Resilience, key to improved sanitation:The story of Bagumbayan

Not even the threat of decades-old conflict
can stop a remote village in North Cotabato from achieving total sanitation.

September 2017, North Cotabato — Vanessa Sailama, municipal health inspector and a longtime resident of the southwestern village (barangay) of Bagumbayan in Tulonan, North Cotabato, lamented the death of camote (sweet potato) blooms that used to adorn and outline its streets.

The locals planted the camote blooms in time for the visit of the judges for the Department of Health’s Nationwide Search for Barangays with Best Sanitation Practices (NSBBSP), where they would later win. But the blooms wilted because of the dry spell that started way before summer.

Still, Sailama was glad the daisies and magnolias survived. In the middle of a chat by her neighbor’s front yard, she plucked an old daisy, broke the pods apart, and scattered across the yard. “Give it time and we’ll see much more of them grow.”

Like the flowers that lived through the merciless heat of the earlier months, Bagumbayan, a former conflict-afflicted zone where residents have subsisted largely on farming, remained standing. Rice farmers failed to yield anything from two cropping seasons. Irrigation canals had run dry. Locals scrambled as water pumps could only cough up little water, if at all.

Still standing

But their optimism and resourcefulness never waned.

In the fields, farmers and farm workers replaced rice with low maintenance crops like watermelon to make both ends meet while the drought had dragged on. Even when rains have poured and other farmers have started planting rice seedlings, Remia Polines settled for growing eggplants. “Mas malaki ang kita (We get to earn more),” she said. “Three days lang, meron nang maa-ani (We get to harvest eggplants every three days).”

Meanwhile, in the houses, families strive to keep every room, including their adjacent toilets, clean. Every family owns a functional, sanitary toilet with a ceramic bowl, cemented or graveled flooring, and a proper air vent and septic tank. All kitchens have sinks. They improvised hand washing stations made out of plastic gallons.

But achieving this level of sanitation was no easy feat.

Bagumbayan’s sanitation problems

The main challenge lies in Tulonan’s social and economic landscape. “About 90 percent of our residents do farming. This village is predominantly agricultural. Very few of our residents are professionals,” said Mr. Ricardo Herosa, village captain.

Hence, days in this village have always started even before it starts to get light. As the sun rose, everyone would begin treading the jagged path on the way to the farm lots. Wives would join their husbands in tilling and looking after the land. “Wala kaming masyadong makukunan ng pera kung isa lang ang magtatrabaho (We won’t be able to make both ends meet if only one of us will work),” said farm worker Analyn Canoy.

And because all adults in the family had to work at the farm the whole day to make both ends meet, their attitudes towards sanitation used to be cavalier. Herosa recalled, “Dati, lalo na sa remote areas namin, dudumi sila doon lang sa kanal. Yung iba, dudumi sa maisan (Way before, people, especially in the remote corners of the village would defecate along the canals. Some would relieve themselves in cornfields).”

Life at the center of conflict

At a tender age, she experienced how it is to live at the center of conflict, particularly of a decades-old infighting between Moro and Christian settlers over a 100-hectare farmland: “Bakante ang lupa ng mga Moro noon. Tapos may [inhabitants] na nanghinayang na hindi naku-cultivate ang lupa. Nung may nagtatanim na, saka nila binabawi, (The Moros’ land used to be bare. The inhabitants saw it as an opportunity to plant crops. When the crops had grown, the Moros went back to claim the contested land),” Sailama said.

Hence, at midnight, the sound of bursting bombs or raking gunfire would wake them up. After the gunfire subsided, Sailama’s mother would carry her and her siblings enfolded in a huge blanket. Along the rice fields, she would carefully pad her way to the nearest refuge: her mother, who lived along the highway.

Those with less luck had to settle in evacuation centers, where clean water was scant if at all available, and comfort rooms were few if at all existing.

Feeling her neighbor’s plight, she knew she had to do something for Bagumbayan and nearby communities embroiled in conflict when she grows up.

In the early 2000s, a multinational company expressed interest in renting the entire stretch of the Moros’ claimed landholdings. It bade peaceful times for the village.

The company entered an agreement with the Moro leaders. The agreement allowed the company to plant Cavendish bananas within the sprawling fields. “The Moro community,” Herosa said, “agreed rent the land to the company. The company also agreed to take the Moro residents in as farm workers.”

Currently, Bagumbayan is generally a quiet place. On the surface, no trace of war can be seen, heard, or felt along its vast meadows. At nighttime, the comforting silence would only be broken by the sound of cargo trucks that plod their way to the banana plantation.

With poverty and self-determination partly addressed, the conflict subsided. The next challenge, at least for Sailama, was to help banish open defecation and other old habits.

The game plan for sanitation

Upon knowing that Bagumbayan was to be nominated in the 2016 NSBBSP, Sailama spared no time. She knew she had to move fast to tackle Bagumbayan’s sanitation problems in a few months’ time: “I asked permission from the barangay council to give me permission to intervene, to knock at every house and check if they comply with sanitation standards. Sinuyod ko lahat: purok to purok, bahay to bahay, nanay to nanay (I went to every community, knocked at every door, and talked to every mother).”

Visiting one house after another, the main hurdle had become increasingly obvious: “Marami sa households, hindi makabili ng materyales. Ibibili na lang daw nila ng bigas (Most families said they’d rather buy rice than build a toilet).

Kaya ang sabi ko [sa Municipal Health Office], i-identify natin ang households na hindi makabili. Yun ang i-prioritize natin. (So I told the MHO: ‘let’s identify households with the least means to build a toilet. Let’s prioritize them.) “

The MHO proceeded to work out the funding. They solicited help from the local government unit, and to some extent, the national government, through Bottom-up Budgeting.

With substantial funding, all the recipient-residents should provide is the land on which the toilets will be built. The local government took care of the bowl, the PVC pipe, and half a bag of cement to cover the flooring for the standard size.

Former Tulonan Mayor Lani Candolada was very supportive, Sailama said. “Alam niyang malaki ang impact ng maayos na banyo. Kaysa ibili niya ng gamot na pang-diarrhea, mas mainam na iwasan na ang pagkakasakit. (She understood what difference it would make to build toilets for all households. It would be less costly to spend on preventive measures rather than on anti-diarrheal treatments).”

As soon as the materials were all in, the MHO immediately had them delivered to the recipients. Sailama thought she needed to treat the recipients with a bit of tough love to get things done.

Binigyan ko ng palugit na isang linggo,” she said. “Pag hindi pa mag-comply, babalikan namin para paalalahanan. Kailangan sa isang linggo, ma-comply mo na yan. Pag hindi pa rin nag-comply, papasok ang team [of construction workers paid through DSWD’s cash for work], sila na ang magtatayo ng CR (I gave them a one-week ultimatum. Whenever they didn’t comply, I would go back their houses and remind them. When they wouldn’t, still, I would let a team of construction workers do the construction).

Pagkagawa ng CR, sinisilip ko rin ang air vents. Pag hindi pasok sa standards, pinababaklas ko talaga, (Once the toilets were finished, I would check them down to the air vents. I’d tell them to dismantle the vent if it didn’t comply with the standards),” Sailama said.

Sailama’s efforts to improve sanitation in her own village have paid off. Their barangay won in this year’s NSBBSP, placing first among barangays with at least 200 households.

Off to greater challenges

After Bagumbayan, Sailama and the rest of the MHO are ready to take on her next task. Besides transforming other barangays into the next Bagumbayan and Damawato (an NBSBSP winner in 2013), she wanted to focus on improving water access and making zero open defecation happen in upland villages.

Incidentally, these villages face a bigger problem than access: they remain embroiled in armed conflict. Present in some of these barangays are armed groups like the Moro Islamic Liberation Front and the New People’s Army.

 “A few months ago nga meron na namang conflict sa may B’laan,” said Dr. Perez. Buti nakaalis na kami bago magsimula ang engkuwentro. Umabot daw yung bala sa kinatayuan naming (Months ago, an encounter ensued in B’laan. Good thing we were able to leave moments before. Gunfire reached the spot we were in).”

But to Sailama, such dangers are part of the job, and what matters at the end of the day, is ensuring the health and wellbeing of people in these areas. After all, she knew—from her village’s experience—that with access to clean water, people embroiled in conflict could survive and stand resilient, healthy, and dignified.

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A mother and her children pose in front of their newly installed sanitary toilet in Barangay Bagumbayan. (©UNICEF/2017/Red Santos)
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