By Shan Kenshin Ecaldre 

CABUYAO, Laguna — In the rice fields of Nueva Ecija where harvests were plenty but progress was scarce, Mags Camoral was born on September 18, 1973. Seventh of nine children, he grew up in a family that struggled to survive. His father took on any work he could find as farmer, fisher, carpenter, and even bread seller. His mother sold goods whenever and wherever there are buyers.

Though his mother’s persistence brought them to private Catholic schools, the lessons that would shape Mags’ life were not learned inside the classroom. They were learned in the daily grind of the fields and in the unyielding struggle of his parents to make ends meet.

“Our harvest was always abundant, but we never progressed,” Mags said. “My mother used to say we just lacked diligence. But diligence was never the issue, it was the lack of support for agriculture. In the end, only a few truly benefit.”

After high school, he tried college in Manila, initially pursuing Secondary Education at Jose Rizal University. He worked while studying until work finally took over his life. At 19, he worked in a factory.

What followed were years of hard labor on the shop floor. It consisted of a day in textiles, three days in figurine-making, a stint in a biscuit plant, and eventually the car industry where he would stay for more than 15 years. “In 1994, I was earning P96 ($3.66) a day,” he said. “By 1996, it became P103 ($3.93), then P116 ($4.43). The work was hard. Managers shouted at us often.”

Like many contractuals, he cycled through the dreaded “endo” five months in, then out, the routine termination that kept workers disposable and unions at bay.

Finding his voice in organizing

In 2008, after roughly 13 years in the factory, something snapped the routine. A co-worker suffered sexual harassment. Mags sought help from Gabriela, a women’s organization. That decision pulled him into the orbit of the labor movement. He joined organizing efforts and linked up with the workers’ formation Olalia.

In 2010, workers at F.tech Philippines Mfg., Inc. (FPMI) in Laguna Technopark formed a union, electing him as their first president. But their certification bid was crushed by black propaganda and a military-backed anti-union drive.

The union lost. It could have ended there, but it didn’t. “That defeat pushed me further,” he told Bulatlat. By 2011, Mags left the factory to organize full-time.

Immersion and the urban poor

He moved to Cavite and embedded himself among the urban poor. He saw families living under bridges, men driving tricycles for a pittance, women taking in laundry or scavenging recyclables to get through the day. It confirmed what he already knew from the farms. Hard work alone could not undo systemic poverty. “Even if farmers worked hard, middlemen and big businesses were the ones who profited. The poor remained poor.”

For Mags, “rest” is not an escape, it’s a community. “Sometimes rest means discussions, small talks, reading, or helping in their daily lives,” he said. “As activists, our rest is joining rallies and protests. Our main work is organizing. When the masses are mobilized, that’s when our true role is fulfilled.”

Repression and the will to return

On March 7, 2021, during the coordinated raids known as the Bloody Sunday in Southern Tagalog, Mags, as spokesperson of Bagong Alyansang Makabayan Laguna (BAYAN LAGUNA), was among those arrested.

“At the moment of arrest, I wasn’t afraid. I even shouted,” he recounts. “But fear came after two days in detention, not for myself, but for my comrades and for my mother. It was traumatic. I couldn’t move on right away, but eventually I returned to organizing after my release.”

The trauma sat alongside a stubborn resolve that had marked his life since childhood. When systems fail, the answer is not retreat but organizing.

An LGBT worker in the 1990s—and after

Mags carries another layer of struggle: he is part of the LGBT community. In factories and in job applications, he met prejudices head on.

“Some would immediately reject me, saying, ‘You’re not really a man,’” he said. “At work, I was treated differently, especially in promotions. Opportunities abroad were given to others because I was considered ‘female.’ In the 1990s, discrimination was worse. In the community, I was often insulted, ‘you’re not a real man.’ But I continued working and proved I could do the job.”

His story is a reminder that workplace rights and gender rights are not parallel tracks. They intersect in real lives, at hiring desks, on production lines, in pay slips and promotion boards.

The leap into national politics

In the run-“We bear the brunt of this systemic neglect, and today’s protest is our call for the government to finally carry the heavier burden it owes to Filipino learners and educators.”up to the 2025 elections, Mags was asked to serve as the 6th nominee of Bayan Muna. He describes that moment not in the language of ambition, but of responsibility.

“Honestly, I was more nervous than afraid,” he admits. “It’s a huge responsibility, a national responsibility. My comrades encouraged me, saying I was already doing propaganda work daily. Even though we didn’t win, the challenge made me stronger.”

Whether inside a factory, on the picket line, or on a partylist slate, Mags’ compass remains steady. He continues to stand with the toiling majority, turn grievances into organization, and organization into power.

Defend workers, defend Life

Now 51 and turning 52 this September, Mags serves as spokesperson of Defend Workers Southern Tagalog, an alliance formed to protect workers’ rights in a region that has seen both industrial growth and intensified repression. In that role, he keeps three demands in clear view. These are living wages that actually sustain families, genuine land reform that breaks the back of rural exploitation, and the freedom for workers and poor communities to organize without fear.

He knows these are not abstract slogans. They are the difference between eating and skipping meals, staying in school and dropping out, going home safe and being taken during a dawn raid.

“I chose to take action because this is what my heart seeks,” Mags said. “I am happy with what I am doing, happy whenever there are new people who become involved. Most of all, I am inspired by the elderly who continue to fight despite their age. I would regret it if I stopped being active. What about those who gave their lives? There are elders who, even with illnesses, still chose to act.” (RTS, DAA)