When Baryo Children Imagine with lady Kyla Balibagoso
- Kristine Buenavista

- 6 days ago
- 7 min read
Updated: 5 days ago

In a time when success is often measured by visibility, fortune, or recognition, Lady Kyla Balibagoso of Barotac Viejo moves in a different direction. Her work emerges from environmental activism as a way of responding to the needs of her community and the land that sustains it. Rather than simply speaking about pressing issues, she engages with them directly, grounding her efforts in the realities of her locality and in deliberate, headstrong action shaped by care and conviction.
Her involvement with organizations such as Green Eco-warriors, where she was among those who helped build and strengthen the movement, and Dakila PH reflects this approach. Through initiatives like Tambay Tinapay and community-based environmental education—particularly focused on coastal areas—she works alongside people, sharing practices of stewardship rather than imposing solutions. The emphasis remains on participation, presence, and long-term responsibility.

Shaped by humble beginnings that redirected her path, her journey continues to unfold in ways that mirror the environments she works with—where water meets land and sky. Through rebuilding, revitalizing, and reclaiming spaces meant for nature, her work speaks to broader social and environmental realities, offering care not just for the present moment, but for what endures.
Not only for herself, but for the generations that will live with the results of today’s choices.
Not only for people, but for the ecosystems that make life possible.
What did community feel like to you, growing up?
Lady Kyla: I honestly did not grow up in a peaceful community. My childhood was filled with neighbors shouting at each other, relatives bickering nonstop, and other highly stimulating things like loud music, chaotic happenings, and some personal circumstances. Because of this, I can’t even pick up a book when I am at home. I only read them at school because it was required. I don’t remember ever feeling happy reading a book. It was my upbringing, probably; nonetheless, I don’t entirely blame the people in the community I grew up with. I realized that we were so busy surviving that reading became a class status and a privilege. Then again, beyond books, I was still thankful to learn a lot of things: mag-sipad mais, mag-dabok sa kalan, mag-tanom utan kag mga bulak, mag-saka sa mga kahoy, mangita ipot-ipot, mag-himo storya-storya gamit ang mga dahon kag stick, kag mag-hulag sang antenna para magklaro ang TV nga lantawan ka tanan. I had a very imperfect community, but they are still a big part of why I turned into who I am today and why I continue dreaming of a better world for everyone.
Green Eco-Warriors began as a youth-led environmental
effort. What need—or restlessness—were you responding
to when you helped found it?
Lady Kyla: Green Eco-Warriors was founded by Sir Jaspare Barrido to provide an on-ground team, mobilizers, campaigners, and organizers for the project "Let’s GO for Greener Barotac Viejo." I was, and remain, its first and current president. For my part, I helped build the organization—from drafting important documents to establishing systems to building comradeship.

There was a lot of passion among the youth back then; I felt like the pandemic made their pent-up energy almost burst. They needed a platform where they could learn how to be part of a new community, how to co-create its environment, how to use their talents for others, and how to turn their passion into something greater than themselves. I personally saw the adults and our seniors doing their part and thought, "Why not join in and contribute?" I felt we shared the same urge and a kind of spark—to be held by a community and to do something for each other. With all the problems cemented by the realities I observed, what was once comfortable became uncomfortable. I felt a need for young seeds to start sprouting, so I got up—and other young leaders rose, too.
How did your environmental work slowly find its way
toward children and storytelling through Tambay, Tinapay?
Lady Kyla: I believe we owe it to children to create spaces they can reclaim—where they’re heard, acknowledged, and empowered. That belief shaped GO for Greener Barotac Viejo’s Forum on Proper Waste Management Among Children, launched on December 11, 2022, during GEW’s first anniversary at the Nagpana Ati Community. We kept innovating, even working with Kikik Kollektive and their zine Bakintol ni Nanay to help children understand better.
Later, I encountered the Bagong Silang Community Library by Kuya Lawrence of DAKILA Ph. Seeing how comfortable the children were, and how much they loved reading, reminded me of my own childhood. It sparked an idea. After talking with Kuya Lawrence, I worked on a proposal, and on September 17, 2023, Tambay, Tinapay: Tuon kag Tambay sa Kilid Baybay finally happened in Barangay Nueva Sevilla, my barangay.

The name reflects its spirit: a relaxed gathering with snacks, learning, and community by the shore, where environmental storytelling comes alive. We began with coastal communities but are now building other variations. The goal was to form a community of readers that could grow into environmental leaders. Since I learned late how revolutionary books can be, I wanted to change that for other children. We wove our environmental advocacy into the library, started writing illustrated stories, and are now working on our first zine about mangroves.
We learned that children love stories rooted in their realities. They smile when they feel listened to, and they thrive when learning feels free—without rigid structures that resemble traditional schools.

When you sit with children during Tambay Tinapay,
what do you notice about how they understand care
— for the earth, for each other, for themselves?
Lady Kyla: During our very first session, instead of us facilitators handing out the bread individually, we had the children form a circle. We gave them the whole bag and asked them to distribute it themselves, making sure everyone got a piece. We expected chaos but were delighted to see each child get their share—with none left behind—and it was entirely their doing. It was a simple gesture, but it made us appreciate them deeply.
There was also an elder sister who always brought her little sister because their parents were out at sea, recouping losses from bad weather the day before. During activities, she and her friends made sure the younger one was included, and at snack time, they would share a cup and bowl they brought from home.
Whenever I go around Nueva Sevilla, the children say hello and always ask, “San-o naman ta liwat ma tambay, nang?” I love that they have fallen in love with the community we’ve built together and that they are comfortable enough to consider us part of their lives.
One time at the barangay’s Esplanade Area, a child excitedly told me they had picked up trash and disposed of it properly because they remembered what we had discussed. They also ask when the next mangrove planting will be, and always ask about the next project session, saying they miss reading and playing with us.
What I notice is that the children understand care not as separate lessons, but as one natural collective practice. Care for each other builds a trusting community where care for the earth becomes a shared responsibility. Ultimately, this circle of mutual care makes them feel seen, valued, and connected. Their joyful question, “San-o naman ta liwat ma tambay, nang?” captures this beautifully. What a privilege to be one of the communities that makes them feel like that.
Activism often asks for urgency. Working with
children often asks for patience. How do you
hold those two rhythms together?
Lady Kyla: This is truly a major dilemma for me as well. I see how urgent everything must be, both globally and locally, especially since each new day holds the possibility of another crisis. It’s as if we’re not allowed to catch our breath. However, I also know that urgency alone can burn anyone out. The pressure to be bold, relentless, and quick all the time can take everything from you.
So, I see working with children as a different kind of activism—or perhaps it isn’t activism? Maybe it’s more of a long-term organizing strategy. I feel like patience can be a powerful pathway: it is slow yet methodical, and it doesn’t kill the spark.
In this fight—which requires us to challenge, dismantle, and change a system that will take a long time to transform—our victory won't be secured by the current generation burning out. It will be sustained by planting seeds of care and critical thought in the next one.
Stories can be revolutionary, whether they come from books or are shared orally. Letting children participate can unlock something in their young minds and help instill lasting values. Building a community with them ensures the fight will continue.
In Tambay, Tinapay, the urgency is embedded in the stories. However, the act of storytelling is itself a form of resistance—it softens the urgency, creates a patient process, and provides a gentle net for them to grow within. The pressure and the truth will always be there, but the way we deliver it to children doesn’t have to be as harsh as the conditions they already live in.
The most important thing for us is not to rush them into doing bold things for others, but to nurture them to be resilient, critical thinkers, creatives, and grounded individuals. The urgency fuels my commitment. The patience comes from knowing that the child who learns to care for her sister today, share her bread fairly, and ask about a mangrove tree is internalizing the very principles our urgent activism is fighting for. I am eager to create a world for them, so I must take the time to build it with them.

Looking ahead, what kind of future are you hoping
these children will not just inherit, but help imagine?
Lady Kyla: I hope these children dare to imagine beyond the limits instilled in them and the grounded empowerment to build what they envision. I hope the future is not pre-determined for them—that they feel it is theirs to shape. I hope they live in a future that honors dignity and offers care for all.
Thinking of a certain book, I can't help but hope they imagine themselves as healers, too, for the future belongs to those who can heal. It belongs to those who can take the wounds of the world and transform them into wisdom. I hope they help imagine a world where coexistence feels natural again, and a planet where the web of life is revered.
Above all, I want them to inherit and imagine a world so gentle, nourishing, and nurturing that fireflies illuminate starry nights, moss grows abundantly, and the next generation no longer needs Tambay Tinapay.

Photo Contributor
Jasper Angelo ChinNobleza

Content Contributor
Zippy Saint Thomas



Madamo nga salamat, Kikik Kollektive!
It is through the imagination of our children that the revolution will continue to resist the current system. Our mission is to create a world where they do not need privilege to imagine.
Love and Gratitude. 🍄🌼