NEARLY 500 YEARS ago, Portuguese explorer Ferdinand Magellan first set foot on a rugged island, which he described as a refuge of lush forests, clear rivers, and abundant food.
Today, Homonhon is making history again—this time as a battleground against destructive mining which in time pushed its fragile environment to the brink of collapse.
But change may be on the horizon.
This comes as Eastern Samar Rep. Sheen Gonzales expressed alarm over the activities of five mining companies covering almost 90 percent of Homonhon’s 7,400 hectares.
An obviouly pissed off congressman accused them of degrading forests, polluting rivers, and threatening the livelihood and well-being of fisherfolk and farmers.
“The people of Homonhon have endured decades of environmental abuse,” Gonzales said. “It is time to review our mining laws and put communities, not corporations, at the center of decision-making,” reads part of the legislator’s privilege speech.
LAST FORTY YEARS
Homonhon which forms part of Guiuan town in Eastern Samar, holds a special place in Philippine history. On March 16, 1521, Magellan’s expedition landed on this island after a grueling Pacific crossing. Chronicler Antonio Pigafetta described the island as rich with fresh water, coconuts, and game.
Centuries later, it would attract not explorers but mining corporations. By the 1980s, nickel and chromite deposits lured companies into carving roads into and through the mountains.
In 1995, the situation worsened following the enactment of the Philippine Mining Act which granted foreign and local firms sweeping rights to extract minerals.
Today, large swaths of the island lie denuded. Residents say once-clear rivers have turned muddy from siltation, while coral reefs—the nurseries of fish—are smothered by mine waste.
VOICE OF RESISTANCE
The fight against mining in Homonhon is long and often perilous.
Fr. Edwin Gariguez, former executive secretary of the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines–National Secretariat for Social Action (CBCP-NASSA), once called large-scale mining in Samar “a death sentence for communities whose lives depend on the land and sea.”
Local groups, particularly the Homonhon Environmental Rescuers Organization (HERO), led protests, road blockades, and petitions. Supported by church leaders and environmental NGOs, they staged demonstrations in Guiuan and Tacloban, denouncing what they aptly referred to as “plunder of our island.”
In 2016, residents successfully blocked a nickel ore shipment bound for China by barricading Homonhon’s port. In 2020, at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, islanders protested when mining vessels were allowed to dock even as relief goods were scarce.
“Our island is rich, but our people are poor,” said HERO spokesperson Lourdes Cabasag.
“Mining companies take the minerals, but leave us with poisoned rivers, bald mountains, and empty seas.”
SIGNIFICANT TIMELINE
1980s – Small-scale mining begins; locals raise concerns about deforestation.
1995 – Philippine Mining Act enacted, opening the door to large-scale operations.
2001–2010 – Church leaders and NGOs conduct fact-finding missions documenting siltation and forest loss.
2016 – Residents block a nickel shipment, drawing national attention.
2020 – During lockdowns, residents protest the entry of mining vessels.
2023 – Watchdogs report worsening coral reef damage due to mine tailings.
2025 – Rep. Gonzales calls for closure of destructive mining operations.
THE PH MINING ACT
At the core of the problem, Gonzales claims, is the Philippine Mining Act of 1995, which centralizes decisions under the national government while sidelining local communities.
“This law treats residents as bystanders in decisions about their land,” he said.
“It is time we restore the power of local governments to decide what kind of development they want.”
SO MUCH AT STAKE
For Homonhon’s 5,700 residents, the fight is deeply personal. Fisherfolk report dwindling catches as reefs are buried in silt. Farmers say croplands are contaminated by mine runoff.
“If mining continues, there will be nothing left for our children,” said fisherman Mario de los Reyes, who has joined anti-mining protests since the 1990s. “The ocean used to provide for us. Now we sail farther and catch less.”
Environmental scientists warn that continued large-scale extraction could cause irreversible damage to the island’s watershed, which sustains both residents and nearby communities.
MAKE OR BREAK
Gonzales’s speech has reignited calls for a moratorium—or even a ban—on mining in Homonhon. Environmental groups see this as a rare chance to push for long-delayed reforms.
“The closure of destructive mines in Homonhon would not only save the island—it would send a message that communities matter,” said Kalikasan People’s Network for the Environment.
Five centuries after Magellan’s landing, Homonhon once again stands as a symbol—this time of the clash between exploitation and preservation, profit and survival.
Scarred but unbowed, the people of Homonhon continue their fight. Their message is clear: they seek an end to exploitation, and a future where the island’s wealth sustains its people, not destroys them.