MALAYBALAY CITY, Bukidnon -- Argielyn clutched the strap of her backpack containing notebooks, pens and other school supplies. Her groomed hair matched her spanking black shoes and lily-white socks as she entered the Bukidnon National High School here. She beamed as she joined the sea of students who rushed inside the gate as the school bell rang to announce the start of classes for the day.

This was not Argielyn’s routine during school days a few years back. Her world was confined to their shanty where she would do house chores and attend to her younger siblings while her parents worked in their farm. Dire poverty forced her parents, both belonging to the Bukidnon tribe in barangay Dalwangan here, to stop sending her to school after she had finished grade four. She thought she would not get another chance to continue her studies and had resigned to the thought of following her parents’ fate of marrying early and spending the rest of her life in their secluded village near the forest.

The program, which KIN admitted may not be sustained in the long run, has subsidized some 60 children of the Bukidnon tribe. Transportation, school fees, uniforms, school supplies and expenses for projects and field trips are included in the assistance package.

On one hand, the assistance has sent more Bukidnon children to school and inspired them to aim high in terms of education. But on the other hand, it highlights the destitution among many indigenous families particularly those living in the uplands of Mindanao.

Public education in the country is free up to the secondary level. Yet, Argielyn and her peers have to rely on outside help for seemingly petty requirements like school supplies and uniforms.

Poverty among the Bukidnon living in this city’s forest communities defies the usual indicators prescribed by government agencies and other groups. Anecdotes would do more than statistics in describing the hardship that has prevented many of their children from pursuing formal education.

“For many of these children, their parents could only offer them two choices: having supper tonight or having money for transportation (in going to school) the next day. During the most difficult times, neither of these choices would be available. They would just go to sleep without food in their stomachs,” Grace Galache, who is in charge of the educational assistance program, revealed.

“Considering the poverty of many Lumad or indigenous peoples, even their brightest children stop going to school before they finish elementary simply because of the expenses. Since school is officially free up to the secondary level, to people other than the poorest, it just looks like those dropouts don’t care to pursue any sort of education,” Emma van Opstal, a Dutch anthropologist who had stayed among the Bukidnon, observed.

Van Opstal further noted: “The Bukidnon tribe in Malaybalay makes conscious efforts to preserve their culture and identity. In sitio Inhandig, at the foot of Mt. Kitanglad Range, they have established a tribal school to teach their language, cultural practices, and indigenous knowledge and arts. Here, children are given a firm sense of their identity and belongingness, values, knowledge, traditions, and history as a people.”

“But in the world right now, knowledge on tribal culture is not enough. It may be very idyllic to have tribal people dancing all dressed up in their own traditional costumes -- which, incidentally, they cannot even afford without outside help --- and dwelling in their virgin forest. But these kids are part of the same world as the rest of us. Their families also need to support themselves, since school uniforms don’t grow on trees,” she said.

“Aside from being people just like anyone else, with a right to education, indigenous people need modern knowledge in order to protect themselves and their land from abuse and exploitation, to overcome marginalization, and simply to continue existing,” Van Opstal, who actually started the program as KIN volunteer, added.

“The program has lessened financial difficulties on the part of the parents. Previously most of these children had to skip their classes because they had no money for transportation and lunch. The improved performance indicates that with sufficient support the Lumad children can cope up with the demands of formal education,” Galache enthused.

Still, with the uncertain future of KIN’s program that aims to help the tribal children earn an education, they would ultimately have to fend for themselves if they really wish to at least improve their level of literacy in order to be equipped in dealing with the world beyond their forest homes. But an income survey conducted in 2006 among the Bukidnon seems to suggest that it would take some time, if ever, before they would be able to educate their children on their own means. The survey says that most families cultivate an average of 1.4 hectares and earn just between 1500 and 3000 pesos monthly. Each family has between seven and eight members.

Galache cited her experience in doing a health assessment survey last year which gave the poverty among the Bukidnon tribe a face. She recalled that while she was interviewing a young mother it rained, the whole house leaked, and her 2-year-old son, who looks too small for his age, had to be dragged to the kitchen where there was no leak.

“Not all residents especially those in upland areas can avail of health services. They use herbal medicines to prevent and heal diseases. Government health services are limited to children’s immunization, checkup and provision of tablets for headache and respiratory ailments. But these are given only if the people come to the clinic, which seldom happens,” she said.

“Some of the questions (in the survey) may be inappropriate if not outright misplaced. Questions like ‘what time do you eat breakfast, lunch or dinner?’ and ‘how many times do you take a bath or brush your teeth?’ may not apply to most of them. On some days a number of them go to bed without taking meals,” she noted.

Pauline Wong, a Hong Kong Chinese, visited the tribe a few months back to ask the community how they are being affected by policies that govern Mount Kitanglad as a protected area. The people gave different answers and impressions. Until an elderly woman remarked: “Our children need food to eat.”

“It was a basic message,” Wong would later reflect.

“We want to go to school,” each of the children told her. “Our parents do not have the money to send us to school.”

For Wong, only the warm, traditional welcome hid the gnawing poverty that marks the lives of a tribe whose children are trying to keep pace with the demands of survival – through education.

She recalled her first encounter with the tribe:

“I stepped into the tribal meeting hall, a spacious and sturdy wooden structure, greeted by the warmth of cheek to cheek kisses and handshakes of the Daraghuyan elders. As the elders prepared the initiation ritual, the children, dressed in brightly colored uniforms of red, white and black, imitated the animals of the Bukidnon mountain ranges with dances full of energy.

“Do you see ‘Poverty’ in this portrait? The Bukidnon tribe seems rich in the warmth of their hospitality, smiling masks obscuring the underlying impoverishment in the community.”  (H. Marcos C. Mordeno/MindaNews)

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