Recommended Video
Siargao is no Disneyland, but it plays the part well. Except the airport is the ticket booth, the coastline is the ride, and somehow, no one ever finds the exit. Just 33 kilometers around, the island is quaint enough to circle in a day, yet vast in the lives it holds. For Maria Lalaine Tokong, a Lumad musician who calls it home, the island’s fame is bittersweet: the beauty is adored, yes, but too often at its own expense.
RELATED: How Siargao Island Inspired Uruguayan Artist Manuel Arnabal
She Looks Beyond the Picture-Perfect Postcard
The appeal isn’t hard to catch. World-class surf breaks, locals who make you feel like you’ve been friends forever, and a pace of life that slows the city static in your head. Come once and you’ll want to stay, whether you’re a Manileño or a foreigner chasing a reset.
But it was after a Facebook post by Tokong that more eyes turned to Siargao’s quiet crisis. She voiced what many had swallowed: paradise was being played like a playground.
“These days, everything feels heavier, not just in our hearts, but in our pockets,” she wrote on a more recent post. “Medicine prices double, fuel and electricity rise little by little, and even the most basic household needs now feel like luxuries.” Parents silently skip meals so their children can eat; elders weigh medicine against food. For an island built on simplicity, the weight of survival grows heavier by the day.
So, you see, change is moving faster than the community can keep pace, but through her work, Tokong insists on carrying her island’s stories—both the beauty and the breaking.
She Lends the Island Her Voice
Long before she found her online voice, she was already speaking through her own.
“I’m a musician and songwriter who carries the stories of my island in my songs,” she says. “Through my work, I honor our history, protect our environment, and give voice to my community.”
We hear it in “Isla Bayuron,” an original Siargaonon song by their band Going Mary. It plays like a love letter to the island, but beneath the melody is a plea for outsiders to pause, listen, and truly see.
Pamatia ang bayud (Listen to the waves)
Kaiban an hoyohoy sa hangin (Together with the whispers of the wind)
Kanijugan sa baybayon (Companions of the shoreline)
Kagana sa kabuntagon (Beauty of the morning)
Sa pagsubang sa adlaw (As the sun rises)
Marajaw karajaw (So wonderful, so beautiful)
Ay kamaay, mga basura sa baybay (But oh, the trash on the shore)
Waya hipusa og gilabay (Left uncollected and thrown away)
Hinunua og huna-hunaa, kay ini para sa atoa (Instead, think about it—this is for all of us)
The lyrics, both tender and unflinching, remind us of two things: the island’s quiet beauty, and the identity woven into it.
“Siargao is alive. It has a heartbeat, a history, a soul. When you come here, you’re stepping into someone’s home. Treat it with the same respect you would your own.”
– Maria Tokong’s message to the visitors and inhabitants of Siargao
She Lives the Legacy of Strong Women
When asked what shaped her, Tokong points to the women in her life. “I was raised by strong, grounded women who lived with deep respect for the land and for one another,” she says. “They taught me resilience, humility, and the quiet strength that comes from protecting what you love.”
It’s this legacy she hopes to pass forward—not just to her fellow Siargaonons, but to women anywhere who want to spark change in their own communities.
“Start where you are, with what you have,” she says. “Listen to your people, act with love, and stay consistent. Even the smallest steps, when taken with purpose, can create waves of change and inspire others to follow.”
So no, this isn’t a PSA telling visitors to stay away from the island. Quite the opposite. Love it as the locals do. Speak up when you see harm. And never forget that the island’s people are part of its magic.
“I understand that speaking up may attract hate, but that’s okay, as I get where they’re coming from,” Tokong reflects.
“But my heart and my soul speak for the goodness of everyone—to spark awareness, to plant seeds of change, and to remind those who are suffering that they are never invisible and that what they feel is both valid and reasonable.”
– Maria Tokong on how using her voice to speak up comes from a place of genuine care
The magic of Cloud 9 only lasts if everyone treats it with care. That means respecting the waves, the community, and the island that makes it possible. Keep it clean, keep it fair, and keep it alive. Cloud 9 should feel like Cloud 9—for everyone who comes after us, too.
Photos: CJ VERDE (via Instagram)
