Bittersweet Negros

If I’m going to choose a place to stay and live forever, it will be in Negros. Wrapped in green scenery of sugarcane plantations, fresh air, and hospitable people with exhilarating smiles as sweet as the province’s major produce, sugar. It has always been a place to call home.

As I travel back to the city proper where I work in a government agency, that green scenery I am used to being fascinated with while leaning out from one-sided rusty windows of a passenger Jeep has turned from yellowish to greyish. Each cane’s leaf and stalk have been coated with black sooty mold.

The first time I heard the news about pest infiltration in Negros was last year, 2025; the first case was spotted in the southern portion of the island. I was confident with the concerted efforts of authorities, government agencies, stakeholders, and partners to track down the pest. The national government also allocated funds for ayuda in cash and fertilizer.

Cash grants were released for the first tranche amounting to 2,325 pesos, 4 sacks of fertilizer, and herbicide for each affected farmer. There were few recorded cases of pests back then. I thought pest infiltration could be halted through these interventions. I was wrong.

From yellowish to greyish, farms have started to turn green. This gradual metamorphosis may sound right, but this time it wasn’t with recovered sugarcane; it was with weeds covering hectares of vacated land as farm owners decided to stop cultivating. My mother would disgustingly express, “Hala wala na, nabakante na ang kadutaan” (Oh no, the land has been vacated)

Small-time farmers left their lands untilled due to sugarcane low productivity, low sugar market value, high cost of intensive labor and rising value of fertilizer, more so, red-striped soft-scale insects (RSSI) continue to damage the crops.

Hopeless, I posted a call for immediate action in my personal Facebook account. People expressed their disgust.

One caught my attention-: “Indi lang ang haciendero ang apektado kundi pati ang mga manug ubra. Wala sila ubra indi tungod off-season kundi wala na gid may mapaubra tungod sa peste” (It wasn’t only the hacienda owners who were affected, but also the farmworkers.) They had no work—not because it was off-season, but because there was no one left to employ them due to the pest infestation.)

I have come to realize that ours is just a tinge among deeper problems. I was ashamed of myself. Guilt consumed me. Farmworkers are supposed to be the most affected. They earned their living by relying on the alms of work on these vacated farms. They wanted to speak out of their situations but could hardly find proper media. Most are supporting their children in school while juggling to knock on every door hoping for alternative work, buying essentials for their families while meeting both ends.  They suffer not only from the off-season (when Sugar-milling sites are closed) but also from the lack of available work due to the infestation. One shared, “Kakapuy lang pirmi ang ginansiya.” (All we’ve gained is exhaustion)

An old Negrense dictum has become insignificant. A mockery of our situation. Money in Negros is hoed and shoveled (Sa Negros, ang kwarta ginapiko kag ginapala) as hyperbolically referring to an extreme wealth brought by the multi-billion-peso sugar industry. This expression is totally fading. Sugarcane farms are dying. Sugar’s market value is fluctuating because of heavy importation. Worse, farmers and farmworkers are getting hungry.

The pack of farmers lining up for the RSSI reporting booth at the Department of Agriculture’s office shows that what Negrenses are experiencing is not a mere issue. It is a crisis.

This never-ending story of struggles of both farmers and farmworkers grappling over resources, capital, social mobility, and government support that have long been encroaching throughout generations is still lurking. No one is certain how long it’s going to end or how many families will continue to suffer.

Negros was the first place I fell in love with. It is where my views and aspirations for myself and the country began. However, Negrense’s hope is gradually waning, just like green into yellow, then yellow into grey.

I am still clinging to every piece of silver lining for immediate action. To recover. To heal. To fall in love in Negros again.

Jeanel C. Gregorio, 28 years old, is a public-school teacher in Negros Occidental and the son of sugarcane workers. He finished his baccalaureate degree in Social Studies education from PNU Visayas and his master’s degree in UP Visayas.