IT IS ONE thing to read about the threats facing small-scale fishers; it is another to sit beside them, listen to their stories, and feel the quiet urgency in their words.
Nearly two months back, I had the privilege of attending the “Atin ang Kinse” forum at the UP Visayas Auditorium in Iloilo City. I was sent by our university, the Iloilo State University of Fisheries Science and Technology (ISUFST), along with my colleagues from the College of Fisheries and Aquatic Sciences (CFAS) — Dr. Jescel Bito-onon and Associate Professor Rother Gaudiel. Sharing the same round table with us were Dr. Harold Monteclaro and Dr. Yasmin Primavera-Tirol, current and former deans of UPV’s College of Fisheries and Ocean Sciences.
In that room—filled with marine scientists, policy experts, fisherfolk leaders, artisanal fishers, and community advocates—we were not just attendees of an academic event. We were witnesses to a national hybrid gathering that felt like both a homecoming and a frontline.
What stood out was not just the data, though Dr. Wilfredo Campos’ presentation made the science speak volumes. It was the simplicity of the messages that echoed through the hall: protect the 15-kilometer municipal waters. Keep them for the fishers who depend on them.
The logic was clear. As Dr. Campos emphasized, these waters are not empty, underutilized spaces waiting for commercial expansion — they are already overfished, and they are the last line of defense for many coastal families. The proposed entry of large-scale fishing vessels into these zones, now legitimized by a controversial court ruling, is not just a policy shift. It is a redrawing of survival lines.
What struck me most during the open forum was a fisherwoman from Ajuy who said, “Pag nawala ang kinse, wala na kaming babalikan.” It was not dramatic. It was plain truth.
The 15 kilometers are not just coordinates on a map — they are cultural lifelines, inherited from generations who learned to read tides like textbooks. If these waters are opened to commercial vessels, equipped with sonar, nets the size of chapels, and financial capital to spare, small boats will not stand a chance. No law of physics allows a paddle to outpace a propeller.
And yet, it is not only a question of might. It is also one of rights. As pointed out by Atty. Rose-Liza Eisma-Osorio of Oceana Philippines, the Constitution is not ambiguous: municipal waters are for municipal fishers. The 1987 Constitution, Article XIII, Section 7, guarantees the preferential rights of subsistence fishers. Republic Act (RA) 8550, amended by RA 10654, affirms it again.
What we are seeing is not just a legal oversight — it is a moral misalignment. When laws are left unenforced, or worse, quietly reversed, those who have the least often pay the highest price.
Fisherfolk poverty is not news. According to the Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA), fishers remain the second poorest sector in the country, with a poverty incidence of 27.4 percent. But what stings is how preventable it is. For decades, small-scale fisheries have been the backbone of our food security. They contributed 39 percent of the total value of fisheries production in 2022, often with outdated boats and uncertain weather. And yet, they are now being asked to compete with commercial giants for the same marine space? It is like sending a jeepney to a drag race and pretending the contest is fair. (To be continued)/PN
