held only a pen or a lover.

Later on, I would learn that it wasn’t manang Linda’s first act of resistance that brought her to Manila from Mindanao. Ten years before the march, on Oct. 1997, she was among those who staged a hunger strike in front of the Department of Agrarian Reform (DAR) compound in Quezon City, fighting against the same oppressive system, fighting for the same land.

A few months after joining the Sumilao Farmers’ march, I met Ka Ramon in the “tent city” near the gates of the DAR, along the Quezon City Circle. Walking along the sidewalk leading to the then bolted gates of DAR felt like walking across the Philippines, with farmers from Laguna on one end and farmers from Davao del Norte on another.

Choosingto take part in a mobilization is choosing to take part in a long history of struggle, one that is fueled by the passion and determination of people who have been mindlessly accused of being “lazy.”

Ka Ramon was from Sarangani, and he belonged to a group of farmers who have spent more than a decade fighting for land ownership. He had already been living in the tent city for a year when we met, and at that time, Typhoon Frank had just hit Manila. He told me how they repeatedly asked the guards of the DAR compound to let them in, but they were only allowed to stay in an empty, locked outpost.

I remember asking him why he chose to stay in the tent city despite the difficulties,