Ending prejudice

“We never do anything well till we cease to think about the manner of doing it.”—William Hazlitt (1778-1830)

When I was a child growing up in Claver, Surigao del Norte, I always mocked the Mamanua. I made fun of them every time they passed our house, and every time they stopped to ask for food and/or water.

The Mamanua are dominant in our place. Some people say the Mamanua already existed even before our ancestors, and have lived near our town since time immemorial. They live in the mountains that are about 10 kilometers away but are still part of our municipality, and they walk on their bare feet to get to Claver, where they visit every house to beg for money, food or clothes, or just to stay in for about an hour to rest from the long day (or night) trip.

They are generous and respectful. They always say, “Maayong adlaw, tagbalay (Good day, household!)!” at every house they pass. They go in groups or with family members, the mother carrying her baby in a sling, the younger children walking with the father, the older ones holding their pets, mostly monkeys and pythons.

They have distinct features—dark skin, curly hair, gold teeth, big and bright eyes. I felt insecure whenever they talked because they used their own language, which I didn’t understand. They smiled so widely, laughed so loudly, their jaws widening as though no one was looking.

The Mamanua have no permanent place. They sleep in the stalls in public markets, oblivious to mosquitoes, rats and cockroaches. They are never absent during fiesta celebrations because, like everyone else in town, they would be welcome to enter any house they wished.

It was an ordinary thing for me to say “Itom (Black!)!” then burst into laughter every time I saw them (although like them, I am not white). At night, seeing them wearing light-colored clothing, I’d say, “Naa may baro na nagpanaw (Oh, there’s a dress walking!)!” They would just stare at me and smile.

But not once in my life have I heard any unpleasant story to make me fear them.

When I turned 17, my parents decided to send me to Mindanao State University (MSU) in Marawi City. It is the only university in the Philippines with a student population coming from diverse tribes and cultures—the migrants, Bangsamoro, and Lumad (indigenous people).

I had to obey my parents’ decision although I did not want to go to MSU. Yes, I feared the Muslims there, and the possibility of meeting members of the Moro Islamic Liberation Front and the Abu Sayyaf.

When I first got to MSU, I was amazed to see so many members of tribal groups—Iranun, Subanon, Maranao, T’Boli, Mangyan, Tausug, as well as the Bangsamoro and the Lumad. They lived in dormitories together with Christians, peacefully and happily. No war, no conflict.

I met a good teacher in history, Tirmizy Abdullah, a Muslim. “Mindanao is originally for the Bangsamoro and the Lumad… Christians are grouped as migrants because their ancestors are from the North, or somewhere in Luzon and the Visayas,” Sir Tirz said. He taught us the value of integration and the names of every tribe, and inculcated in our minds that no one deserved to suffer from prejudice.

Analyzing what he said, I arrived at the conclusion that a migrant like me is only a visitor in Mindanao, and that I must be ashamed of myself for mocking the Mamanua. “I am supposed to thank them because I live in their land,” I said to myself. I felt guilty about my past behavior.

Gradually, I changed my views. I learned to appreciate and respect every tribe, especially the Mamanua. I learned how to communicate with them, to treat them with gentleness, and to totally end my prejudice toward them.

It has been 10 years since the last time I mocked the Mamanua. In that span of time, I witnessed a great transformation in them.

The present life of the Mamanua is better than the past. They are now part of the changing world. Many Mamanua children are now in school, and some have graduated. Taganito Mining Corp. and three other mining companies in Surigao del Norte have built them better shelters, provided for their primary needs, and given them compensation—all in exchange for the Mamanua land that has been mined.

Yes, the Mamanua in our place are now educated, know how to drive and to socialize with others—and have discovered modern technology through mobile phones. Now, only a few of them walk from house to house to beg.

The Mamanua are only an example of the tribal groups in the Philippines that are suffering from prejudice. They are victims of arrogance from people who deem themselves physically superior. I hope and pray that somehow people would realize, just as I have, that the prejudice has to end.

Reyjhon Galos Entenia, 25, is a migrant in Mindanao and a journalist working at the Mindanao Varsitarian.