January and February are the coldest months in Benguet Province.

The arrival of the

cool northeast wind signals the maturity of the cabbage plants. The farmers of
Buguias and took care of these cabbages for five months. They tilled the land...
sowed seeds... and took care them. They toiled for five months and hoped. But in
the end... many ended up discarded. It was the peak of the cold season when we went
to Buguias in the province of Benguet But despite the cold, the farmers continued
to harvest. I'm heading to Jenaret's farm. They're one of the families in Buguias
who have been planting cabbages for a long time now. Janaret was just six years old
when she learned to plant vegetables. She inherited this small plot of land on a
mountainside from her ancestors. Hello, Ma'am. Are you selling today? Tomorrow,
Ma'am. How much was your capital? Around 40,000 pesos. To regain the capital of
40,000 pesos, they need to sell every kilo of cabbage for 20 pesos. That's why
Janaret carefully selects the cabbages they'll bring to the market. But it's not
just the condition of the cabbage that dictates its price. Janet says this
livelihood is a gamble. Sometimes, no matter how good the quality of your harvest
is, you can still go home with a loss if you encounter stingy buyers. Some luck out
and get good prices but if you plant late, then that could mean you'll be stiffed.
But we don't really know. It's a gamble. What is a gamble? Farming. We're just
always hoping to hit the jackpot. A matter of chance? Yes, Ma'am. They said they've
had bad luck in the market for months now. But because their cabbage harvest are
good today, Janaret is hoping that maybe luck will finally find them. If they get
lucky, they'll be able to sell their cabbages for 20 pesos per kilo. They'll make
40,000 pesos so they'll break even. But if they're unlucky, they'll only get 10
pesos or even less per kilo. That's a very big loss for them. They packed nearly
three tons of first class cabbages for La Trinidad Trading Post. I hope this will
finally come back with good tidings for her family. Before we left Janaret, we saw
some kids playing in the field. Too bad this will just go to waste, ma'am. That
will become fertilizer. - What? - That will become fertilizer. Only fertilizer?
Yes, when it rots. You can't sell this? Buyers will be stingy over that at the
trading post, Ma'am. Especially if it's small. Janaret said buyers in La Trinidad
are very picky these days. They push for a really low price if the size is not
accurate. So instead of selling them, they opt to just throw them. Anyone would
feel a great loss over seeing tons of cabbages worth 30,000 pesos to 50,000 pesos
thrown out as garbage. No one wanted to buy them. And the price offered was so low
that's why we opted to just take them back. Benguet farmers have had the supposed
problem of cabbage oversupply for months now. According to authorities, only a few
buyers go up so there are a lot of leftover cabbage. The unsold cabbage is just
thrown on the side of the road. If you ask the Department of Agriculture, they
blame the oversupply to farmers planting too much of it. But is oversupply the real
reason why farmers are getting pinched? The local government has different view.
Importation has an effect. Vegetables like carrots are entering our country. So,
buyers don't go up anymore to Benguet because they can get supply in Manila. Dandy
spent several years studying how to farm vegetables in Buguias. A former public
school teacher, Dandy decided to become a farmer to enrich the land he inherited
from his parents. Like other farmers, Dandy is wondering why the price of cabbage
is so low in the market when they did not change anything in their farming process.
In the past, they used to be able to sell a kilo for 20 pesos. Back then, we went
directly with our produce to the warehouse of the buyers. Yes. All our vegetables
are purchased. We didn't return with any or throw them away. Now, it's as if we're
just giving them away. Why do you say that? What's different now? There are no more
buyers. So, we either just let them rot in the trucks or throw them on the road
side. If we bring them back to use as compost, the trip will incur a big crude
expense. Dandy harvested four tons of cabbage from his farm. Each cabbage is of
first class quality, grown in the good climate of Benguet and cared for with
fertilizer. Hopefully, they can recoup their expenses. The next day, the vegetables
were transported early to La Trinidad. The trip took four hours. I hoped the
vegetables didn't bruise in the journey. I became a little worried when I saw the
amount of cabbages in the trading post. Is this what they call the oversupply? Will
Dandy and Janeret sell their cabbage? Mostly cabbages and potatoes... I thought
they only needed to talk to one person to sell their produce. But I learned that
several steps need to be followed before a sale is made. There is the disposer who
offers the cabbage to buyers or purchasers. You can't go directly to buyers. How
about the money you earn? You need to stop by the disposer and for every kilo you
sell, they get a one peso commission. How much do you think that will sell for?
Cabbage sells for 10 pesos a kilo today. 10 pesos? Why 10 pesos? It depends on the
amount that arrives. If there's a lot of vegetables, prices really fall. If there's
few, prices go up. This is 10 pesos? As long as it's green and the leaves are still
attached? - Yes. - And this? This is what we call second class. This is second
class? That will fetch for 6 pesos or 7 pesos or 8 pesos. There's something lower
than 7 pesos? Yes. What does that look like? - Similar. - Now there's a third
class... What does third class look like? Similar but lower quality. It will go for
3 pesos. What? 3 pesos only? Why just 3 pesos? That's the way it is. There's
nothing we can do. It's a gamble. People will ask, "how come it's so cheap in
Benguet but here it's expensive?." The vegetables have to be transported. Just
because it's 4 pesos here, it's also 4 pesos there. How will our bosses make money
to pay for our salaries? Rudy is one of the purchasers. They bring the cabbages to
sell to wet markets in Divisoria. He's an expert in haggling for lower prices.
What's the selling price today? There's 12, 8 pesos and 7 pesos. It depends on the
quality of the vegetables. How about these? That's first class. We can't say
they're bad but they won't pass the orders I received. Too big? No. It's not clean
and there's something. Once the purchaser and disposer agree on a price, the men
called "por dia" come in. They will repack the cabbage before they leave La
Trinidad. Each are paid 400 pesos. I only had one question after I learned the low
haggling prices at the trading post, will there be something left for the farmer at
the end? What would be the break-even price? On a good harvest, the break-even
price for cabbage would be 25 pesos and above. 25 pesos per kilo? Yes, hopefully.
But the actual price that day was far from the 25 pesos per kilo they hoped for.
Dandy's four tons of cabbage was only sold for 11 pesos per kilo. So yours was
bought for 11 pesos? - Yes, Ma'am. - And that's okay with you? Yes. But it's not
enough. I opted for it because otherwise they'll just rot in the farm or left
behind here. You'll just make do with that price? Yes. We'll just try again. Maybe
the price will be higher next time. If Dandy's cabbage only sold for 11 pesos, I
wondered how Janaret fared? We still have something left. Something have left? How
much is it? Her husband Juni was in-charge of selling their cabbages. He waited for
a whole day at the trading post before he found a buyer. The result... he sold his
cabbages for 10 pesos per kilo. Some haggled for as low as 7 pesos. Then of course,
there's the commission. You sold it for 10 pesos but your take home is 9 pesos? -
Yes. - Then this is 6 pesos. That's what our boss said. How much did they buy it
for earlier, 7 pesos? 6 pesos. So, what's the total? 22,815 pesos. Juni made a
total of 222,815 pesos. I thought he'd be able to bring that home to Janaret but...
What expenses? Paper used. The paper cost. The paper cost 4,000 pesos? Paper and
plastic. Newspaper, plastic and? The por dia, the men who packed. The packers. The
plastic and paper are expensive. The plastic and paper are expensive? The paper
cost 1,100 pesos. 1,100 pesos for newspaper? It's only a newspaper, huh. Plastic at
1,000 pesos. 1,000 pesos just for plastic? Yes. 1,000... Then the por dia? - Four.
- 1,600 pesos. - Only four. - 1,600 pesos? So how much is the total expenses? -
4,400. - 4,400? So what will be their take home? We've subtracted. 18,000 pesos?
18,000 pesos, Sir. But Juni's obligation doesn't end here. He needs to pay the
truck that delivered the cabbages. 9,500 pesos, right? 9,500 pesos. Does that
include oil? Yes. I looked at what's left in Juni's hand. And I remembered the work
Janeret put into every cabbage planted. How much is left with you? - 8,820 pesos? -
8,700. 8,820 pesos? Who else do you need to pay? - The harvesters? - Yes. How many?
- 12. - 12? How much each? - 200 pesos. - 200 pesos? 2,400 pesos? 2,400 pesos.
8,800 pesos? 8,800 pesos minus 2,400 pesos... 6,400 pesos will be left with you.
Just to buy rice. It's really a loss. We'll just have to plant again. Plant again?
Yes. Maybe we'll get lucky. Their capital was 40,000 pesos. They toiled for five
months. In the end, all their labor will be haggled down and end up with just 6,000
pesos. Not far from La Trinidad Trading Post, there's a wet market that sells
cabbages. When I asked them what the price was, I learned that a kilo there sells
for 25 pesos. And when we went down to Baguio City... How much is the cabbage? 50
pesos per kilo. 50 pesos? Baguio is only an hour away from La Trinidad but the
original price of 10 pesos pero kilo of cabbage already went up to
50 pesos. Why is it cheaper at the trading post? Yes. Before it gets here, it's
been passed several times. - Oh! - Just like this. I ordered from one of our
suppliers there. - Yes. - He padded the price. But this is from the trading post?
Yes, this is from the trading post. We have labor cost in removing the leaves. We
buy that with the leaves. So, when you buy, they're still wrapped in leaves? Yes,
then we clean them. Okay, you clean them. That's why it becomes 50 pesos here. It's
probably more expensive in Manila. Yes. In the wet markets in Manila, the price per
kilo is 80 to 100 pesos. Does Janaret know their product is priced this much? What
will you feel if after five months of intense labor, the produce that you cared for
so much only fetched 10 pesos per kilo? You think about how hard the labor was and
you even got the kids to help. The low price is kind of insulting, Ma'am.
Because... you expected a good price, but what did we end up with? This is not the
first time Janaret lost money in the sale. For the sake of her children, they know
they can't stop farming. Why do you continue to farm? Even if things have turned
out this way, we still hope that we get the chance to be able to pay our debts.
It's really a gamble, Ma'am. How much do you owe? Going maybe to 200. Oh, no.
200,000? Yes, Ma'am. How will you pay your 200,000 pesos debt? We have to continue
farming and hope for luck... that we'll be able to pay. There's a saying that a
person who knows how to farm will not go hungry. But it seems this is not true for
the farmers in Buguias. This is why Janaret is working hard to put her children
through school. They dream that someday their children will escape the fate of
tilling the land. There's nowhere else we can go to, Ma'am. There's nowhere else.
We don't want to steal or... do bad... - Do bad things? - Yes. So, we'll just
endure all of this. In going around Buguias, I learned that Janeret is not the only
one who suffered bad luck. At the foot of a hill, we came across what could be
described as a cabbage cemetery. Farmers worked hard on growing these cabbages for
five months. But because they know they'll just lose money if they sell this in the
trading post, some farmers in Buguias just opt to leave the product of their labor
to rot here. In our culture, the season of harvest is a season for celebration. But
today, this is a season for sadness. They have to bury the cabbage that they
labored to grow. What will you do to these cabbages? Will you sell them? No.
They'll be fertilizer. How? As compost. So, you'll just let them rot? Yes. You
won't sell them? Why not? The price is too low. Because the price is too low. How
much will they fetch in the market? 2 pesos. Why just two bucks? What did they say?
The big ones are oversized. The big ones are oversized? If their cabbage will fetch
only 2 pesos per kilo, they won't even make enough to pay the delivery truck and
gasoline. There won't be enough for transportation. And? Then you still have to pay
the por dia who will carry the produce to the vehicles. - Yes. - It's worth one
peso. - It's worth one peso? - Yes. You'll lose money? Yes. Why would you bother to
harvest... if no one will buy? The season of harvest... has also become the season
of tilling. Which includes turning into compost the cabbage that they worked hard
to grow for five months. According to the report from the regional field office in
Cordillera and the local government, it was confirmed that there was no oversupply
of primary vegetables in Baguio Trading Center and in La Trinidad. In fact, there's
a reduction in production in 2023 if you compare it to 2022. We tried to ask the
opinion of the Department of Agriculture, but they refused to make a statement. On
January 8, the Department of Agriculture released news that the price of cabbage is
back to normal. There is no oversupply because all the cabbages in the wet markets
are sold. Now I understand why only a few vegetables are brought to trading posts.
It's because instead of harvesting them, they are left to rot. Until now, the
government could not explain the real reason for the price drop of cabbages. Some
blamed the farmers for planting too much. Some suspected smuggling. And some said
this is the result of importation from other countries. Whatever the reason, only
one thing is sure... farmers are the only losers in this situation. The people who
worked hard in the fields will go home in tears. I used to think that pests and
typhoons are the only enemies of farmers. But after witnessing what happened to the
farms in Buguias... I learned that the real enemies are neither the pests or
typhoons. The bigger enemies... are people. I am Kara David, and this is I-Witness.