On the situation of the Philippine coastal reefs

Albeit we urge ourselves to preserve our aquatic resources in each waking hour, we still heavily sense the weight of the economy’s constant decline. Stealthily, we are losing the battle, defeated by the immensity of our own personal concerns. We recognize the foreshadowing of the unrelenting inevitable: the successive loss of our reserves is being unveiled right before our eyes. One day, all of these might just disappear.

We revert as pieces in a chess board when it comes to the protection of our aquatic resources. The whole world is just waiting for us to make a move, one independent step on the checkered arena. The few starting exchanges have been presented by foreigners: Germans, who generously exerted magnanimous effort to guide us pawns to protect the king reserves. Laid out for us the blueprint in the most convenient way imaginable – in our native tongue – to continue, if we dare.

And we ought to. The sea, with its crashing waves ushering in a new form of aquatic life, has shaped the community for the longest time. We all depend on it. Now, the community, in itself, needs to shape it. The life underneath the surfaces lies in our hands. We cannot rely on false enthusiasms created by political warfare. We look after what is given us: the simple gems that keep us afloat with our coastal identity – the ones which power we do not entirely understand until clarified further; like the humble mangrove that has the ability to avert the ugly realities of nature.

Our bay needs protection. I know people who call it their life; their livelihood. We, as consumers, ought to treat it as our sidekick: our partner in human survival. Knowing that there are people out there who care, who, without getting the proper training, know what Coastal Resource Management takes brings a warm feeling into my core. It proves true that we can, someday, stand on our own, that we will soon be the ones walking the walk and talking the talk. It is only a matter of time before we readily launch ourselves to prove it.

What we have is eventually too much for one person. For a select group of people, even. Estrangement welcomes the idea of disunity. What we need are hands of diverse backgrounds that would be willing to link together in the face of disparity. Seven thousand islands – who would take heed? Those who will notice and take time to act will be those very hands. They are the very bold who will conquer the fight towards preservation and fortification.

So, all these resources – the fish, the coasts, the mangroves – we cannot let them disappear; instead, we imagine a future bettered for, if not because of, them: with bodies of water, beginning with Iligan and Maribojok, flourishing with more than what constitutes them now. With the gangrene of anxiety extinguished from the minds of the enduring fisherman and the diligent merchant. With the livelihood that directly points to these resources stabilized as the cornerstone would a house. With the serenity encompassing the salty water accompanied by the sweet sound of native bongos. We need to see this. We cannot lose the battle; we have to keep on charging.