by Abbie Christel Esguerra As the scorching sunlight becomes too much to bear, the cacao trees seem to turn lifeless and bare. The undeniable need for rain becomes a desire for all. While the farmers harvest the fruits, it hits their hands like precious gems. But as they examine the fruits closely, they begin to wonder—“Can something so precious survive without what it desires?” The city of Davao has been consistently named as the “Chocolate Capital” of the Philippines. The p

by Abbie Christel Esguerra, OD Junior Staffer As the abaka farmers look at their ₱100 bill on their trembling hands, they are not just looking at an ordinary cash but also the life that was slowly being forgotten. While they stare at it deeply, they cannot help but wonder— “As banknotes change to something more modern, what about those strands of gold left behind?” In the town of Valencia, Negros Oriental, three farmers have long been selling abaka for their daily income. Jun

by Barbara Denisse Gutierrez, OD Staffer When clean, misty air is replaced by the rotten stench of garbage, it is no longer a sanctuary—it is now a dump. When the flourishing greenery highlighting the trees' crowns loses the golden leaves it once harbored, it is no longer a forest—it is now a desert. When the very place you once called home is soiled with the remnants of a "temporary" trash waterfall, it is no longer a home. It is left as something no better than a mountain o