By Alyssa Marie Magdales
Greenpeace Philippines - Cebu volunteer, and participant in the Global Alliance for Incinerator Alternatives (GAIA) Asia Pacific Media Clinic,
“Telling Climate Truths: Strengthening Zero Waste Journalism and Climate Information Integrity in Asia Pacific”
On Jan. 8, 2026, a mountain of garbage in Barangay Binaliw, Cebu City, collapsed—burying homes and claiming 36 lives. In the aftermath, the disaster was framed as a failure of waste management, but that explanation is incomplete. What happened in Binaliw is not just about where we put our trash. It is about a system that produces far more waste than it can safely handle—and one that is quietly fueling the climate crisis.
Cebu City generates tons of waste daily, much of it made up of single-use plastics: sachets, multilayer packaging, and disposable containers. These materials are designed for convenience but built for disposal. They cannot be effectively recycled, yet they continue to flood the market.
This is not accidental. It reflects an economic model that prioritizes cheap production and rapid consumption over sustainability. Plastics are made from fossil fuels—oil and natural gas. Across their lifecycle, they generate greenhouse gas emissions. When burned, whether in open dumps or waste-to-energy (WTE) facilities, they release carbon dioxide and other climate-warming gases. Plastic pollution, therefore, is not just a waste issue. It is a climate issue.
At the same time, another major source of emissions is often overlooked: organic waste. When food scraps and biodegradable materials are buried in landfills, they decompose without oxygen and produce methane—a greenhouse gas far more potent than carbon dioxide in the short term.
Landfills are not just storage sites. They are active sources of climate pollution. This is why proper waste segregation is critical. Organic waste must be separated and composted. Without this, cities effectively turn their dumps into methane factories.
Recent developments in Cebu City reinforce this point. On May 6, 2026, Mayor Nestor Archival signed Executive Order 073 declaring a State of Solid Waste Management Emergency. Rather than treating waste as a purely disposal problem, the emergency measures legally mandated household segregation and reactivated grassroots materials recovery facilities in pilot barangays. The move underscores a central reality: meaningful waste solutions begin at source, not at the smokestack.
Yet the political momentum following Binaliw has increasingly focused on high-tech disposal schemes. On May 1, 2026, the Department of Environment and Natural Resources-Environmental Management Bureau 7 partially lifted its closure order against Prime Integrated Waste Solutions Inc., allowing limited test operations in a newly built interim cell at the Binaliw landfill. The decision surprised members of the Cebu City Council and triggered strong opposition from nearby communities. Less than four months after a catastrophic collapse that claimed dozens of lives, mechanisms were already moving to restore operations despite unresolved public concerns. For many residents, this raises questions about transparency, accountability, and the shrinking space for affected communities to shape decisions that directly impact their safety.
In response to the Binaliw disaster, government officials have again promoted WTE incineration as a solution, citing examples from countries such as Japan and China. But burning waste does not make it disappear. It converts it into toxic emissions and hazardous ash. Even with modern controls, incinerators release pollutants such as dioxins and fine particulate matter, which are linked to serious health risks.
WTE also contributes to climate change. Burning plastics releases significant amounts of carbon dioxide. And because these facilities require a constant stream of waste to remain viable, they create incentives to keep producing it. Rather than solving the problem, WtE risks locking cities into it.
If Cebu was the warning, Davao was the echo. On May 20, 2026, a near-identical disaster struck the New Carmen Sanitary Landfill in Davao City. Following continuous heavy rains, a massive garbage mound collapsed, burying nearby residential structures, killing at least one person, and leaving others missing. From Visayas to Mindanao, the literal foundations of urban consumption are giving way. Reports that regulators had previously flagged concerns involving landfill conditions highlight a recurring national pattern: warning signs often exist long before tragedy occurs, yet meaningful intervention arrives only after lives have already been lost.
The political response to these twin disasters is striking in its similarity. Instead of triggering a national reckoning on product design, plastic reduction, and corporate accountability, both crises have been used to accelerate discussions around incineration infrastructure. Just as Cebuano officials have pointed toward WTE facilities as a pathway to resilience, Davao officials have faced criticism from environmental groups for doubling down on their own controversial WTE proposals following landfill disruptions. In both cases, a highly polluting and carbon-intensive technology is being marketed as a modern solution while upstream reforms receive far less attention.
The tragedy in Binaliw is not due to a lack of solutions. The Philippines already has a framework in Republic Act 9003, which mandates waste reduction, segregation, and recycling. The problem is that these upstream measures have not been fully implemented. Instead, the system has relied on downstream fixes—landfills and now incineration—approaches that are reaching their limits.
Yet alternatives already exist. Community-based initiatives are showing what effective waste management can look like. Groups such as Pagtambayayong promote waste segregation, composting, and localized systems that prevent organic waste from reaching landfills. These efforts may seem small, but they address the problem at its source. They reduce waste, cut methane emissions, and build community accountability. They also highlight a deeper issue: environmental justice.
For years, Binaliw residents have borne the burden of Cebu’s waste—living beside it, breathing its fumes, and facing its risks. When the landfill collapsed, they paid the highest price for a system they did not create. As new solutions are proposed, there is a danger that this pattern will continue.
The Binaliw disaster should not justify another round of large-scale, high-risk projects that shift the burden from one community to another. It should be a turning point. Real solutions lie upstream: reducing plastic production, enforcing segregation at source, composting organic waste, investing in reuse and refill systems, and strengthening community-based recovery programs.
These are not quick fixes, but they address the root of the problem. The lessons from both Cebu and Davao are clear. When governments ignore source reduction and rely on disposal-centered strategies, communities eventually pay the price. If underlying systems remain unchanged, the conditions that led to Binaliw—and were echoed in Davao—will persist. And the next disaster will not be a question of if, but when.
