Cartoon by Agilis Capon
Every day in Dupax del Norte, the mountains are still quiet, the rivers run clear, farms breathe, and Indigenous families begin their day on land they have defended for generations. Yet for months now, these same roads have been blocked by human barricades—not to stop progress, but to ask a question no court order has clearly answered: who decided that these mountains could be drilled?
Since October 6, 2025, residents from five barangays in Dupax del Norte, namely, Inaban, Parai, Bitnong, Munguia, and Oyao, have maintained barricades along roads leading to the exploration site of Woggle Corporation, a British owned mining firm holding an exploration permit covering 3,101.11 hectares of land. The opposition is not rooted in ignorance of mining laws nor blind resistance to development. It is rooted in a simple claim, the people were never meaningfully consulted, never gave consent, and were informed only after permits had already been issued.
As the company moves forward and the courts enforce injunctions, the people of Dupax remain standing in the middle of the road, defending not only their land but their right to be heard.
How the Permit Came Before the People
Woggle Corporation began processing its application for an exploration permit as early as 2022. Three years later, on August 4, 2025, the Department of Environment and Natural Resources–Mines and Geosciences Bureau (DENR-MGB) issued Exploration Permit No. 000030 II, allowing the company to explore for copper and gold in Dupax del Norte.
What followed was not a public consultation, but a Facebook post. Residents and even local officials only became aware of the permit after the Sangguniang Barangay of Oyao publicly announced on August 8, 2025 that it had received a letter from Woggle Corporation notifying them of the permit’s approval and the imminent start of exploration activities. For many in Dupax, this was the first time they had heard of the project.
On August 15, company representatives met with local officials to justify their exploration rights. This prompted immediate backlash. The Sangguniang Bayan of Dupax del Norte convened a committee hearing on August 20, attended by Woggle representatives, including General Manager Lorne Harvey. During the hearing, local officials described the permit process as a “betrayal of public trust,” questioning both the transparency of the permit’s approval and reports of logging activities allegedly conducted without proper authorization. A petition opposing the exploration soon followed, signed by residents, barangay officials, and community leaders.
Consultation or Notification?
At the heart of the dispute lies the question of consultation. Woggle Corporation maintains that it followed all procedures under the Philippine Mining Act of 1995. However, barangay officials dispute this claim. Records show that Woggle only requested a Certificate of Consultation from Barangay Oyao on August 21, 2025—after the permit had already been issued. The Barangay Council denied the request on August 25, stating clearly that no genuine public consultation had taken place.
What the company described as a “public consultation” on August 15 was, according to the barangay, merely an Information and Education Campaign (IEC)—a one-way presentation rather than a dialogue. This distinction matters, consultation under the law implies participation, deliberation, and the opportunity for communities to accept or reject a proposal, not simply being informed that it is happening.
Despite this, Woggle proceeded to schedule a meeting on October 8 to discuss its Community Development Program (CDP), including a proposed ₱10 million fund to be shared among affected communities. Barangay officials, supported by the Vice Mayor and members of the Sangguniang Bayan, refused to attend. To participate, they argued, would be to legitimize a consultation process that never truly occurred.
Barricades, Courts, and the Force of the Law
With petitions unanswered and operations moving forward, residents took matters into their own hands. In September 2025, barricades were erected on roads—many of them on private property—to block the entry of drilling equipment. Several residents filed complaints alleging that Woggle employees entered private land without consent and stored equipment there without permission, actions that require written landowner approval under exploration guidelines.
On October 10, Woggle Corporation secured a 72-hour Temporary Restraining Order (TRO), claiming that the barricades unlawfully obstructed public roads and prevented the company from exercising its permitted rights. The Bayombong Regional Trial Court Branch 30 extended the TRO on October 14, forcing residents to dismantle their barricades while their own complaints were effectively set aside.
On October 16, masked individuals and police officers dismantled remaining barricades. While authorities claimed the operation was peaceful, residents recount being pushed and forcibly dispersed as they formed human chains. The Nueva Vizcaya Provincial Police Office deployed 58 personnel, with 80 more on standby, under court orders to arrest anyone resisting the injunction.
The response drew widespread condemnation from civil society, religious institutions, youth groups, and environmental organizations. The Sangguniang Kabataan of Barangay Munguia called the police action “a direct assault on the dignity, rights, and sovereignty of Novo Vizcayanos.
Arrests and a Growing Public Outcry
Tensions escalated further on January 23, 2026, when police arrested anti-mining leader Florentino Daynos II and six Indigenous women during a confrontation related to continued resistance against the exploration. They were charged with resistance and disobedience, obstruction of justice, and direct assault. After three days, all were released due to lack of evidence.
Police officials insisted they were merely enforcing court orders. Yet for many observers, the image of Indigenous women arrested for defending their land became a powerful symbol of whose voices were being prioritized—and whose were being silenced.
Watersheds, Protected Areas, and What Is at Stake
Even setting aside questions of due process, the location of the exploration area raises serious environmental concerns. The permit covers land within or near critical ecological zones, including the Dupax Watershed Forest Reserve and areas proximate to the Salinas Natural Monument, Bangan Hill National Park, Casecnan Protected Landscape, and Mount Pulag National Park.
Environmental groups such as the Advocates of Science and Technology for the People (AGHAM) warn that mining in watershed areas threatens water security not just for Dupax del Norte, but for communities far beyond it. Past environmental investigation missions in mining affected areas across the Philippines paint a sobering picture: polluted rivers, damaged ecosystems, and livelihoods destroyed long after promised economic gains fail to materialize.
Dupax del Norte is not just mineral-rich. It is fertile, agricultural, and central to the province’s water system. For the residents, the fear is not abstract, it is about survival.
Whose Justice Does the Law Protect?
If the law is the law, then how did this happen? The Philippine Mining Act requires consultation. The Local Government Code mandates local approval. Environmental laws demand social acceptability. And yet, in Dupax del Norte, permits were issued, equipment mobilized, and injunctions enforced while communities insist they were never genuinely consulted.
The courts say they are upholding the rule of law. The police say they are only following orders. The company insists it complied with procedure. But standing between these institutions is a community that has been dispersed, arrested, and told that resistance itself is illegal.
Even if the permit is legally valid, even if every procedural box was technically ticked, there remains a deeper question that legal language cannot erase. The mountains of Dupax del Norte sustain lives, water systems, and futures, mining here does not end at the drill site, its consequences flow downstream.
This is not merely a dispute over copper and gold. It is a test of what justice means in practice. Is justice found in injunctions that clear roads but ignores consent? In permits issued without dialogue? In arrests made while petitions go unanswered?
The people of Dupax del Norte are not asking for special treatment. They are asking for what the law itself promises: participation, consent, and protection. Until those demands are met, no amount of gold beneath the soil can justify the cost of taking it.
No endorsement, no exploration.
Watersheds are protected.
The people have the right to a clean, healthy, and sustainable environment.
Article by Marinelle Echano