PROMOTING MALIPUTO AS A HIGH VALUE FISH

PROMOTING MALIPUTO AS A HIGH VALUE FISH

To put matters in the right perspective, the Giant Trevally is not endemic to the Philippines. It thrives in marine environments across the Indo-Pacific. But when Taal Volcano erupted in 1754 and sealed off Lake Taal from the sea, some of these trevallies were trapped in freshwater. Over time, they adapted, evolved, and became what we now call Maliputo.

The same thing happened with sardines, which evolved into the freshwater Tawilis. I am playing safe by calling Maliputo a “new variety,” but I have reason to believe that it could already be considered a new species. If only the government could validate this scientifically, we could make an official claim before the right international bodies.

And if we could do that, we could even declare Maliputo as our true national fish. Why not? Bangus, as beloved as it is, is not endemic to the Philippines—it is found across Asia. By contrast, Maliputo is ours and ours alone. It is a living legacy of the unique geological history of Taal Lake.

Because of this, I am calling on government agencies, particularly the Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources (BFAR), to pursue an internationally recognized Geographical Indication (GI) status for Maliputo. Imagine: only the Philippines could use the name Maliputo for this freshwater giant trevally, the way only France can use Champagne and only Mexico can use Tequila. That is not just a matter of pride—it is a matter of economics.

But for this to happen, we must protect the integrity of Maliputo. The export of its fingerlings must be banned to ensure exclusivity. At the same time, invasive species like tilapia must be gradually removed from Lake Taal. I say gradually, because I understand the livelihood of many families depends on tilapia farming.

Tilapia, after all, competes with Maliputo for food and even eats its eggs. If left unchecked, it will always threaten the survival of Maliputo. But we cannot simply wipe out tilapia cages overnight. That would be irresponsible. Instead, a transition program should be in place: the government could support farmers by providing them with Maliputo fingerlings, enabling them to shift production over time without losing their source of income.

Even if this transition takes years, it is worth pursuing. The same farmers who are now raising tilapia could become Maliputo farmers. And here is the good news: they could earn more. Maliputo sells at premium prices because of its rarity and reputation. While tilapia fills mass-market needs, Maliputo could anchor a high-value aquaculture industry, combining cultural pride with economic opportunity.

But here’s the crucial question: is Maliputo truly a freshwater fish? Technically, it is euryhaline—it can thrive in both fresh and brackish water. In Lake Taal, it migrates through the Pansipit River, living in freshwater before returning to spawn. That means its story is even more unique than we imagine.

Are there enough fingerlings to support large-scale farming? Not yet. But progress has been made. The National Fisheries Research and Development Institute (NFRDI) has already distributed thousands of fingerlings in Batangas, with survival rates reaching more than 80%. Breeding programs are ongoing, and though not yet at national scale, the foundation has been laid.

Is Maliputo a better alternative to tilapia? That depends on what we mean by “better.” Tilapia grows faster and costs less to feed, making it ideal for mass production. But Maliputo offers something tilapia never could: exclusivity, cultural prestige, and premium pricing. It is not a commodity fish—it is a heritage fish.

The comparison with bangus is equally telling. Bangus will remain central to Philippine aquaculture—it feeds millions and sustains entire industries. But bangus is not unique to us. Maliputo is. In fact, Maliputo might be the perfect candidate for what I have always advocated: data-driven, value-adding governance. With the right scientific validation, policy support, and transition programs, we can elevate Maliputo from a local delicacy to an international symbol of Filipino identity.

Ultimately, promoting Maliputo is not just about farming fish. It is about telling a story—a story of resilience, adaptation, and national pride. It is about using science, policy, and governance to protect what is ours and to turn it into a sustainable source of livelihood.

So, I ask: do we have the political will to make Maliputo our own Champagne, our own Tequila? Do we have the foresight to balance conservation with livelihood, tradition with innovation?

For me, the answer should be yes. Because Maliputo will not promote itself—it is up to us to act, before it disappears from both our lakes and our memory.

Ramon Ike V. Seneres, www.facebook.com/ike.seneres
iseneres@yahoo.com, 09088877282, senseneres.blogspot.com

11-23-2025