From the Mountains to the Movement: The Story of a Young Lumad Woman’s Resistance in Mindanao, Philippines

In the misty highlands of Mindanao, the mornings begin with the sound of roosters, the rustle of banana leaves, and the distant hum of rivers carving their way through the forest. For generations, this land has been the heart of the Lumad, Mindanao’s indigenous peoples — a place where the earth is not just soil, but story.

It was here that Angel Enoc, now 23, learned to plant rice, fetch water from the river, and listen to her elders’ tales of bravery and survival. But her quiet rural upbringing took a sharp turn when the land she called home came under threat.

“I am a land defender,” she says firmly, her voice carrying both youth and conviction. “It means protecting our forests, our rivers, and our farms — but also protecting the dignity and future of our people.”

A Childhood Interrupted

Angel was still in her teens when whispers spread through her community about mining and logging projects encroaching on their ancestral land. Soon, she saw military trucks on the same roads she once walked barefoot to school. Some families left; others stayed and resisted. Meetings were held under the cover of night. The threat was no longer abstract — it was at their doorstep.

“I remember my elders confronting company people,” Angel recalls. “They had no guns, only their words, their documents, and their courage.”

Those moments left a mark. She realized that defending the land was not just men’s responsibility, as tradition often implied — women, too, had a stake and a voice. 

Finding a Movement

Her path led her to Sabokahan Unity of Lumad Women, a grassroots network of indigenous women leaders in Mindanao. Sabokahan organizes communities around livelihood, health services, and education, but also teaches about women’s rights — a link Angel had never fully seen before.

“With Sabokahan, I learned that fighting for our land is also fighting for ourselves as women,” she says. “The two cannot be separated.”

Through training and community work, Angel transformed from a quiet observer into a confident organizer. She began facilitating discussions, leading cultural activities, and joining campaigns in Davao and neighboring provinces.

 Living with Risk: From the Mountains to the Cities

In Mindanao, activism comes with a high risk of danger. Indigenous leaders are often accused of being insurgents — a tactic known locally as “red-tagging” — and face harassment or worse.

“They want us to be afraid,” Angel says, pausing before adding, “But fear is not enough to make me stop. If we stop speaking, who will tell the truth? If we stop resisting, who will defend the land for the next generation?”

Her work requires constant travel between communities, often through areas tense with military presence. But each conversation with a farmer, each child’s smile in a literacy session, reminds her why she keeps going.

Through the bakwit (evacuation) schools, Angel traveled far beyond her home. She spoke in classrooms, churches, and universities across Visayas and Manila, explaining the threats posed by mining, logging, dams, and militarization.

Follow the Money

In June 2025, JASS’ Regional Feminist Movement Builders School brought together 25 community organizers, feminist facilitators, movement builders, and practitioners of feminist participatory action research who are organizing or involved in resisting extractive industries that are damaging communities in Indonesia and the Philippines. Using Follow the Money: Activist Tools for Challenging Extractives as a methodology and approach, the gathering focused on consolidating ongoing work on tracking the investment chains behind energy and infrastructure projects in the Philippines and Indonesia.

In JASS’ mapping workshops, Angel learned to trace the funding behind destructive projects, often revealing ties to Chinese and US banks. This knowledge transformed her advocacy, giving her the ability to connect the dots behind foreign investors and local actors that drive them away from their communities and destroy their ancestral lands. 

Carrying the Story Forward

Organizing in Mindanao remains dangerous. Militarization means that even within her own community, gatherings require the approval of local officials. Still, Angel and her fellow organizers persist. Over 10,000 Lumad youth remain without access to education, and the land-grabbing has continued.

Today, Angel stands as part of a new generation of Lumad women who see their struggle as more than a local fight. For them, the battle to defend ancestral land is intertwined with the global push for climate justice, women’s rights, and peace.

 She still returns to her home village whenever she can. The land, she says, is what taught her to be strong. And now, she hopes her story will inspire others to rise — just as she did.

“I am only one voice,” she says. “But if more of us speak together, we can protect our home.”