Along Aguinaldo Highway in Silang, Cavite, an unassuming path leads to the quiet of Ilog Maria Honeybee Farm. The crisp air and lush forestry create a picturesque escape from the city. As one steps into their al fresco shop, they are lured by a pleasant aroma toward the center, where products ranging from health to household are displayed.
When founders Joel and Violane Magsaysay stumbled upon this land, the nearby river immediately charmed them; it was then and there that they decided to settle here. During a drought in 1987, it had miraculously rained after Joel’s mother, Lilia, had prayed to the Blessed Virgin Mary. In honor of both the river and Mother Mary, the river was named Ilog Maria. Lia Magsaysay-Sison, daughter of Joel and Violane, narrates the story of how her parents dedicated themselves to beekeeping—ultimately creating an empire of sustainability and a safe haven for native Filipino honeybees.
Love at first bite
Ilog Maria’s famed products were not born from an ingenious business venture, but through the Magsaysays’ necessity for everyday use items such as soaps and shampoo. Lia details the early days of growing up on the farm, “We started with no running water, no electricity. The closest shopping center was [around] two and a half to three hours away.” To sustain themselves, the family first turned to farming, with beekeeping at the heart of their livelihoods.
Soon, they were making more than they needed and started sharing them with family and friends. “Come Christmas and birthdays, we didn’t have anything to give so pinamigay din namin. People started looking for it and it became a business,” she shares. From there, the bee farm organically shifted to full-time selling of their handmade products, which mainly composed of beeswax, honey, propolis, and royal jelly. Their business philosophy remained the same: let the efficacy of their all-natural properties do the talking. Her dad always believed that a good product sells itself; consequently, their business grew mostly through word of mouth.
(We also gifted them.)
As the family cultivated the land to become their sanctuary, it became apparent that they were not the only ones in search of such a place. Amid the greenery of the farm, a row of small, white boxes house the pride and joy of Ilog Maria: tetragonula, a genus of stingless bees native to the area. At first glance, one might mistake this miniature honeybee for a fly—but what the tetragonula bee lacks in size and stinger, it makes up for its ability to endure.
The tetragonula’s resilience is striking among dwindling honeybee populations across the globe. Unlike its European counterparts (Apis mellifera), which have been heavily affected by colony collapse disorder, global warming, insecticides, and electromagnetic radiation, the tetragonula managed to withstand these dangers. Then, in a strange twist of fate, the tetragonula bees arrived at the farm. Lia says, “They were seeking refuge din siguro.”
As the Magsaysays have depended on these bees for years, they are careful not to abuse their talents. While the bees are hardy, they also yield products that are ultimately seasonal. When it rains, the bees have nothing to eat, thus the farm avoids taking from the bees so as to not steal what the bees have stored for themselves. Of course, this has led to some challenges such as rationed supplies, rotational offerings, and capped purchasing limits. Ilog Maria, however, carries on. They are not racing to meet a quota or impress with high sales; they are simply working for themselves and for the bees that call their land home.
A sticky situation
The production of honey is, at its core, a social task. Worker bees retrieve pollen from colorful flowers and deliver it to their nests in droves in order to create the sugary substance. That sense of functionality is also synonymous with the routines of Ilog Maria.
Nature’s offerings to the Magsaysays’ local community have reinforced their commitment to total sustainability. Together with a tightly knit web of beloved staff and workers, the Magsaysays envision creating an eco-park within Ilog Maria’s vicinity in the future. “When that happens, [we can] employ more people and start to integrate and build a larger sense of community,” Lia plans.
Visions of prosperity aside, environmental concerns threaten the longevity of the sanctuary-esque farm. Industrial developments such as nearby factories along the Silang-Santa Rosa River have spoiled the once crystal clear waters near Ilog Maria. “[Nasaan] ‘yung sense ng pagka-community natin? Tulungan niyo na [rin] naman kami. Hindi lang kami ang nakikinabang sa river. Hindi na magamit because it smells so bad and it’s so black, it’s polluted,” a disheartened Lia vents.
(Where’s our sense of community? We need help too because we’re not the only ones benefiting from the river. It’s heavily polluted and smells so bad.)
Coupled with the local government’s inaction, the issue has further withered the chances of the river to recover its previous sanctity. Frustrated with the paucity of proper policy, Lia laments in Filipino that the anti-single-use plastic agenda is performative at best: “There’s nothing happening because there are bigger players involved. They need to think on a larger scale instead of depending on band-aid solutions.”
Beelieving in the all-natural
In this age, it is impossible not to encounter some form of single-use product. The sustainable lifestyle is not something that happens overnight; there must be clear consciousness in consumption and, more importantly, an astute understanding of one’s convictions to make those changes.
In that sense, the Ilog Maria dream is simply to live as authentically as they can. “‘Di naman kami biglang parang nagpapangarap maging L’Occitane or something other than what we are—we have 55 peso soaps,” Lia conveys. With no fuss or frills, the bee farm is still wholly dedicated to serving the original purpose of its creation: a sanctuary to those who seek it out by keeping their prices as low as possible.
(We don’t suddenly dream of becoming L’Occitane.)
“We look at it from a farmer standpoint, not from [a] producer standpoint,” she says proudly. “Money has not been, is not, and will not be our goal. As long as may konting dumadating tapos nakakapag-produce kami, tapos nabubuhay kami, okay na kami doon.”
(As long as a little bit comes and we are able to produce, and we can live off of that, we are okay.)
Lia posits that it is this genuinity to their advocacy that draws people to the farm in the first place—and keeps them coming back. Their success is not built through lavish packaging or bolstering advertising, it has thrived on the bona fide connection their products have made with both the customers and producers.
Armed with humble confidence in the fruits of their beekeeping, the mission of Ilog Maria Honeybee Farm lives on. She attests in Filipino, “As long as your products are pure and the ingredients are truly helpful, you won’t encounter losses and people will return.”
This article was published in The LaSallian‘s January 2025 issue. To read more, visit bit.ly/TLSJanuary2025.
