In the early morning light off the coast of a small island in Tawi-Tawi, men return to shore in narrow wooden boats, bringing with them a day’s worth of harvest from the Celebes Sea. It isn’t fish that fills their boats, but bunches of seaweed—known locally as agal-agal. These are handed off to women like Imilita Mawaldani Hikanti, who skillfully hoist the slippery, heavy bundles up rickety wooden ladders into stilt homes suspended above the sea. There, the seaweed is cleaned, dried, and readied for sale—a vital income stream for families in this remote corner of the Philippines.
To outsiders, seaweed may seem insignificant compared to rice or fish, but to the people of Tawi-Tawi, it is everything. The province, often called the “Seaweed Capital of the Philippines,” produces around 40% of the nation’s 600,000-tonne seaweed output, making it a major contributor to the country’s export of carrageenan—a common gelling agent used in food products worldwide.
For Imilita, seaweed farming is more than just work—it is heritage.
“I learned seaweed farming at a young age. Both my parents and the family of my spouse were skilled seaweed farmers as well. It has always been our primary means of livelihood in this locality,” she shares.
But this tradition is now under threat.
The Tide Turns
Prices for raw dried seaweed have plunged in recent years, dropping as low as PHP 25 per kilo (less than 50 US cents) in 2024 due to fierce global competition. As profits vanish, some farmers are forced to turn to environmentally harmful activities—cutting mangroves for charcoal, spearfishing in overfished waters, or collecting rocks from the seabed to make gravel.
Adding to the economic pressure is ice-ice disease, a bacterial infection exacerbated by rising sea temperatures linked to climate change. The disease causes whitening and breakdown of seaweed tissues, forcing farmers to harvest prematurely or lose their crops entirely.
“Once ice-ice sets in, there’s little we can do,” says Siyulay Juhan, a fellow seaweed farmer. “The harvest is either lost or sold at a lower price.”
A Sea of Possibilities
Seeing the growing challenges, the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations (FAO), in partnership with the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (BARMM), the International Organization for Migration, and the International Trade Centre, launched the FAIR-Value project—short for Farmer-Fisherfolk’s Advancement and Integration to Resilient Value Chains.
Funded by the European Union and implemented in the BARMM region, the project aims to strengthen seaweed value chains by training farmers in climate-smart practices, quality control, and market diversification.
For farmers like Javier A. Abdul, the training was a turning point. “It was a big help. We learned how to keep the product clean, raise prices, and be profitable,” he says.
Participants not only learned how to properly cultivate and handle seaweed but also explored its vast potential beyond carrageenan—from organic fertilizers and bio-stimulants to food products like seaweed snacks and even cosmetics.
Turning Tradition Into Innovation
For Sitti Juhalla M. Hassan, a mother of eight and local entrepreneur, the training opened the door to a new culinary venture—integrating seaweed purée into traditional Filipino snacks like puto and mamon. This innovation helped cut down costs while also creating a unique local product with high market appeal.
“I didn’t know seaweed could be used like this,” she says. “It’s given me new hope for my business.”
FAO is also helping farmers connect with companies seeking seaweed for uses beyond food processing, such as in agriculture or alternative health products. This shift from bulk raw exports to value-added products could provide Tawi-Tawi farmers with more stability and bargaining power in the future.
Empowering the Next Wave
The FAIR-Value project has already trained 100 farmers, with plans to develop local trainers who can extend support and education through future farmer field schools.
“These farmers are not just participants; they’re becoming leaders in their communities,” says Lionel Dabbadie, FAO Representative in the Philippines. “By equipping them with skills and market knowledge, we are helping build a more resilient, sustainable seaweed economy.”
Back in her coastal village, Imilita continues to dry seaweed under the sun, but now with a renewed sense of purpose. Armed with new skills and a better understanding of her product’s value, she is not just preserving a tradition—she is helping transform it into a viable future for generations to come.
Original article: https://www.fao.org/newsroom/story/the-seaweed-capital-of-the-philippines/en