When the Wealth of the Few Becomes the Death of the Many: The Tragedy of
Mindanao’s Poisoned Plantations
The outpouring of stories from Indigenous Peoples across Mindanao has revealed a painful truth that the ancestral lands they once called sacred and life-giving have been turned into vast industrial plantations. These “blessed lands,” once abundant with food, forests, and rivers, are now dominated by multinational corporations in collusion with the powerful and the corrupt. All told, more than 300,000 hectares of fertile Mindanao soil have been transformed into massive monocrop plantations supplying pineapples, bananas, and other high-value export crops for global markets.
These plantations are not symbols of progress, as their promoters claim, but rather symbols of dispossession and disease lands once thriving with biodiversity now poisoned with chemicals, and communities once self-sufficient now suffering from hunger, cancer, and deformities. Indeed, the age-old social divide between “the haves and the have-nots” has evolved into something more tragic “live or live not.” The wealth of the few is now literally the death of the many. Every single day, these plantations bombard the soil, water, and air with a deadly cocktail of chemicals.
From land preparation to harvest, there is hardly a day when poisons are not applied. Nematicides are sprayed to kill microscopic worms in the soil; phosphoric acids serve as fungicides; Actara and other insecticides are used to wipe out every living insect, and herbicides like Duiron and Promacil sterilize the ground so that nothing else can grow. Immediately after planting, more poisons are added Duiron and Ametryne followed by tons and tons of chemical fertilizers.
As if that were not enough, foliar fertilizers are continuously applied to force unnatural plant growth, reaching an estimated 1,500 kilograms
per hectare. With over 300,000 hectares of plantations in Mindanao, that translates to 3,000 truckloads of toxic chemicals dumped daily into the region’s soil and water systems. These toxic compounds are non-biodegradable, which means they persist for generations, silently contaminating the groundwater the very source of drinking water for countless families.
The water table of Mindanao, which sustains millions, is now under grave threat. The chemicals used in these plantations are known to be carcinogenic and mutagenic, capable of causing cancer and genetic deformities.
The consequences are horrifying. Many families in plantation areas have already lost loved ones to cancer. In some villages, the number of people afflicted has reached alarming
levels, with cases of leukemia, liver failure, and respiratory disease on the rise. Even more heartbreaking are reports of newborn babies born without limbs, noses, or anuses, innocent lives poisoned before they even took their first breath.
A poor pregnant woman, unable to afford bottled water, drinks from the only source she has the local well. But that water, once pure, is now contaminated with toxic residues from plantation chemicals. The victim is not only the mother but also her unborn child. These are not isolated incidents; they are manifestations of systemic corporate violence, hidden behind the glossy advertisements of “tropical fruits” and “economic development.”
In the city of Malaybalay, Bukidnon, local officials took a brave stand. Recognizing the harm caused by plantation expansion and chemical pollution, the local government passed an ordinance prohibiting further plantation growth within their jurisdiction. It was a rare act of moral courage a sign that not all in power have been silenced by corporate interests. Malaybalay’s decision gives hope that not all Filipinos are cowards, contrary to the mocking remarks I once heard abroad. During my visit as Chairman of the Cooperative Development
Authority, environmental advocates from other countries asked why these banned corporations found safe- haven in Mindanao.
They told me, half-jokingly, that our country must be a “nation of cowards” for allowing what other nations had already rejected. Yet the stand of Malaybalay proves otherwise. It demonstrates that when moral conviction outweighs greed, even local governments can become beacons of resistance.
It is time that every other LGU in Mindanao must follow suit to inspect, verify, and investigate the chemical usage of these plantations, and to protect their people before it is too late.
In Puerto Rico, several of these same multinational corporations have been banned after plantation workers were found to be suffering from widespread cancer. Similarly, in Costa Rica, the government temporarily shut down a pineapple farm owned by Pineco, a subsidiary of Fresh Del Monte Produce, due to violations of environmental laws and threats to nearby wetlands and UNESCO-protected sites.
Costa Rican authorities also banned the herbicide bromacil, known to contaminate water systems and cause health problems. This led to public demonstrations in the capital, with citizens demanding corporate accountability and environmental justice.
These examples reveal a crucial truth that vigilance and courage can protect both people and planet. While other nations act decisively to defend their environment and public
health, the Philippines remains a dumping ground for banned toxic chemicals and outlawed corporate practices. It is appalling to think that of the eight major chemicals used by
Mindanao’s plantations, seven are already banned in other countries. Yet here, they are still permitted, used, and even subsidized in the name of “development.” Why are these corporations allowed to operate freely in Mindanao? The answer lies in the cruel logic of global capitalism. What is forbidden in rich countries becomes acceptable in poor ones. What is banned in the North is welcomed in the South, where weak regulations and corrupt institutions provide a convenient refuge. Thus, the Philippines has become a chemical graveyard a haven for banned substances and corporate exploitation. Our government, instead of protecting its people, has allowed foreign companies to enrich themselves at the expense of Filipino lives.
These corporations justify their presence by claiming they create jobs and bring
progress. But what kind of progress is it when workers are poisoned, rivers are polluted, and children are born deformed? What kind of employment destroys the very soil that sustains future generations? True progress should be measured not by export volume or profit margins, but by the health of the people and the integrity of the land.
The enrichment of the rich has clearly meant the dispossession of the poor, of their land, their livelihood, their health, and their future. Behind every exported pineapple and banana is a story of pain. Plantation workers, often paid below minimum wage, are exposed daily to chemicals without adequate protection. Many suffer skin diseases, chronic cough, and organ damage. Farmers who once cultivated diverse crops for food are now tenants and laborers in their own ancestral lands. Indigenous communities have lost their sacred domains, replaced by uniform rows of chemically dependent crops that no longer feed their families.
Meanwhile, the local economy grows dependent on exports while local food security collapses. The irony is stark: the very land that could feed Mindanao’s poor is being used to feed foreign markets. If only the government invested in local food production, cooperative farming, and agroecology, Mindanao could become the nation’s food basket once more not the chemical wasteland it is turning into.
This crisis is not merely ecological; it is moral and spiritual. The destruction of the land mirrors the decay of our collective conscience. When we allow greed to dominate policy, when we value profit over life, we lose not only our forests and rivers but also our soul as a nation.
We must awaken from complacency. We must demand that our leaders act with courage to investigate, to regulate, to ban toxic chemicals, and to hold corporations accountable. Environmental protection must not be seen as a hindrance to development, but as the foundation of true, lasting prosperity. Every Filipino, from the farmer to the policymaker, has a duty to protect the sacredness of life. For in defending the land, we defend ourselves and the generations to come.
The question that confronts us today is not merely economic but existential: Shall we live, or live not? The export-driven, chemical-dependent plantation system that dominates Mindanao is not sustainable. It is built on the false premise that the earth is an endless resource to be exploited and that people are expendable. But the truth is otherwise the earth is finite, and every life is sacred. We must reject a system that glorifies profit while poisoning our people.
We must support local governments, people’s movements, and cooperatives that fight for ecological integrity and food sovereignty. The Philippines must no longer be a dumping ground for banned chemicals and corporate greed. It must rise as a nation of conscience and courage, reclaiming its land, restoring its rivers, and reviving its soul. Let us end this tragedy where the wealth of the few becomes the death of the many Let us choose life for our people, for our children, and for the living earth we call home.
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