AS THE forum continues, I remember the Iloilo State University of Fisheries Science and Technology’s position paper we drafted and released last February. It was firm but grounded: uphold the law, protect municipal waters, and center the voices of coastal communities in policymaking.
We, as the country’s only fisheries university, are not neutral in this fight. Our students, many of whom come from fishing families, cannot afford to be neutral either. To teach sustainability while turning a blind eye to the systematic displacement of small fishers is academic hypocrisy. Our role is not only to study the sea — it is to stand with those who live by it.
I left the forum thinking about the silent cost of policy. The Supreme Court decision allowing commercial vessels within the 15-kilometer zone, following a lower court ruling, may appear as a technical victory for commercial fishing firms. But its consequences are deeply human.
According to a study cited by Dr. Campos, 90 percent of municipal waters are deeper than seven fathoms — the new benchmark for commercial entry. This means nearly the entire municipal area could be exploited, leaving only the shallowest waters for small fishers, or as one speaker put it, “parang palanggana na lang ang matitira.”
This ruling did not come out of nowhere. It came from years of erosion — of legal enforcement, of political will, of attention to the margins. But if the “Atin ang Kinse” forum taught me anything, it is that resistance is also built in layers. TBTI Philippines, with its roots in UP Visayas and global partnerships, has been compiling studies, building alliances, and advocating tirelessly for small-scale fishers. This forum was not an isolated protest. It was a coordinated stand. A convergence of science, policy, community memory, and lived experience.
The path forward is difficult, but it is not hopeless. The Department of Agriculture – Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources has filed a motion for reconsideration. More importantly, communities are organizing. The Diocese of Bacolod has released a pastoral statement in support of fisherfolk. Local governments and state universities are expressing concern. The hope is that momentum builds, not fades. And it must. Because this is not just a fisheries issue. It is a test of national coherence. Can we still protect what our laws say we must? Can we still listen to the small voices before they are drowned out by the hum of steel boats?
To the untrained eye, the 15-kilometer line may appear arbitrary. But after hearing the stories, seeing the faces, and understanding the stakes, I know it is sacred. Not because of mythology, but because of memory. Because of meals provided, tuition paid, and communities anchored. It is not just a line on water — it is a promise on which so many lives rest.
As we continue to reflect on the National Fisherfolk’s Day, let us not just thank fishers for their service. Let us act in ways that honor their dignity. The boats may be small, but the justice they are asking for is immense.
Let us be wise enough to see that keeping the kinse for them is not charity — it is clarity, it is coexistence. And perhaps, that is what sustainability truly means: to choose and fight for the long view, even when the tide pulls the other way.
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Doc H fondly describes himself as a “student of and for life” who, like many others, aspires to a life-giving and why-driven world grounded in social justice and the pursuit of happiness. His views do not necessarily reflect those of the institutions he is employed or connected with./PN
