Yennah Torres and her quest for peace in Mindanao

The Philippine island of Mindanao is a place where beauty and violence exist side by side. Known for its verdant hills and rich cultural traditions, Mindanao has also been the site of a protracted conflict that has spanned generations. Christians, Muslims, and Indigenous peoples have lived in an uneasy coexistence, their interactions shaped by suspicion and entrenched prejudice. Yet, in this landscape of division, Yennah Torres has become a beacon of hope, someone who has not only defied the boundaries of her upbringing but now works to dismantle the very barriers that have held her island captive for decades.

Torres, 54, was born in northern Mindanao to a Christian migrant family. Her parents, like many who had relocated from central parts of the Philippines, transferred their own fear and stereotypes onto her, which shaped her childhood. “They told me to stay away from Muslims because they thought they were dangerous,” Torres recalls, her voice steady but tinged with the weight of those early lessons. She and her seven siblings internalized these beliefs, part of a larger narrative that had, over the years, hardened the divisions between communities on the island.

A land divided

Mindanao is a region steeped in tension. Christians and Muslims view one another through the lens of history, often seeing the other as a threat. The Indigenous populations, meanwhile, have long been marginalized, regarded as less than by both sides. The narratives that sustain these prejudices are reinforced daily by politics and media—Muslims painted as terrorists, Christians as interlopers, and Indigenous peoples as backward or insignificant.

Torres speaks candidly about the role of the media in this polarization. "When the news only shows you Muslims as terrorists, how can you expect people to see them any differently?" she asks, frustration barely concealed. This was the world she grew up in, and it wasn't until she left for university that the walls of prejudice began to crumble. “I met Muslims for the first time at school,” she says. “And I realized—they were just like everyone else.”

The university was a revelation: a place where young minds from different backgrounds mingled, argued, and learned from one another. For Torres, it was also the beginning of her commitment to social justice. She became involved in activism, her once narrow view of Mindanao’s divisions giving way to a broader understanding of the country’s deeply entrenched inequalities.

Finding a path to peace

In 1998, Torres joined TRIPOD, a fledgling organization focused on emergency relief. But as the conflicts on Mindanao persisted, TRIPOD’s mission evolved, expanding into peacebuilding and conflict prevention. Today, Torres serves as a program coordinator, responsible for orchestrating the many initiatives that seek to bring Mindanao’s fractured communities together.

“We’re not just here to help displaced communities,” Torres explains, “we want to address the root causes of the conflict.” Under her leadership, TRIPOD, with support from Mensen met een Missie, has worked to promote dialogue and understanding among the island’s divided groups. The work is not glamorous, nor is it without risk—extremist groups still operate on the island, and political instability remains a constant threat. But Torres remains undeterred, driven by a deep belief in the power of conversation.

The power of conversation

For Torres, dialogue is not just a tool—it’s the foundation of any lasting peace. TRIPOD’s primary focus is on creating spaces for these difficult conversations to take place. “We bring people together for workshops, for dialogues in villages, for trainings. We give them the space to talk, to share, to listen.” In these sessions, participants—who may have spent their entire lives mistrusting one another—learn about each other’s cultures and beliefs.

One such participant was Nelson Danda, a Christian migrant. Initially, he was hesitant to join a "Culture of Peace" workshop, a three-day intensive dialogue session that encourages open discussion between people from different religious backgrounds. “At first, I was skeptical, even scared,” he admits. “But as the workshop went on, I felt more at ease. We learned about each other’s backgrounds, but we also learned how to communicate without judging.”

For Danda, the change was profound. “Before the workshop, I thought the Indigenous people were worthless,” he says, the memory clearly discomforting. “But thanks to Yennah, I came to see them as kind, respectful people. My view of them has completely changed.”

The long road to change

The impact of Torres’s work can be seen in the stories of transformation that come out of these workshops. Nelsa Cornelio, a member of Mindanao’s Indigenous community, recalls the profound effect the dialogues had on her life. “I was always shy and had no confidence,” she says, her voice growing stronger as she recounts the shift. “But in the workshops, I learned about my rights and became proud of my heritage. I learned to raise my voice, to stand up for the rights of my people.”

For Torres, these individual stories represent the real, tangible outcomes of her work. “When I hear people say they’ve started to see each other as human beings, not enemies, that’s when I know we’re making a difference.”

A future in the balance

Despite these successes, Torres is clear-eyed about the challenges that remain. “We’ve achieved a lot,” she says, “but it’s still a challenge to make our work sustainable.” The conflicts on Mindanao are constantly evolving, and new tensions arise even as old wounds are being healed. But for Torres, the key to enduring peace lies in the continued willingness of people to come together, to talk, and to seek common ground.

“Real change starts in the communities,” she says, echoing the philosophy of Mensen met een Missie. “When you bring people together and show them that they have more in common than they have differences, that’s when lasting change can happen.”

The work of TRIPOD, much like that of Torres herself, proves that even in the most divided societies, peace is possible. One step at a time, the people of Mindanao are moving closer to a future where division gives way to understanding, and conflict is replaced by unity. Torres dreams of the day when her children—and the generations that follow—will grow up in a world where everyone is treated equally, regardless of their religion or ethnic background.

“It’s my dream,” she says quietly, “that one day, the people of Mindanao will live together in harmony.”