THE HEAT is on, and it is made all the worse by transboundary haze drifting over from Indonesian forest fires. That is not a good picture at all. By Wednesday afternoon, after a round of coughing and catching the unmistakable, pungent scent of smoke in the air, I looked out the window and saw it for myself: a smoke-filled sky.
This extreme heat elevates your blood pressure, causes heat stroke and dehydration, while the haze triggers respiratory conditions like asthma. It is a challenging combination to manage every day. In fact, as I am writing this article, I am wearing double masks and puffing because I have been coughing.
What is transboundary haze?
Let’s make it easy to understand. Think of it as air pollution without borders. Right, without borders! The haze starts with land and forest fires in Indonesia, but the smoke doesn’t stay put – it travels across countries until it reaches our shores. In the policy terms of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), experts call this a Non-Traditional Security (NTS) threat affecting any member state or the ASEAN region itself. It quietly crosses borders and disrupts the everyday health and safety of ordinary citizens. That’s right: you and me.
When does it happen?
Haze occurs when smoke from widespread forest or peatland fires gets swept up by prevailing winds. It carries a toxic mix of smoke, ash, dust, and microscopic particles known as PM2.5.
To put its size into perspective, PM2.5 refers to fine particulate matter measuring 2.5 micrometers or less in diameter – about 3% of the width of a human hair. That tiny! It is so microscopic that these particles bypass our nose and throat entirely, penetrating deep into the lungs and even entering the bloodstream. They are the primary pollutant tracked during air quality monitoring, and their high concentration is the precise reason health advisories insist we mask up outdoors.
Why is it happening?
Indonesia’s National Disaster Mitigation Agency reports that widespread fires are actively burning across East and West Kalimantan, Riau, South Sumatra, and Jambi.
Because of this, the ASEAN Specialized Meteorological Centre (ASMC) raised its regional alert to Level 3, signaling a considerable risk of severe transboundary haze from multiple ongoing hotspots. Their satellite tracking has followed dense smoke plumes moving outward from Borneo straight into the western and central corridors of the Philippines – all the way down to our island here in Bohol. Sigh.
Why is it in the Philippines?
The smoke reached our doorsteps largely because of the southwest monsoon, commonly known as Habagat. It seems to me that Habagat is nearly always the culprit, huh!
Atmospheric scientist Dr. Gerry Bagtasa of the University of the Philippines explains that weather systems north of the country are helping draw those monsoon winds – and the heavy smoke they carry – right toward our islands. That polluted air could linger through the end of the week if current weather patterns hold. Meanwhile, the Department of Environment and Natural Resources’ monitoring stations recorded “Very Unhealthy to Acutely Unhealthy” air quality in Metro Manila, with the smog spreading outward to provinces like Cebu, Palawan, Mindoro, and right here in Bohol.
Tracing decades of smoke, El Niño, and lack of political will
Official records from the Indonesian Ministry of Environment and Forestry, the ASMC, and international disaster monitoring bodies document the scale, frequency, and severity of Indonesia’s recurring fires and transboundary haze.
Here is the hard truth.
The crisis first reached catastrophic proportions in 1997–1998, triggered by a severe El Niño that created the worst haze event in modern Southeast Asian history. A similarly intense El Niño drought drove the 2015 disaster, causing massive peatland combustion across Kalimantan and Sumatra and racking up economic losses exceeding $16 billion. In 2019, a prolonged dry spell fueled fires that sparked intense diplomatic friction over smoke crossing into Malaysia and Singapore. This haze heavily impacted General Santos City – where I was a resident at the time. By 2023, the return of a strong El Niño drove a significant surge in hotspots amid post-pandemic economic reopening and agricultural expansion.
Despite these devastating data, Indonesia still struggles to implement enduring solutions to manage and prevent these recurring crises that threaten the health and well-being of neighboring ASEAN nations. Why?
So, what do we do now?
Let us not take this lightly. This NTS threat is a direct danger to our daily existence, not just a distant environmental headline. Monitor the health bulletins issued by the Department of Health or by your respective local disaster offices (hopefully, these critical units are proactive in communicating this health peril). Check on your elderly neighbors, keep your children and asthmatic family members indoors, and keep those masks firmly on if you absolutely must step outside. Share this with someone who needs to be told to close their windows and stay hydrated – because waiting for the winds to shift is not a strategy. Taking care of our community starts with refusing to take our air for granted.
***
The author owns and manages Belinda Communications Consulting. You can reach us via email at belca.87@gmail.com. Engage with us on X @ShilohRuthie./PN
