These young Filipinos inherited the climate crisis. Now, they’re leading the way out.

It is scorching hot one minute, then raining the next in Negros Forest Park, located at the heart of Bacolod City, where about 40 children are sprawled across the floor of the park’s pavilion. 

In green shirts, their ates and kuyas from a youth movement called the Negrosanon Initiative for Climate and the Environment (NICE) round them up so they can begin teaching the children about climate change.

“Did you notice that it was so hot when you began coming in here, and now it’s starting to rain?” said Paul Serrano, the NICE member serving as the children’s teacher. “That’s an effect of climate change.”

WEATHER VS. CLIMATE. Serrano teaches children about climate education concepts during the NICE Kids launch on September 28, 2025, in Bacolod City. Photo by Aidan Bernales/Rappler

Manong Paul, as the children call him, goes on to explain that climate change stems from emissions released by factories, cars, and power plants, comparing them to a blanket that traps heat, triggering stronger storms and increased drought.

This event, which marks the launch of the NICE Kids chapter, is not their only project to be affected by bad weather. 

Earlier that one weekend in September, NICE was set to host the Visayas leg of a local youth conference where young environmental advocates would discuss concrete, localized solutions to the climate crisis.

Instead, Typhoon Opong (Bualoi) hit parts of the Visayas, which led to the conference’s postponement. It was the third storm to hit the country within a span of 10 days, with the three storms leaving at least 42 people dead and 41 injured.

“The climate is a mess,” Joshua Villalobos, NICE’s secretary general, told Rappler. “So, it’s really the climate imperative that is [pushing] young people to urge governments and other players in society to transition to renewable energy.” 

According to the United Nations, dirty energy — produced by burning fossil fuels like coal, oil, and gas — is the largest contributor to global climate change, accounting for 68% of greenhouse gas emissions.

The growing calls to switch to renewable energy come with the imperative for a just energy transition, the kind that looks after those who will be displaced when switching from fossil fuels to renewable energy. (EXPLAINER: What is just energy transition?)

Across the country, young Filipinos are taking the lead in pushing for a just transition within their own communities. For them, it’s a personal fight for a liveable home, even when their neighbors and government leaders stand in their way. 

In Luzon, a battle of persistence will shape the fate of a just transition

Franciene Enriquez’s childhood was a little different than most. While other 7-year-old children were writing down their hopes and dreams on cartolinas for school projects, she was painting them onto placards and taking them to the streets.

Now, at 21, she leads Kabataan para sa Kalikasan ng Atimonan (KAPAKANAN) with the same childhood instinct to write down her hopes and dreams for a just transition in her community, the coastal town of Atimonan in Quezon province.

More than a decade later, Enriquez’s wishes have yet to be granted. 

RAISING PLACARDS. Members of KAPAKANAN draw up placards and signs to protest the coal-fired power plant in Atimonan. Photo by Franciene Enriquez

For years, her hometown has been entangled with the Atimonan One Energy (A1E) project, a coal-fired power plant that Meralco PowerGen Corporation has sought to construct since 2015. 

Enriquez was only 11 at the time, but she was already fully aware of what was happening around her. She heard of dwindling fish catch, watched mountain slopes shaved bare, and said goodbye to neighbors forced out, all for the sake of “development.” 

“We don’t mean to stop our community’s progress, but this should be heavily reconsidered,” Enriquez said. 

It was her grandfather who pushed her to action. Together, they raised placards on the streets, distributed educational pamphlets, and formed KAPAKANAN for the many young people who wanted to help. 

Upon his passing, she inherited both the organization and the cause her grandfather championed. 

UNITED FOR ACTION. The young members of KAPAKANAN gather for a meeting and team-building activity. Photo by Franciene Enriquez

Still, their rival is hard to outshine with just signs, especially when it offers something more tangible than glitter: 6,000 new jobs. But Enriquez claimed the workers being brought in were not from Atimonan.

“They brought in those who already had knowledge of plants in their own areas,” she noted. “Of course, people will be blinded by these promises, but that means we won’t stop trying.”

For a while, their mission seemed to work. A coal moratorium temporarily suspended the project back in 2020. But in 2025, a decade after environmental advocates began resisting the power plant, A1E is set to resume production. (READ: For years, residents opposed the Atimonan coal plant. It’s greenlit anyway.)

“We are being sidelined,” Enriquez declared. “Sometimes, we lose all hope.”

That hope nearly vanished when military personnel in civilian clothes infiltrated a meeting Enriquez had been a part of, snapping pictures of her unprompted. It didn’t take long before she found out she had been red-tagged by the military. 

Red-tagging is a common tactic against environmental defenders in the Philippines, one of the world’s deadliest countries for environmental defenders.

“I questioned if this fight was worth it, especially since it’s life-threatening,” Enriquez bemoaned. Elders advised her to distance herself from KAPAKANAN, or, better yet, from Atimonan, the very town she has dedicated her whole life to protecting.

What kept her afloat were the many children younger than her in KAPAKANAN who waited for her to return — the ones who gathered after school to listen to her discussions, who brought their own coloring materials for placards, and who hoped to emulate her courage someday. 

GLIMMERS OF HOPE. Enriquez speaks with members of KAPAKANAN during a group discussion. Photo by Franciene Enriquez

“I don’t want them to experience this, so I will fight it,” she said.

In the Visayas, the fight for a just transition is a strategic one

For 23-year-old Villalobos, his journey as an advocate began in two places: at home and away from it.

It was a summit back in 2018 that brought him to different cities across the Philippines to observe the environmental practices of their local governments. There, he saw people protecting mangrove areas that had become eco-tourism spots, providing livelihoods for those who acted as their stewards.

“What is etched in my heart from that program is that when people take care of the environment, the environment will just take care of you,” he said.

But before Villalobos was even born, Negros Occidental already had a long history of resisting dirty energy. In fact, movements led by women, members of the church, and young people have defeated six coal plant proposals over the last few decades.

The last time a coal power plant was proposed in the province was 2019, where protests co-led by Villalobos eventually pushed the provincial government to declare Negros Occidental “coal-free.”

PROTEST. A youth-led protest pushes the provincial government of Negros Occidental to declare the province ‘coal-free.’ Photo by Rexor Amancio/The Climate Reality Philippines

In many ways, Villalobos’ efforts and the legacy of the climate activists that came before him have paid off. Negros Occidental has now become the renewable energy hope spot of the Philippines.

But the fight is far from over. Even if the province is now producing a lot of renewable energy, it is still mostly consuming fossil fuels. 

The boom in renewables has also sparked a new wave of concerns. Solar energy needs land and minerals, increasing the risks of land conversion and mining. So-called “bad renewables” produced through burning, like biomass, also remain a threat.

Villalobos is trying to find solutions to these issues through his work with NICE, a movement in Bacolod City with more than 150 members. The group has organized several protests and educational campaigns before, but desperate times are calling for creative measures.

EDUCATE. Villalobos speaks to children during an educational event about the environment on September 28, 2025, at the Negros Forest Park in Bacolod City, Negros Occidental. Photo by Aidan Bernales/Rappler

One of their main strategies now is advising the provincial government on its journey toward a just transition, done by drafting policies and developing a roadmap for cleaner energy.

This entails long nights of research, where Villalobos and his team pore over documents and statistics regarding the province’s energy mix and possible solutions.

WORK. Members of NICE conduct a meeting at their hub in Bacolod City. Photo by Aidan Bernales/Rappler

“While we were doing the research, we would find ourselves saying, ‘I wish we could have kept shouting and holding up placards so that we [don’t] have to solve real problems,‘” he joked. “[But] we have to accept that [just transition] is complex and work around it.”

Through his work with NICE, Villalobos wants to change the way we look at energy. He said the future of energy should be three things: distributed, democratized, and decarbonized. The key to that lies in the community. 

In Mindanao, just transition takes its first steps

At 31, Moh’d Al-Khaleel Bogabong wears many hats: an educator, an ambassador, a policy researcher, and soon, a lawyer. 

He is also one of three official members of iJET MagCot, the Maguindanao and Cotabato arm of Reboot Philippines, a youth-led organization advocating for a just transition to renewable energy. 

All these are driven by the same dream he has always had: serve the Bangsamoro people. 

In the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (BARMM), one of the country’s youngest regions, the conversation on energy transition is only beginning to take root. 

Established in 2019 after decades of conflict, BARMM has yet to pass a comprehensive environmental or climate law, since foundational bills on education and revenue have taken priority.

BARMM’s vulnerability is clear: it remains one of the least electrified regions in the country, with over 300,000 households still off the grid as of 2022.

“There’s really a hunger for industrialization,” Bogabong said. Many he has spoken with view extractive industries like mining as “long overdue,” still believing them to be essential to the region’s progress. 

COURAGE FOR CLIMATE. Members of Reboot Philippines gather for a training initiative focused on advancing clean energy literacy and advocacy. Photo from Reboot Philippines

Changing this mindset is an even more complicated task. Bogabong said that it’s difficult to even begin discussing just transition, as there is still a lack of awareness of even the basic climate concepts.

But that doesn’t mean they won’t try.

In 2024, he and his team developed a justice-centered toolkit for students and lawmakers, alongside online campaigns and youth discussions designed to make the concept of just transition more accessible to the Bangsamoro public.

REPRESENTATION. Bogabong is the sole representative from BARMM at the Mindanao Stakeholders’ Consultation for the Philippines’ Just Transition Framework held in Davao City on September 25-26, 2025. Photo from DENR

The good news is that they are moving fast. However, project developers have moved faster.

In early October 2025, the national government approved new oil exploration projects covering the Sulu Sea Basin. 

While officials see it as a step forward in strengthening the region’s energy supply, it also reignited fears about extractive industries encroaching on the lands and waters of the residents in BARMM, especially since the project allegedly pushed through without proper consultation.

The Tawi-Tawi Sanib Pwersa Kabataan Inc. released a statement opposing the move and its lack of coordination with the community, outlining the environmental, social, and cultural risks of these explorations and suggesting instead a pivot to non-extractive exploration efforts.

“The youth here in BARMM are strong,” Bogabong said, estimating around 300 active youth organizations in the region in 2025. “Young advocates connect policy with the lived realities of what’s happening in the region.”

Still, in a place healing from decades of conflict, Bogabong said it can be dangerous to be vocal against these efforts. 

Last October, the Climate Conflict Action condemned the killing of a Teduray leader in Maguindanao del Sur, one of over a hundred deaths of non-Moro indigenous peoples recorded in BARMM. The group, echoing statements from youth circles, described the violence as systemic and rooted in long-standing disputes over land and identity.

”You will run over big people,” Bogabong confessed. 

CLIMATE IMMERSION. Bogabong engages in discussions on renewable energy and just transition with Bulacan residents during Reboot Philippines’ immersion activity. Photo from Reboot Philippines

This is why Bogabong has made the institutionalization of youth participation in BARMM a personal mission, and he wants it done yesterday. 

The bigger fight

Beyond their towns’ borders, these young people hope that their communities will be put at the heart of climate discussions at the national and international levels. To them, laws and global negotiations must translate to lasting change on the ground, where the communities live their day-to-day lives.

PAINT THE TOWN GREEN. Children illustrate their hopes and dreams for the environment during the NICE Kids launch on September 28, 2025, in Bacolod City. Photo by Aidan Bernales/Rappler

“We really have to rethink how and what we mean [by] a just transition,” Villalobos said. “Is it just allowing corporations to change from coal plants to solar, or is it actually ensuring that everyone is taken care of at the height of the climate crisis and as we are transitioning from a dirty economy to a cleaner economy?”

The day before Rappler visited Villalobos and the rest of NICE back in September, flash floods hit Bacolod City, displacing hundreds and even causing a flood wall along a nearby river to collapse.

Once the floodwaters subside, it’s immediately business as usual for the group. The members play all kinds of roles during the NICE Kids launch to keep the program running smoothly — from emceeing to painting decorations. Many of them are students who use their free time from school to volunteer, in whatever way they can, for the cause they believe in: a future free from worsening disasters and pollution caused by dirty energy.

Now, they’re passing it on to even younger generations.

FUTURE GENERATIONS. The young members of NICE welcome even younger members to the cause of climate justice during the launch of NICE Kids on September 28, 2025, at the Negros Forest Park in Bacolod City. Photo by Aidan Bernales/Rappler

The skies are clear as the children step out of the pavilion where they learned about climate change. With their right hands raised and among the trees of Negros Forest Park, they swear, “With these hands, I will plant seeds for a greener future.” – Rappler.com

This story was done in collaboration with the Philippine Movement for Climate Justice and Alliance of Magnanimous Youth Leaders, Inc. Quotes have been translated to English for brevity.