Dynamic Duo

Joseph and Cita Herbon Champion Pineapple Farmers

We had a lot of produce, but our income still got reduced because we had to rent a tricycle or a multicab to transport them to other towns, sometimes, nearly all our earnings would go to that.”

IN a secluded river barangay deep in Can-avid, Eastern Samar, where the water flows as silently as the lives it carries, lives a couple whose story is as golden as the fruits they nurture. Cita and Joseph Herbon, simple farmers by title but partners in every sense of the word, have quietly built a life from the soil, the river and for each other.

Their barangay, reachable only after an hour-and-a-half boat ride through winding waters, recently became one of the destinations of the provincial government’s “SeRVisyo Caravan” led by Gov. Ralph Vincent “RV” Evardone.

Among the many logistical challenges of reaching such a place was finding someone familiar and strong enough to navigate the river route. The solution was already waiting on the banks: Cita and Joseph were among several boat owners and farmers, who guided the caravan team safely to the river barangay (villages).

Joseph manned the controls at the back, steering with calm control. Cita, at the front, stood watch like a sentinel. With practiced hand signals, a raised palm here, a finger pointed to the right there, she communicated with her husband in complete silence. Each signal told him where to steer, when to slow down, or when to veer away from hidden stones beneath the shallow parts of the river.

No words were exchanged, but none were needed. The rhythm between them was steady, born from years of rowing rivers and navigating life together.

That boat, now vital to transporting government teams, was not bought easily. It was the fruit of their labor, paid for through income from their pineapple farm. What began as a few rows of pineapples planted by hand slowly grew into a livelihood that could afford them the vessel — not just for their own use, but now as a fixed-rate rental boat hired by the provincial government in its noble mission.

“Tikang gud la it ha pinya. Lugi kasi kami ngin ma-renta la hin bangka ha iba (It all started with pineapples. We used to have extra expenses because we had to rent a boat from others before),” Cita shared.

The SeRVisyo Caravan, Cita said, was a huge help not only to them but to their entire barangay. For communities as remote as theirs, where health care, social services and livelihood programs are rarely accessible, the visit brought much-needed services closer to home.

Cita also shared that they recently received fertilizer and some farming tools through the help of the Department of Agriculture. In 2024, they were recognized as the “Champion Pineapple Farmer of Can-avid,” an annual award given by the Office of the Municipal Agriculturist.

After the day’s activities, they welcomed some of the media team into their home. They served fresh pineapple and shared how they tend to their farm with no help but each other.

According to Cita, farming has become their daily rhythm, a form of exercise and survival. They wake up before sunrise, check their crops, clear weeds and carry loads by hand. Every row planted, every fruit harvested, is a product of their shared discipline and devotion.

Aside from pineapples, they also grow vegetables and other fruits which they sell in nearby towns. But while the farm yields plenty, selling the produce remains a constant challenge.

“Damo an bunga, pero naiibanan la gihap an income kay nagrerenta man kami hin traysikol o chariot para masudoy nam ha iba nga bungto basi maubos (We had a lot of produce, but our income still got reduced because we had to rent a tricycle or a multicab to transport them to other towns, sometimes, nearly all our earnings would go to that),” Cita explained. Most of what they earn goes straight to transportation, renting a tricycle just to sell their harvest before the pineapples ripen.

Cita and Joseph Herbon steer their boat along the river in Can-avid, Eastern Samar. Usually used to transport their pineapple harvest, the couple were tapped to ferry government workers during the provincial government’s SeRVisyo Caravan outreach to their remote barangay.

The couple, however, seeks support — either in the form of a motorcycle or transport vehicle — to help them market their produce or livelihood training on how to make use of their overripe pineapples, which often just go to waste.

Still, there is no bitterness. Only quiet determination. They row through both literal rivers and the figurative ones — carrying weight, navigating shallows and making sure they don’t hit the rocks.

In their story, nothing is grand. No headlines. No spotlight. Just two people who know how to read the river. Who knows when to row harder and when to stay still. Who understands the land, the tides and each other — standing as a reminder that in the most overlooked corners of Eastern Samar, love, labor and life flow steadily, and that sometimes, the strongest partnerships are forged not in comfort, but in the current.

But the couple’s story isn’t just about receiving help, it is about making help possible. The SeRVisyo Caravan didn’t just bring doctors and social workers to their barangay; it opened doors for locals like them to earn, contribute and take part in something bigger. For Cita and Joseph, the program wasn’t merely aid — it was empowerment. It didn’t just give them fish; it taught them how to row.

Cita and Joseph Herbon have quietly built a life from the soil, the river and for each other. CONTRIBUTED PHOTOS

In remote missions like the SeRVisyo Caravan, boat owners like Joseph and Cita play a vital role. They are the first to arrive and the last to leave, transporting people, supplies and hope across long rivers and quiet waters. Their boat and teamwork formed part of the quiet machinery that brought government services where they were needed most. In doing so, the caravan did not only deliver help, it made locals part of the solution, enabling them not just to fish, but to row, to plant and to grow.

Their work ensures that government services reach even the most isolated communities. Without their steady hands and deep knowledge of the river, many of these efforts would not be possible. Their contribution may be quiet, but it is essential, carrying the weight of service one trip at a time. PIA

Key takeaways

– Partnership and quiet resilience: Cita and Joseph’s relationship is a powerful example of silent, effective partnership. Their ability to navigate the river with nonverbal cues highlights a deep, shared understanding and mutual reliance, forged through years of facing challenges together.

– From livelihood to empowerment: The couple’s hard work in pineapple farming not only provided a livelihood that allowed them to purchase a boat but also turned them into key enablers for their community. Their boat, a product of their labor, became an essential tool for the provincial government’s outreach, allowing them to earn an income and actively participate in bringing services to their barangay.

– The critical role of local knowledge: The Herbons’ deep familiarity with their local river was indispensable for the success of the government’s “SeRVisyo Caravan.” This underscores the vital importance of local expertise and community members in making large-scale aid and service delivery efforts possible in remote areas.

– Challenges of remote farming: Despite their success in farming (being named “Champion Pineapple Farmer of Can-avid”), the Herbons face significant logistical and financial challenges. A large portion of their income is lost to transportation costs for selling their produce and overripe pineapples often go to waste.

– Empowerment over aid: The “SeRVisyo Caravan” didn’t just provide services; it created an opportunity for the Herbons to be part of the solution. This transforms them from passive recipients of aid into active contributors, demonstrating that a crucial part of assistance is providing opportunities for locals to earn and serve their community.

– Quiet contributions are essential: The story highlights that nation-building is not just about grand headlines or political gestures; it is built on the quiet, essential contributions of people like the Herbons, whose steady hands, hard work and deep knowledge are the “quiet machinery” that makes progress possible in the most overlooked corners of the country.