ‘yong kalawang lang ang napupunta sa amin. 

 

Dapat ang mga Pilipino ang nakikinabang sa mga resources natin. 

 

As the locals continue their struggle to shut down OceanaGold, they also tirelessly call for help from the government and other human and environmental rights organizations. 

 

It is not wrong to hold the government accountable for OceanaGold’s continued operations, since they do have the power to shut it down and prioritize the rights and welfare of Didipio’s and Alimit’s locals. 

 

As indifferent as those in power may seem, Aling Margarita, along with other locals, vow to continue to fight for their land, may it be until their last breath. #

 

Story from 'Didipio' by Pinoy Media Center from the National Fact Finding and Solidarity Mission by Defend Patrimony Alliance and Alyansa ng Nagkakaisang Novo Vizcayanos para sa Kalikasan, 2013.