The Philippines I saw with Errol Wendel Chen, a researcher for the farmers

(This tribute was written by a former graduate student at the Tokyo University of Foreign Studies, who now works in the Japanese government. We are withholding his name upon his request.)

On April 19, I could hardly believe what I heard about an incident in Negros Occidental. An incident involving the Philippine military left 19 people dead, among them individuals whom authorities described as suspected rebels, though accounts from colleagues and local sources dispute the official account.

Among the victims was someone named Errol; the same name as the first friend I made when I went to the Philippines. I later learned through Facebook posts and messages from his colleagues in ARPAK (Artista ng Rebolusyong Pangkultura) that it was indeed him.

Errol Wendel Chen was born on March 28, 2002. He was still so young, with a future ahead of him, yet his life was lost in an operation carried out by state forces, under circumstances that remain deeply contested. Reading the news, I felt a deep sense of regret that I was no longer physically in the Philippines.

I want to briefly record his background here. In 2022, he joined ARPAK as a peasant advocate. Just one week after joining ARPAK, he joined a mass integration activity in Hacienda Tinang, Tarlac, to support farmers resisting land grabbing. During that activity, he and nearly 100 others were illegally arrested by the Philippine National Police in June 2022. 

Experiencing state repression firsthand led him to fully commit himself to organizing work. In 2024, he became a staff member of UMA (Unyon ng Manggagawa sa Agrikultura). He returned to Tarlac, where he lived and worked alongside farmers in Hacienda Luisita. His visit to Negros Island followed the same purpose: to understand the conditions of sugar plantation workers.

I would also like to explain how I came to know him. Between 2023 and 2024, I was a graduate student in Japan researching land issues around the world. Japan imports many agricultural products, such as bananas and coffee beans, and the Philippines, where both trade and people-to-people exchange are active, felt like an important place to study. 

I wanted to conduct fieldwork in rural areas, but I could not do it alone. So I contacted KMP (Kilusang Magbubukid ng Pilipinas), an organization connected to ARPAK, and they introduced me to Errol.

My research focused on land grabbing, a phenomenon in which large-scale landowners and capital interests acquire land, often displacing local communities under unjust conditions. 

Coming from a farming family in Japan, I was deeply shocked to learn how widespread and severe this issue was, especially in emerging countries like the Philippines. I witnessed firsthand how land grabbing unfolded there, often accompanied by coercion and violence. 

The logic presented by those in power is often one-sided, with little regard for the lives of the communities affected. Government support for the poor is minimal, and, once a notice to vacate is issued, people are left with nowhere to go. 

ALSO ON RAPPLER

• RJ Ledesma: Poet, human rights activist, journalist writes 30
• Alyssa Alano: Slain UP student leader’s heart was ‘with the people’
• Maureen Santuyo: Artist and peasant organizer through and through
• From US to Toboso: The bloody journey of Fil-Am activist Lyle Prijoles
• [OPINION] After the Toboso encounters: The discourse this nation needs
• [OPINION] On the Toboso encounter, Alyssa Alano, and the question of justice
• ASEAN lawmakers urge PH accountability after Toboso killings

Through KMP, I traveled with Errol to several rural communities in the course of research and support. We visited small barangays in Bulacan and Dasmariñas (in Cavite). He accompanied me throughout this fieldwork. We stayed with host families, shared home-cooked meals, and spent long nights discussing how the Philippines could become a more just and peaceful society.

Errol and his colleagues saw social change as requiring deep structural transformation — a perspective I did not necessarily share, but tried to understand in its context. Watching their frequent demonstrations in central Manila, it was clear that this belief was not abstract but deeply lived.

I was deeply moved by his commitment to listening to people on the ground and trying to improve their living conditions. At the same time, I also knew another side of him. Errol was funny and often turned things into jokes. He enjoyed photography, biking, and food. He loved Godzilla. He once took care of a small white cat at their headquarters, which they named “Daga” (rat) because it had been bitten by one when it was young. I remember meeting that cat myself when I stayed there for a few days. Alyssa Alano, one of the victims of the massacre, was his girlfriend.

Now I find myself wondering whether I will ever again be able to conduct fieldwork in the Philippines. The deep structural inequalities of Philippine society cannot be understood from a distance; they require listening to activists, farmers, and local communities. Yet, after this incident, the Philippines has become, for me, a place of fear.

When I think about what I witnessed before and what has happened now, it reminds me that the cost of structural inequality is ultimately paid in human lives. Of course, there are perspectives from the government and the military that must also be considered, and the facts of this incident should be carefully investigated.    

However, based on my own time spent with individuals like Errol and others engaged in community work, it is difficult for me to reconcile these accounts with claims. 

Based on my own experience, I never saw individuals like Errol carry weapons or undergo military-type training. This stands in contrast not only to official military claims, but also highlights the unresolved questions surrounding who among the victims were armed combatants and who were not. 

This gap between lived experience and official narratives raises serious questions that cannot be dismissed lightly. When political decisions are made without listening to civilians, they inevitably sow the seeds of further unrest and prevent society from moving forward.

Finally, I pray for peace for him and the 18 others who lost their lives alongside him. I also hope, with all my heart, that no more massacres like this will ever happen again. 

As Robert Francis Garcia has written, “Peace is not the absence of struggle; it is the presence of a system where we can struggle for justice without having to die for it.” – Rappler.com