Kabayan: A Captive Eagle Flies Home to the Wild

By Charina Sanz
Published in Newsbreak. (Vol. 4 No. 11, June 7, 2004)


KIDAPAWAN CITY –Somewhere in the mist-covered slopes of Apo Sandawa, a mighty banug once lived that was known to strike fear in the hearts of men. For this winged creature would descend from the sky and swoop down on a prey – man, child, beast – which it would carry home to a langub (cave) hidden far into the deepest recesses of the mountain.

For a long time, so goes this old Manobo legend, no one has seen this mighty banug who once lorded it over the highest of Philippine peaks – Apo Sandawa or Mount Apo – that majestic mountain shrouded in myth and mystery.

“We fear the banug,” says Obo-Manobo Datu Joseph Andot, 54, as he remembers this story told him by their kaapuhan (elders). “But we welcome him home because it is a thing of the forest, and all things coming from nature, should be returned. If they are lost, we too shall perish because they had been part of the lives of us lumads.”

Today, amid the rhythmic beat of the kulintang, Datu Andot along with other tribal leaders have set out to prepare lumps of betel nuts and apog (lime) wrapped in buyo leaves for a betel-nut chewing ritual called samaya in honor of one such banug called Kabayan who will be returning home.

Kabayan is a Philippine eagle (Pithecophaga jefferyi) and the first captive-bred eagle in Asia to be released to the wild. The April 22 (Earth Day) experimental release was held inside the Philippine National Oil Corporation Geothermal Production Field 701 at the Mount Apo National Park.

Right now, Kabayan, who was earlier transported to the site on March 30, is fidgeting inside the hack box where he was temporarily caged apparently oblivious to the stellar status accorded him. Kabayan - named after his sponsor, vice-presidential bet Senator Noli de Castro - can be seen from a TV monitor installed near a stage where a pre-release ceremony was held. On stage were De Castro’s wife, Arlene Sinsuat, Presidential daughter Lulli Arroyo, PNOC chief Paul Aquino, Environment Secretary Elisa Gozun, Energy Secretary Vince Perez, and re-electionist Cotabato Governor Manny Pinol.

Towards the end of the speeches, the datus have formed a half-circle for a thanksgiving ritual called pamaas. One of them held aloft in his arms a white chicken which he placed on a table and, using a knife, sliced a tiny portion of the feet to let the blood flow. But only a trickle came out, leaving some of the lumads worried. “Dapat modugo,” someone in the crowd says. “Otherwise, the spirits would be angry.”

Later, betel nuts were handed to the VIP guests for “mama” (chewing) after the rituals were held amid a whiff of electoral fever in the mountain air. “There is no politics involved here,” Philippine Eagle Foundation chair Carlos Pedrosa earlier told reporters in a press briefing. “Kabayan was chosen because of his health conditions and the timing.”

Clouds of mist now descend on a mountain top as a motley crowd of journalists had begun to trek to the actual hack site. It was an hour before noon, just before the cicadas shrilled a noonday siren, and a moment Domingo Tadena, Kabayan’s caretaker, had been waiting all his life.

FREEDOM

Memories still flash across Tadena’s mind as he awaits along with the others Kabayan’s mow-wit od layang (soaring home). “He has an attitude, he is wild, different sa iba,” says Tadena who witnessed the hatching of captive-bred eagles, including that of Pag-asa, the first Philippine Eagle conceived through artificial insemination in 1992.

Tadena himself handled Kabayan’s hatching on November 23, 2002. The raptor, a product of cooperative artificial insemination on the female eagle Kahayag from the male eagle Junior, is one of 30 under the captive breeding program of the Philippine Eagle Foundation in Malagos, Davao City.

From the start, Kabayan was programmed for release to the wild and was reared in an environment that simulates forest conditions with limited human interaction. “We had to wear a mask and use puppets when feeding him,” Tadena says. Live prey is also occasionally brought to him to practice his hunting skills.

Kabayan, he recalls, struggled when they pinned him down to strap an aluminum leg band and a backpack-type radio transmitter to track his movements after the release. Also implanted in his breast muscle is a microchip for identification. “He was howling when we traveled him to Mt. Apo.”

The 57-year-old Tadena, who had worked with eagles for almost 30 years, says he believes that Kabayan longs for freedom because eagles, even those bred in captivity, carry in them an “instinct” of the wild. “They want to stay outside the cage. Napakasarap,” he smiles. “Sometimes when we forget to lock a cage, they fly on their own not wanting to return, that’s why we have to capture them back.”

It is now half an hour after the hack box had been opened and still Kabayan, who strikes an imperial pose, refuses to budge from his perch. By now, feathers crowning his head are raised into a crest, as he cranes his neck towards the direction of the viewing deck which, although sealed by a canvass blind, are pierced with square-shaped holes. Protruding from the holes are bulky camera lenses and curious faces. Hushed whispers and mobile phone ring tones also gave the masquerade away.

“He is distracted,” Tadena explains. “Or maybe he doesn’t know that the cage is open and that he is free to fly.” Someone had by this time slammed a steel roof, prompting the eagle to fly off to a nearby log. Kabayan was seen trotting to the far end of the log and once again, settled on a perch.

Finally, just before 1 p.m., Kabayan flew to freedom back to the wilds and was no longer seen in the hack site. “It is very fulfilling,” exclaims Tadena. “I have so much trust that he can survive.”

But the “wilds” Kabayan is coming home to is a troubled terrain that sits atop a potentially explosive ecological hotspot. “We do not discount the possibility that the eagle will die,” admits Lito Cereno, PEF program manager for education, and although all “methods and instruments” were in place to ensure his survival, "it is still part of the probability.”

Beleaguered mountain

Still, chances of Kabayan meeting another eagle in Mt. Apo which stands at 2954 meters above sea level are almost nil. With only seven pairs or 14 eagles spotted in the entire 72,112.59 hectares of the national park, Kabayan may have to mate with another captive-bred eagle to be released to the wild. “This could be Mia,” says Tadena. “She grew up with Kabayan together.”

Kabayan and Mia are only about 500 remaining pairs of Philippine eagles in the country, a number that is critically low, says PEF director Dennis Salvador. “That is why we do captive breeding . . . to put new blood in the gene pool”. This number can even dwindle due to the rapid destruction of their habitats, poaching and the disappearance of prey population.

Mount Apo, a known sanctuary and historic home of the eagle, had been tagged as one of the country's 17 environmental hot spots. Recently, the mountain was closed to climbers because of the tons of waste found in the trails that led to the further deterioration of the forest.

Located about 40 aerial kms. west of Davao City, Mount Apo straddles the mountain ridge dividing Davao City and Davao del Sur on the east and Cotabato on the west. The ASEAN Heritage Site Committee, the International Union for Conservation of Nature, and the World Bank had recognized it as a rich heritage site and an important center for biodiversity.

Revered as sacred mountain by the indigenous peoples living in its foothills, it is also being claimed by them as part of their ancestral domain. On February 14, the Obo-Menuvus had been issued a Certificate of Ancestral Domain Title covering only about 3.2 hectares of land located in Barangay Ilomavis and Barangay Balabag, Kidapawan City.

A 12-kilometer road from Kidapawan City passing through Barangay Ilomavis however leads to the PNOC site where a 12-megawatt geothermal power plant was built right in the heart of the mountain. A massive opposition waged more than a decade ago was marked by a D’yandi ritual where 21 datus forged a blood pact, “vowing to defend Mt. Apo to the last drop of our blood”.

“We had survived the resistance but PNOC pledged that we help develop and replenish the natural resources,” says Energy Secretary Vincent Perez. He claims that they were able to reforest 591 hectares and drilled only 66 geothermal wells.

This remark though came in the heels of a new law passed on Feb. 3 excluding the PNOC’s geothermal reservation containing 7,010,000 square meters from the Mt. Apo Natural Park because of a “prior vested right”. The law - Republic Act No. 9237 also known as the Mount Apo Protected Area Act of 2003 - only mandates the PNOC to directly assist in “reforestation and other preservation activities” in the park.

But PNOC was caught in a controversy in recent months because of the alleged “arsenic poisoning” found among some villagers living near the geothermal plant. But while local environment and health officials have disputed findings made by experts led by Dr. Nelia Maramba, a toxicologist from the University of the Philippines, a group of NGOs advocating for environmental protection of Mt. Apo stands pat on Maramba’s findings.

“We are hoping that eventually he will settle here,” says Cereno referring to the PNOC’s Site B where Kabayan was released because of its “suitability in terms of food and vegetation”. Asked about the dangers of Kabayan being caught in the PNOC’s mammoth facilities and transmission lines, he replies that based on their studies the “live wires are only about three meters in distance and unless both ends are accidentally touched, it will not cause electrocution.”

But the fear of the mythical banug still remains among the lumads who are anxious about the eagle preying on their domestic animals despite assurances from PEF personnel that Kabayan is not inclined to do so.

"We would have wanted a meeting with all tribes to discuss the return of the eagle," says Datu Andot. He adds that while they were informed about the raptor's entry, other tribal groups do not seem to favor his return. Living around the park aside from the Obo-Menuvu are the Bagobo, K'lagan, Kaulo, and Ata-Manobo tribes. "But since he is already here, we might as well take care of him," he says.

Although feared, the banug was also known as a “protector of Mt. Apo”, so goes another legend. One day when the forest was about to be devoured by fire, the mighty bird dived into the water and soon darted up flapping its wet wings to douse the fire.

“This was how Apo Sandawa was once saved,” Loga, a young Manobo woman, says. “And when he was gone, the forest had also lost its protector.” ###