by Kweyn, DAKILA Metro Manila-Rizal Collective
It was back in 2009, the last time I set foot in the vibrant province of South Cotabato. After my grandmother’s passing, I never had the chance to revisit her hometown. At the very young age of seven, all that amuses me are tall buildings, not the healing scenery of mountains and rivers; the luminance of city lights, not the light from the moon; different tastes in music, not those of nature; and, finally, the threads I always compare—those that are branded with big names and those that are not. I have blurred memories of what I’ve seen in those times. The only thing that remains vivid to me is the unmistakable sound of water from the creek outside our backyard, the water that once flowed freely, alive in its movement—yet now, is dead. It made me realize the heavy burden my parents carried as they ventured into the vastness of life in Metro Manila. This environment alienates them from the home they call their ‘land.’
My parents were both born and raised in the neighboring provinces of Zamboanga Sibugay and South Cotabato—places I’ve always wanted to visit. I’ve never experienced attending a family reunion that introduces me to the generations and lineage of our family. I suppose it would take privilege to unpack those stories. I wish I could gather them all and see whose features I’ve inherited and whose attitudes are like mine. I packed these questions with me during a week spent with women environmental defenders—each from a different generation. And what’s striking is that I met women my age who bear the heavy responsibility of protecting their ancestral home, their environment, and the deep roots of resilience and strength that have shaped their lives.
I never expected to have that one precious opportunity to return to the land I had once crossed on our way to my mother’s hometown more than a decade ago. I never knew that a rich and thriving community of T’boli could be found just two municipalities away from our home. What I know about reunions is that they are gatherings of relatives and people whose family names are interconnected. However, I began to think again—these women I stayed with were not my relatives, nor am I deeply rooted in their history. Yet, they opened their welcoming hearts and allowed me to be part of their celebration—their unifying stories of persistence. My world somehow shifted as I beheld a paradise I wished to take home or paint so I could never forget the details of its beauty—the rare moment when heaven and earth seemed to collide before my very eyes. Lake Sebu, home to the Indigenous T’boli community, carries the legacy of ancestors who endured a long journey of survival and preservation, unlike the community of mixed cultures I inhabited for a long time. Now, I reflect on some alienating practices I thought were helping me cultivate my identity in the cityhood. I found myself unlearning the life I knew and grasping a history that is both present and alive.
Our little conversations are one for the books as I commit to listening and hearing their diaries. As I found comfort, we didn’t realize we were sharing laughs and jokes like old friends who just met again after long years. The conversations felt like coming home. Language can be challenging, but as long as I find a safe space, our kind of love language will be genuine empathy and affirmation. Journey and reflections were heard as we harmonized our moments with sounds and motions, beats from the hearts of talented musicians, and danced as they spoke to signify the deep-rooted values of their community. I am honored to share the floor with them as we sway gracefully in the upbeat melody they produce from the wood, metal, and strings. I’ve captured and recorded those precious times so I can easily remember and go back at them.
From music to threads, we witnessed the firm discipline of the Dreamweavers as they created patterns and designs that symbolically narrated their culture and pursuit of true happiness. Their relentless commitment to nourishing the next generation’s consciousness made me appreciate the importance of education taught at home. Their resourcefulness lies in their knowledge of how to appreciate what the environment and nature have provided, and so they continue protecting it. As I pondered, adorned with the earrings and garments they crafted, I realized it takes a life of dignity to genuinely wear such creations. I would have to carefully wear their representation of the preserved life and traditions.
A week spent with young women environmental defenders and the great teachers of our land—women who are survivors of oppression, they restored hope in me that I will always carry. The ancestral land they are defending is a home to many, a home for all of us. The music they continue to produce and perform is a balm for the wounded hearts scarred by the nightmares of the past. Their work reminded me that environmental rights are deeply personal and necessary, not just for them, but for all of us who depend on the land and its future.
As I met the Dreamweavers, I realized that we are all interconnected by the roots that have grown in different lands. Those roots remind us of our shared responsibility to listen, to learn, and to stand with the women defending our home. And when those roots sprout strong and appear resilient, they show just how far we’ve come—and how much further we can go, together.
Kweyn is a queer, trans-nonbinary community organizer and the Communications Director of the DAKILA Metro Manila-Rizal collective. She actively volunteers in climate and gender justice campaigns, focusing on urban poor communities where she grew up. Currently, she is exploring ways to integrate her lived experiences as a young queer organizer into efforts for social transformation and liberation.
Project Makiling: An Initiative for Young Women Environment Defenders is a project of DAKILA and WE-Defend that aims to advance the leadership of young women environmental defenders in the Philippines.
DAKILA – Philippine Collective for Modern Heroism is an organization of artists, cultural and development activists, students, young professionals, and individuals creatively building a movement of heroism toward social transformation.