A bird sees everything from above. It does not need titles or permits to understand when land is no longer free. From the skies above Siruma, Camarines Sur, fences appear where forests once stretched, steel bites into farmlands, and barriers creep toward the shore. Paths once open to farmers, fisherfolk, and communities have been replaced with wire and concrete. This is how land is quietly stolen: not with guns or confrontation, but with posts driven deep and the silence of those who should enforce the law.
What is happening in Siruma is not ambiguity, but an act of land grabbing. Nearly 1,000 hectares of timberland, agricultural land, and coastal zones are being fenced off, allegedly by interests linked to the Villafuerte family through Wanderlust Land Development Corporation. According to the news report from ABS CBN, Camarines Sur 4th District Rep. Arnie Fuentebella urged the House of Representatives' Committee on Good Government and Accountability to investigate these claims. Fuentebella said that starting January 28, 2026, unidentified men wearing masks began erecting fences across a 300-hectare area in Barangay San Ramon and Daldagon Peak, which later was found to be claimed by Wanderlust. A land title allegedly covers 1,014.92 hectares, including timberland owned by the state, agricultural lands of private ownership, and portions of the sea.
Let us be clear about the law: timberland is inalienable, part of the public domain, and cannot be sold, titled, or fenced. Agricultural land covered by Collective of Land Ownership Award (CLOA) is protected for farmers and beneficiaries, and coastal areas are held in trust for public access, especially for fisherfolk whose livelihoods depend on open shores. Fencing across these land types is not a matter of debate — it is a violation of legal and constitutional principles.
Government offices themselves have confirmed the land classifications. The Municipal Planning and Development Office (MPDO), the City Environmental and Natural Resources Office (CENRO), and the Provincial Environment and Natural Resources Office (PENRO) have all identified the affected areas as timberland, agricultural land with valid CLOAs, and coastal zones. These are not nebulous categories: they are codified land classifications with legal weight.
This is why Congresswoman Leila de Lima called the act what it is: unlawful occupation and intrusion into public domain. These are not mere accusations; they are legal definitions grounded in law, and they match what residents and observers are witnessing on the ground.
The method of enclosure makes the intent even more troubling. Residents report that the fencing is done at night, quietly, deliberately, out of public view, and without proper permits or environmental compliance documents. The Municipal Engineering Office has already filed violations over the absence of fencing permits, yet no cease-and-desist order has been issued, not because the activity is lawful, but because the Local Government Code requires repeated filings before such orders can take effect. In that delay, fences multiply.
The spectacle on February 18, 2026, exposed the imbalance of power even further. While residents of Barangay San Ramon held a peaceful rally and unity march, demanding answers about their land, the Camarines Sur Provincial Capitol staged a food assistance program just meters away. Two realities collided: citizens asserting their legal rights, and the state offering aid as distraction. Rice beside barbed wire. Relief goods beside appropriation. Charity does not erase fences, and it does not legitimize disputed claims.
The consequences are tangible and immediate. Farmers risk losing land protected by CLOAs. Fisherfolk risk losing access to coasts that sustain families. Communities lose passage through land that was never private. Timberland loses protection, and coastal areas lose guaranteed public access. Public land cannot be fenced without proper permits, documentation, and due process. CLOA lands exist to shield citizens from dispossession, and timberland and coastal zones are legally protected.
The people of Camarines Sur cannot remain silent. The Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR) and the Department of Agrarian Reform (DAR) must immediately conduct a full audit of all fenced areas in Siruma, issue stop-work orders, and remove illegal fences. Local and national law enforcement agencies must enforce cease-and-desist orders without delay and prosecute violations. Media and civil society must document, map, and publish every fence, every claim, and every missing document. And the people themselves must not trade their land rights for temporary relief; they must demand transparency, assert their constitutional rights, and refuse to be pushed out of the land that belongs to the public.
A bird will keep flying, watching, and naming the cage. But land is defended not from the sky — it is defended by citizens who refuse to be fenced in. When public land is stolen quietly, the answer must be louder than steel, louder than fences, louder than silence.
Written by Ibong Maya, Insight PH
Ibong Maya, Insight PH is a dedicated campus journalist and contributor. Their insightful writing sparks meaningful conversations and keeps the community informed.
