As the Bangsamoro Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao (BARMM) prepares to transition to a fully elected parliamentary government in October 2025, the redistricting of its 32 parliamentary seats has emerged as both a necessary step and a deeply contested process. While the region’s five provincial governors have made a rare and powerful show of unity in calling for equitable and inclusive redistricting, the situation on the ground—particularly in Lanao del Sur—reveals serious cracks in the process.
The voices from the island and mainland provinces were clear during the final public hearing of the Bangsamoro Parliament’s Committees on Local Government (CLG) and on Amendments, Revision, and Codification of Laws (CARCL): the redistricting must uphold fairness, legal soundness, and regional cohesion. Yet despite this consensus at the top, the experience of Kapai—a small but historically significant municipality in Lanao del Sur—paints a troubling picture of how such ideals are being tested in practice.
Under the Government of the Day’s Parliament Bill No. 351, Kapai is silently shifted from the 2nd District to the 3rd District of Lanao del Sur. This move, which residents say happened without consultation, contradicts the historical, cultural, and geographic realities of the Lake Lanao corridor. According to BTA Act No. 58 and multiple national laws and Supreme Court precedents, Kapai belongs with Tagoloan II, Marantao, Saguiaran, and Piagapo—all municipalities that share a contiguous landmass, cultural ties, and historical unity.
But now, not only is Kapai being detached from this cluster, it is being placed in a district with which it has no direct road link or historical affiliation. For a region that prides itself on being shaped by its people’s struggle for identity and self-determination, such redistricting decisions reek of political gerrymandering rather than democratic representation.
More importantly, this realignment may violate constitutional principles. Article VI, Section 5(3) of the Philippine Constitution requires legislative districts to be “contiguous, compact, and adjacent.” Placing Kapai into a district that already surpasses the minimum 100,000 population threshold—bloating it to nearly 140,000—ignores the spirit of balanced representation and raises questions about the intent behind the move.
Critics such as political analyst Atty. James Latiph have decried the redistricting as a direct assault on the municipality’s identity. His argument is grounded not only in legal frameworks but also in lived histories and the organic ties that bind communities like Kapai and Tagoloan II. Their shared history and lineage—as reaffirmed by Presidential Decree 1548 and reiterated in Republic Acts 11602 and 11798—cannot be dismissed by mere lines on a political map.
It is also telling that the residents of Kapai—led by traditional and elected leaders—had to travel to Cotabato City just to make their voices heard. Their plea is simple: respect history, respect the law, and preserve the unity of Lake Lanao’s municipalities. But the bigger question now looms: will the Bangsamoro Parliament truly listen?
Chief Minister Abdulraof Macacua has called on lawmakers to rise above personal interests and commit to a “One Bangsamoro” principle. Yet the situation in Kapai challenges this very call. If inclusivity and legal soundness are indeed priorities, then why is a community of over 20,000 being excluded from its rightful place without consent or clear justification?
The issue is no longer about numbers alone—it’s about the soul of democratic governance in the Bangsamoro. The region’s success depends not just on the number of districts drawn but on whether its people see themselves in the lines etched across the map.
The Bangsamoro Parliament must act swiftly and justly. The committee-approved version of Bill 351 should be revisited, if not outright rejected, in its current form. The Parliament must remember: redistricting is not just a technical or political exercise—it is a moral test of whether representation truly serves the people, or merely those who draw the boundaries.
If Kapai’s history is erased today, whose voice will be silenced tomorrow?