Drowning in Promises

While many of us complain about the scorching heat or the relentless rise in market prices, a vital sector of our society is quietly collapsing under a dual crisis: the wrath of climate change and the apathy of bureaucracy. These are our small-scale fishers—the unsung providers of protein for Filipino households—yet they remain among the hungriest, stranded on our shores.

In my interview on Walang Atrasan program over DWAR Abante Radyo, Pablo Rosales, chairperson of Pangisda Pilipinas, laid bare a grim reality. The struggle of the country’s 2.5 million registered small-scale fishers is not just about bad weather. It is a systemic catastrophe of livelihood, ecology, and human rights.

They endure a double blow daily. El Niño has aggressively warmed our seas, forcing fish to dive deeper or migrate to cooler zones—sometimes literally being cooked alive by extreme temperatures. At the same time, the fuel needed to chase these displaced catches has soared, with diesel nearing P100 per liter. How can a fisherman justify sailing when the cost of crude oil outweighs the value of a meager catch?

The tragic result is “ala-tsamba”—a desperate gamble where fishers venture out only when they might chance upon a school of fish. Many have abandoned their nets entirely, docking their boats to take on backbreaking jobs as construction workers, cargo handlers, or e-trike drivers just to stave off hunger.

Yet the cruelest blow is not El Niño, but the absence of a safety net. Why must artisanal fishers compete with massive commercial vessels encroaching on municipal waters? Why does the government approve reclamation projects, such as those in Manila Bay, that destroy marine habitats and sweep away the livelihoods of 100,000 fishers in the name of “progress”?

And where is the promised intervention? The much-publicized P2,300 fuel subsidy has proven to be a mirage—selectively distributed, agonizingly slow, and tainted by political favoritism. A one-time handout is paraded as an achievement, as if the hunger of a five-member household can be cured by a single afternoon’s worth of loose change.

Pangisda Pilipinas is not asking for luxury or charity. They demand a concrete, climate-aligned blueprint, long-term protection of municipal fishing grounds, and justice in the delivery of aid.

If we continue to ignore the alarms raised by Ka Pablo, it won’t just be fisherfolk who sink. The nation’s food security will go down with them. It is time to rescue the very people who rescue our dining tables—before they drown in a sea of unfulfilled promises.