DAVAO CITY, Philippines—She riffled through the pages of the Inquirer,
her hand steady and careful, and hurriedly flipped back to the front
page and stared at the photos.

Bae Bibiyaon Likayan Bigkay recognized the images: the man was “Pek’yeo”
while the woman between two Indian officials was “Ori’yeo.”

Slowly chewing a betel nut—traces of being a longtime partner evident in
her lips—the Ata-Manobo chieftain from the hinterlands of Bukidnon said
she admired Pek’yeo because the man fought well. Pek’yeo is Filipino
boxing champion Manny Pacquiao, whom she saw on television in Davao City
several months ago.

She’s not afraid of him, she said, and would even willingly face him in
the ring for a match. With a bland smile, she said, Pek’yeo might have
strong punches but nothing could beat her arrows.

From a bitter derision as she talked of how to beat Pek’yeo came a
chafed indignation over Ori’yeo, or President Macapagal-Arroyo.

‘Limbungan’

“If I get to meet her, I will confront her and tell her that she’s the
reason many “lumad” (indigenous peoples) in the hinterlands do not have
food, why we suffer from poverty … why many of us have lost access to
our ancestral lands … why many of us have gone into hiding … why many
of us have lost their loved ones,” Bigkay said through an interpreter.

“She’s a big reason for all these sufferings,” the old woman said in an
interview at a human rights center in Davao City recently. She stiffened
and walked toward the glass windows.

Bigkay described the President as “limbungan” (cheater).

“She’s taken advantage of the people, especially the lumad. Look at
her—she’s so rich—while we cannot even go to our farms and till the land
without fear that the military will again suspect us of supporting the
rebels, thus putting our lives in danger,” Bigkay said in her native tongue.

That she is dauntlessly confrontational when provoked and passionate
about fighting for the rights of her people come along Bigkay’s being a
bibiyaon or a woman tribal leader. It was a responsibility bequeathed to
her by the Ata-Manobo elders when she was still a child. (This was the
time when she convinced the elders to let her borrow a horse in behalf
of her father, a negotiation carried out only by matured men.)

Now, she is one of the few women lumad leaders who is respected not only
for her wisdom but also for being a fearless warrior. She punctuates
this prominence by never failing to be at the forefront of her people’s
opposition to government projects that are deemed destructive to their
ancestral lands.

Pantaron Range

Thrice a week, Bigkay gathers the people of her small village of
Natulinan in San Fernando, Bukidnon, to discuss how to keep their
defenses strong against mining and plantation companies. Central topic
is how to keep the Pantaron Range free from “foreign intrusion.”

“Pantaron is what is left to us. Without it, we will have nowhere to
go,” she said as she described the land still rich with fauna and flora,
including herbs that the people use as medicine.

Bigkay recalled how, as a little girl, she would dare go to Pantaron to
hunt with her uncle. Sometimes, she said, she would stay there for many
months.

Alamara

But the woman warrior is also wanted by the Alamara, a paramilitary
group of Ata-Manobos allegedly funded by the military and other tribal
leaders who do not share her stand. She said she often moved around the
community and into the forest, where she is most protected.

The Alamara has also become a ruthless group going after suspected
supporters of communist rebels.

What concerns Bigkay more than herself is that her people might shed
blood again as what happened to her niece who died several months ago
when Alamara members looking for her fired at a hinterland school in
Bukidnon.

People close to Bigkay claim that she is in the military’s battle list
on suspicion of supporting the New People’s Army, along with other lumad
leaders Datu Guibang Apoga and Datu Duloman Dawsay.

Bigkay said that the presence of soldiers had always been the
community’s problem as they prevent residents from doing their usual
farming and other activities.

And because her farm is spacious, she said, the military would always
regard her as “farming to feed the rebels.”

Logging days

The government has been watching her, she admitted, being one of the few
remaining lumad leaders who are critical of its “development” projects.

She cited the experience of the Ata-Manobos at the time of the giant
logging company, Alcantara and Sons (Alsons). “They’ve (company owners)
abused the mountains, leaving us with almost nothing at all. They have
abused the land, our ancestral home. What they have already destroyed
can no longer be restored. Now, look at us … look at our children,” she
said.

Mining and other agricultural development projects are “maruot” (ugly),
she said. Despite their many faces, these will never get her approval or
that of the people who have already seen the destruction they have
brought to them.

“I will die fighting for our land against those who only desire to get
its resources and destroy it. If I, as bibiyaon, will allow them to
desecrate the mountain again, it will mean that I have also allowed the
destruction of my people because the mountain is our home, it is our
life,” Bigkay said.

Ipra

She cited as an example how the government sold out lumad land to
investors using the legal instrument that is supposed to protect their
rights—the Indigenous People’s Rights Act (Ipra). The development
thrusts are packaged as the Ancestral Domain Sustainable Development
Priorities Plan (ADSDPP).

The law, signed on Oct. 29, 1997, by then President Fidel V. Ramos,
facilitated government interventions when ancestral lands have already
been formally titled, Bigkay said. Government representatives have
convinced other lumad leaders to enter into agreements with businessmen
interested in turning their areas into banana and pineapple plantations
or mining sites.

“This is the very reason I hate this law. It never served its purpose
but instead it facilitated the oppression of the indigenous people,” she
said.

Now, Bigkay is among the tribal leaders in Bukidnon, Talaingod and other
areas in the Davao provinces, North Cotabato and Agusan who are blocking
moves to include their lands into areas whose formal titling is being
processed by the National Commission for the Indigenous Peoples (NCIP).

Tribal leaders, who met in Davao City recently, stormed the office of
the NCIP-Southern Mindanao and lodged their complaints over the
inutility of Ipra and how it had actually worked against them.

Roque Agton, director of NCIP-Southern Mindanao, said his office aimed
to deliver to the lumad their lands by issuing titles to them. “Their
lands are very vulnerable to the same developments that they are
opposing if their lands are not titled,” he said.