Additional 15 -Hectares Donation: A Gift of Hope, or a Cost We Have Yet to Measure?

Daphne Santuyo

Land tells stories. Not just of ownership, but of sacrifice, vision, and the difficult choices leaders make in the name of progress.

When the province of Zamboanga Sibugay was created in 2001, it was more than a political milestone. It was an act of faith. Faith that separation from Zamboanga del Sur would allow the people of Sibugay to finally stand on their own, to grow at their own pace, and to shape a future that truly reflected their needs. At the center of that bold leap was Ipil.

Under the leadership of then Mayor Atty. Rey Andre Olegario, the Local Government Unit of Ipil donated 10 hectares of land to the Provincial Local Government Unit so the newly born province could build its capitol. It was not an easy decision. Land has always been valuable, even when it appears idle. Yet the LGU chose generosity, believing that hosting the seat of provincial power would bring long-term benefits not only to the province, but to Ipil itself.

Today, that belief feels justified.

Standing atop Ipil Heights is a beautiful and elegant capitol building- commanding, symbolic, alive with purpose. Where there was once an almost unused Boy Scout Camp, where grass and trees quietly occupied the mountain, now rises the heart of provincial governance. Looking at the capitol site today, one cannot help but say, “Wow.” The transformation is dramatic. What was once dismissed as an almost useless mountain has become a landmark of pride.

And let us ask the hard but honest question: didn’t Ipil develop more rapidly because it became the capital of the province? Roads, businesses, services, people-growth followed governance. Had we not broken away from Zamboanga del Sur, would Ipil have reached this level of development this quickly? It is difficult to believe so. The first 10-hectare donation was not a loss; it was a catalyst.

But history does not stop moving forward.

Twenty-five years after that first act of generosity, the Provincial Capitol continues to expand. And rightly so, progress requires space. Let us admit it, the province has funds, and development plans need land to breathe. More offices, more facilities, more improvements. All of these require room to grow.

Yet this is where the conversation becomes heavier.

It can be recalled that in previous years, tensions had already surfaced between the PLGU and local leadership. One particularly painful reminder was during a Christmas celebration, when political bickering resulted in the PLGU not being allowed to use the area fronting the stage. It was a small incident in the eyes of some, but symbolically, it showed how fragile cooperation can be when politics overshadows partnership. And if we look around today, beyond occasional tree-planting activities, the Local Government of Ipil has not done anything truly remarkable in the areas surrounding the capitol. There remain around 40 hectares of undeveloped land mostly grassland stretching along the LGU ridge. Vast, quiet, waiting. Land full of potential, yet unrealized. Then, before the year ended, another decision was made.

An additional 15 hectares of land was donated to the Provincial Government by the new Ipil administration.

This is where emotions collide with reason.

Mayor Ramses Troy Olegario, son of the former mayor who led the donation of the first 10 hectares now finds himself carrying both a legacy and a burden. What was in his mind when this decision was made? Perhaps he looked at history and saw success. Perhaps he believed that since the province has more funds, development would come faster if more land were made available. More development could mean more jobs, more livelihood opportunities for families living nearby, and eventually, more revenue for the municipality.

The idea is not difficult to understand. It follows the principle of the domino effect: one act leads to another, progress triggering progress, growth feeding growth. Despite the difficult questions and the weight of sacrifice, one truth remains clear: the Municipality of Ipil has never been a town that gives blindly. History shows that when Ipil gives, it does so with vision, courage, and a deep belief in shared progress. The first 10-hectare donation proved that generosity, when guided by purpose, can transform an “almost useless mountain” into the beating heart of an entire province. Today, even after the additional 15-hectare donation, Ipil still stands on solid ground-both literally and figuratively. With 25 hectares of land still undeveloped around the capitol area, the municipality retains the space, the opportunity, and the authority to shape its own future. More importantly, it retains something far greater than land: the trust, resilience, and determination of its people.

Ipil is no longer a town waiting to grow. It is a town that has already grown, confident, experienced, and aware of its worth. Any development that comes next will not happen because Ipil is giving too much, but because Ipil understands the value of partnership and knows when progress benefits everyone. The challenge now is not fear of loss, but the wise stewardship of what remains. With transparent leadership, open dialogue, and a firm commitment to protecting the interests of its constituents, Ipil can ensure that every hectare whether donated or retained serves a greater purpose.

In the end, the story of Ipil is not one of sacrifice alone. It is a story of strength, foresight, and faith in the future. And if history has taught us anything, it is this: Ipil does not lose when it plans carefully. It leads.