Much like the intricate patterns of Yakan cloth, a textile from the Yakan tribe of Sacol Island in Zamboanga City, stories of women are woven beautifully which show their vibrance, resilience, and strength. The 7 colors that the tribe uses in their patterns extracted from leaves and flowers represent each of the days of the week and tell stories that the mainland people may draw inspiration from.

And in the life of Julaida T. Wilman, 56, a proud Yakan woman, those colors speak of hardship, resilience, and transformation.

Growing up, Julaida never really realized what she was missing in life and that there are far more beautiful and convenient ways to live our lives. She comes from a poor family and so, all her life, she thought that there is nothing more for her but poverty.

This pain was even more painful than it already is when her husband, Tating, passed away in 2007. She was left alone to raise their five children. The burden was heavy, and the path certainly misty. With no steady source of income, she relied on selling pastil, ice candy, ukoy, saging, and whatever else she could prepare with very limited resources. Every ₱100 capital brought only ₱30 in return to which she uses for her children’s daily allowance.

“Pag nagkakasakit sila, kung saan-saan ako naghihiram [ng pera]. Yung kinakain namin, yung isang meal minsan yun pa din sa susunod. Yung takot ko ay baka hindi rin sila makapagtapos,” she recalled.

Days were full of uncertainty and nights were filled with worry. Her daily struggle is how to make sure that her children’s stomachs do not growl from being empty.

But beyond economic hardship, another weight burdened her inner peace, especially that she, too, experieced this as a child. As a member of the Yakan tribe, Julaida and her family often found themselves looked down upon by others who failed to understand the richness of their identity. Some dismissed their culture, saying the Yakan were only known for their textile.

“Hindi naa-appreciate ang kultura at tradisyon namin,” Julaida shared quietly.

Yet, like the bold geometric patterns of Yakan weaving, her identity refused to fade.

In 2011, a new color entered her life that sparked a glimps of hope. Julaida became a beneficiary of the Pantawid Pamilyang Pilipino Program (4Ps). For the first time in years, she felt that she had someone to lean on especially in times of need. She saw changes in her children and in herself.

Surely, the program did more than just provide financial aid for her family, for her children’s health and education. She noticed that it also gave her space to grow and to lead. Among her fellow beneficiaries, Julaida found a sense of fulfillment and purpose. She was elected as a Parent Leader by her peers.

“Malaki yung naging tiwala sa akin ng mga kasama ko kahit babae ako, siguro dahil aktibo rin kasi ako,” she said.

And just like that, her transformation began from a struggling mother into a community leader.

In 2016, her story took another remarkable turn. Julaida was chosen as their tribe’s Indigenous Peoples Mandatory Representative (IPMR) by the Indigenous Political Structure (IPS).

“Hindi ako nagdedesissyon mag-isa. Lagi ako magconsult sa mga kapwa ko IP. Kung may problema ang isang IP, puntahan ko talaga sa bahay,” she shared.

She took her role very seriously. She became a bridge between her people and opportunities, advocating for their rights, promoting awareness, and ensuring their voices, IP members, were heard.

And still, the patterns of her story continued to unfold.

In 2024, inspired by her journey and the trust placed in her by her neighbors, Julaida returned to school through the Alternative Learning System (ALS). She completed her junior high school level after a long while of missing school, something that she never thought would be possible to happen in her life.

“Naengganyo ako na pwede din pala ako makapagtapos. Mas lalo akong pinagkatiwalaan ng tribo namin,” she said, her voice filled with quiet pride.

As an IPMR of their tribe, she helped organize a Sustainable Livelihood Program Association that secured ₱200,000 in funding for a rice retail business. She also proposed an agar-agar livelihood project supported by the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples (NCIP), creating more opportunities for her fellow Yakan.

Each initiative added new patterns to the fabric of their shared future.

By 2025, Julaida’s family had successfully exited the 4Ps program, albeit due to natural attrition for having no eligible children. But for her, the journey did not end there. Instead, she became a living testament to what is possible even for IP communities like theirs.

In an interview with Julaida, she shared how she saw not only changes in her own life, but in the lives of others around her, especially in their island.

“Lalong sumipag ang mga anak ko na mag-aral,” she shared. “Sa community, nakita ko din na yung mga bata, malinis na sa pananamit, naka-uniform… Nagsusuot na ang mga bata ng sapatos kahit nasa island.”

She smiled as she recalled the small but meaningful details.

“Dati kasi sa amin… ang sabon na pang-damit, yon na rin ang pang ligo at panglaba. Ngayon, mabango na ang mga bata.”

To other 4Ps beneficiaries, Julaida offers a message grounded in both experience and hope.

“Sanayin niyo ang mga anak niyo. Hindi habangbuhay, ganito lang at nandito lang sa island.”

Like a Yakan cloth, her story is not defined by a single color. It is a burst of colors and patterns that reflect not just mere hues but stories of their lives, culture, and traditions.

And in every thread, Julaida Wilman proves that even the most overlooked patterns can become the most powerful stories, if only we learn to see their beauty.