IN BARANGAY Sabang on Olango Island in Lapu-Lapu City, mornings begin not with traffic or office buzz, but with the soft clatter of seashells poured onto wooden tables.
For 50-year-old Analy Bacante, the rhythm of shells being drilled, roasted and polished has been her soundtrack of nearly three decades. A second-generation artisan, she learned the craft from her parents, who once made simple placemats from shells gathered by local fisherfolk. Today, she transforms those same sea treasures into chandeliers and necklaces that travel from Cebu to as far as the United States and China.
But behind the delicate glow of a shell chandelier is a laborious three-day process — and a livelihood increasingly squeezed by rising costs of raw materials and shrinking margins.
Three days for a single glow
Each shell that arrives at Bacante’s modest home workshop undergoes careful preparation. The pre-production process demands immense time, patience and precision from the moment freshly gathered shells arrive at her workshop.
Women from the neighborhood work from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., manually drilling holes into freshly delivered shells before roasting them — “sangag” in Cebuano — for about 30 minutes until they turn a warm brown color.
The next step once took an entire day of backbreaking labor. Bacante used to shake shells inside a net strainer by hand to clean and polish them. In 2025, a small motorized tumbler changed that. Now, shells spin inside a makeshift barrel with sulfuric acid for about an hour, emerging shinier and ready for sun-drying.
“It’s a big help,” Bacante said in an interview with SunStar Cebu, noting how the machine improved both efficiency and quality.
After drying under the island sun for a full day, the shells are finally ready to be assembled. From collection to production-ready material, the preparation alone takes three days.
Despite this painstaking work, the finished chandeliers sell for only P150 to P1,200. A 32-centimeter colored design fetches P150; a 48-centimeter brown piece sells for P200; and an 88-centimeter chandelier — which can take days to assemble — may reach P1,200.
Retail prices in souvenir shops are higher, but the artisans receive only a fraction of that markup.
Costs double, capital tight
The challenges intensified after the Covid-19 pandemic and typhoon Odette (Rai). Operations halted during lockdowns, and finished products were damaged when the typhoon struck.
Material costs have since doubled — from P70 to P80 per kilo to P160. The price of stringing materials rose from P32 to P70.
“Dako na kaayo ang puhunan (The capital involved is already very big),” Bacante said. Capital requirements now reach at least P100,000 to fulfill bulk orders — a figure far beyond what many artisans can readily afford.
Before the pandemic, buyers often paid in advance. That practice stopped, leaving artisans to shoulder production costs upfront. While orders still come in from Punta Engaño, Mactan, Talisay City and export markets, many must be declined due to limited capital.
The City Government of Lapu-Lapu previously provided P50,000 per barangay to help revive the industry during the administration of then mayor Junard “Ahong” Chan, but Bacante said additional support is needed to sustain the trade.
She is part of the Ako-Babae Federation, a women’s association organized through the City Social Welfare and Development Office, covering 11 barangays across Olango Island.
“As production slowed, fewer orders came in,” said Bacante in Cebuano. “Problema pud mi kay dako na kaayo ang puhunan, kinahanglan gyud mi og dako na kantidad kay ang materyales grabe kasaka (We’re also facing a problem because the investment is already very large. We really need a bigger amount now because the cost of materials has increased drastically).”
Tied to the tides
Shell supply follows the sea’s rhythm. Sungasig and aninikad are sourced locally, while nasa and sigay arrive from Bohol, Masbate, Zamboanga and Bantayan. Supply peaks from February to July, depending on sea conditions. Production months are strongest from May to October, with orders slowing as December approaches.
On good days, the group can produce up to 200 pieces daily. Monthly earnings average over P10,000 — modest but vital income that pays for food, electricity and school fees.
One of Bacante’s children has already graduated; another is in third-year college. She credits shellcraft for helping her reach those milestones.
A fragile inheritance
The business began with her parents and expanded in 2000 after her marriage, when she ventured into higher-value products like chandeliers. Yet she is uncertain whether her children will continue the craft because the work is demanding. The margins are also thin. Another factor is climate change, which threatens shell supply. Disasters, too, can wipe out inventory overnight. Still, Bacante believes the craft will endure — if capital flows and markets remain open.
In Olango, where livelihoods rise and fall with the tide, shellcraft is more than a souvenir industry. It is women’s work, family sustenance and cultural inheritance shaped by patience and salt air.
As long as shells continue to wash ashore — and hands remain willing to thread them into light — the glow from Sabang’s chandeliers will carry stories far beyond the island’s shores.
On Olango Island, where livelihoods are closely tied to the sea, the resilience and skill of artisans like Bacante continue to keep a generations-old craft alive despite the challenges of rising costs, natural disasters and an uncertain future.