Crashing Waves: A Trek to Binuangan’s Working Youth

Pacesetter Newsroom
Pacesetter
Published in
7 min readJun 13, 2024

by Jedrick Ivan Musca and Kristel Anne Vadal

Photo by Mariah Angelica Tolibas

For children whose dreams remained no-win, the journey to success is beyond distance.

Growing up in a Filipino family, many are convinced that education is the key towards victory. This justifies the clear circumstances where parents are seen exposing babies to learning materials and instilling in them the value of commitment at an early age.

Whilst knowledge spares one from adversity, education in the country remains inaccessible to several youths, especially those from rural areas. This shaped the young minds into thinking that a starving stomach is more important than a snooping mind — thus child labor is normalized.

Playing hide and seek along the way — streets are settled to be their playground and workplaces become their study hall, except the mentor is not a person, but a shell.

Photo by Mariah Angelica Tolibas

In deep water

“Halos magtatatlong taon na ako rito. Simula nu’ng pandemic kasi nagtrabaho na ako para may makain. Hirap kasi ang kita noon kasi lockdown. Wala akong magagawa kundi kumayod na lang. Medyo mahirap nga lang kasi nakakasugat ‘yung pagkakalis lalo na sa talaba.”

This is how Jovel Teves, an 18-year-old lad, second among four siblings from Barangay Binuangan, Obando, Bulacan, unfolded his tough grind.

He grew up without his parents who are working overseas. However, as ironic as it may sound, despite this seemingly success hides the horror of reality.

Since his parents went out of the country, he then became the family man carrying the laborious obligation of supporting his siblings. Earning for his personal expenses and to fulfill the ravenous eyes, he started working intensively when he was 12 and even dropped out of school to continue the life that was given.

“Sa totoo lang, mas gusto ko na lang magtrabaho kesa mag-aral. Hindi [ko] na rin kasi kayang mag-aral. Mahirap ang buhay, e. Mas pipiliin ko na magtrabaho na lang para kumita. Isa lang naman ang pangarap ko — sana mabuhay [pa ako] nang matagal,” he added.

For the sake of survival, he relinquished his long-lost dream and gave his blood and sweat to earn enough sum that will last several weeks at most. And when all seems gone, his Kalis job remains and continuously extends their threatened lives in spite of the danger of surrendering to San Miguel Corporation (SMC).

To mount himself just like Teves, Axel De Ocampo, 13, also has alternate perspectives in life. For a 7th grader like him, lollygagging around is not the solution for his growling stomach for carving himself a bounty of times is the cherish.

“Pagkatapos ng school, diretso na kami agad dito para magtrabaho ho at tapusin ‘yung kalis. Minsan po, inaabot kami ng alas-onse ng gabi kapag marami po ‘yung bagsak [tahong at talaba]. Mas madali pong kalisan ang tahong kasi hindi matigas ‘yung shell, ‘yung talaba kasi nakakasugat,” he explained.

De Ocampo started to leave his salad days and venture on hard labor back in 2019, amid the pandemic. To survive the crisis, he coerced himself to look for a living to fill his hungry stomach and eventually help his family survive the financial crunch.

While it appears to some that this is merely his choice, both of his parents are unemployed and are struggling to seek alternative careers to this day.

This led him into thinking that his dream of becoming a seaman will permanently remain beyond stretch of the imagination, thus he once averred that dropping out of school is the best possible escape plan to render.

At odds with what he wanted, he still grabbed the opportunity of working as ‘magkakalis’ in a nearby tahungan (mussels) and talabahan (oysters) industry in town. Lacerating himself from the hard-covered seashells is his way of leisure and a technique to earn a sum, enough to finance his daily educational necessities.

“‘Yung mga kita ko po kasi ay pambaon ko po. Pangarap ko pong [makapagtapos] ng pag-aaral. Pangarap ko po maging seaman,” he stated.

Just like many of the laborers across the globe, his day will not end after bidding goodbye to his workmates.

De Ocampo, instead of resting his overworked body, had to spend another hour wrapping up the remaining tasks at home. At some point, he admitted his deep longingness to play again and have a whale of time, but whenever he realized the conditions his family is in, his mind automatically returned to default.

Meanwhile, the mourning callus fits the wrinkled working hand of Mark Jay Morado, 17, one of the longest child employees in the said Kalisan.

Morado was only 12 when he entered the landscape of Kalisan. Even before he had the job, he already quit his studies on account of family feud.

After half a decade of working around the clock, his primary ambition remains — to achieve his dream, be able to go back to studying, and be back where things were really.

“‘Yung trabaho namin dito simula umaga [alas-otso] hanggang gabi [alas-onse]. Madalas ang kita ko sa isang araw mga P500. Minsan P300 naman kapag walang huli. ‘Yung kabuuan nito, para sa pamilya, tapos kaunti na lang ‘yung sa’kin,” Morado explained.

He never really wanted to work but the coercion succumbs. Now, his learning hours turned to stripping and gashing his hands with the bejeweling labor of cleaning tahong and talaba.

Photo by Mariah Angelica Tolibas

Rooting through

Life in the coast is vaguely different from metropolis. Come hell or high water, juveniles from different provinces in the country like Teves, De Ocampo, and Morado have to triumph in the strongest matches to survive financial scarcity.

According to the Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA) report published in March 2023, 935,000 of 1.37 million children working were involved in child labor. This was less than the percentage recorded in 2019 at 69.6%, but was greater than the proportion of youngsters who worked 20 hours or less in a week in 2020 at 53%.

It is also alarming to note that apart from heavy work, nearly 20% of Filipino youth remain out of school and financial difficulty is a common denominator shared by the majority. Department of Labor and Employment (DOLE), on the other hand said that between 2018 and 2022, it profiled 620,556 child laborers, endorsed 614,066 to relevant organizations and agencies, supplied 138,460 with necessary services, and removed 148,248 from child labor.

Besides, to strengthen the capacity of its Regional Offices and labor inspectors, social partners, and other stakeholders both national and local levels, the DOLE will persist in conducting various advocacy activities using quad-media platforms to raise public awareness and garner support for the campaign against child labor.

The department also underlined the continuation of issuance of Working Child Permits (WCPs) to children under the age of 15 who fall under the exceptions to the prohibition provided under Republic Act №9231 otherwise known as the “Special Protection of Children Against Child Abuse, Exploitation and Discrimination Act.”

Photo by Mariah Angelica Tolibas

Keeping hope alive

Although law is vital in securing the youth’s welfare, year after year, these child laborers witnessed further struggles that pressed them to work even harder.

Mang Danilo “Dani” Tupaz, 61, the owner of the Kalisan where subjects mentioned above work, broke his silence in his defense.

“Bagama’t alam naming bawal ang bata, sa kadahilanang taghirap, hangad nila ang pambaon kaya kahit paano pinapayagan namin silang magtrabaho, pandagdag pagkain din nila, ‘yun ang purpose namin kaya namin sila pinagtatrabaho,” he explained.

Tupaz solely ran the industry for more than 25 years and he, who also started at an early age is cognizant to the struggles and tough adaptation his child workers cope with.

“Oo naman, nakakaawa rin, syempre mga bata ‘yan hindi dapat mag-trabaho kaya lamang wala naman tayong kakayahan na suportahan sila [kung hindi] sa pamamagitan ng pagtrabahuhin sila nang magaan na trabaho,” he stated.

“Kung minsan sumasabay sila sa hanggang sa magsara [ang Kalisan], naghahangad din kasi sila ng kita para maibigay sa magulang,” he added.

Tupaz clarified that these children were not forced to work in his Kalisan — it is their free will. In fact, he always makes it a point to supervise his workers and suggest they stop when feeling weary.

Contrary to what others imply, Tupaz hopes only the best for these children and them, returning to school is to him, a triumph. “Sana mabigyan ‘yung mga bata ng tulong. Para kahit mawala ‘yung Kalisan, makapag-aral sila nang diretso hanggang sa makatapos.”

The process tahong and talaba goes through is as complex as child laborers’. From sock to pot, cutting along to transition from child’s play to backbreaking work is something to be recognized.

In spite of the backlash, struggles, and conflicts they face on a daily basis, Teves, De Ocampo, and Morado are still optimistic that their hard work will soon take them places which in every angle, is a perfect badge of hope.

Afterall, holding on to a dream and making sure it stays not only a dream is legendary.

Kristel Anne Vadal is the Features Editor of Pacesetter for A.Y. 2023–2024. She is a fourth-year journalism student from the College of Arts and Letters.

Jedrick Ivan Musca is a freshman staff writer of Pacesetter. He is a first-year English Major minor in Mandarin student from the College of Education who covers topics related to humanity, literacy, life incongruence, and hardships of the economy.

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