FABRICS FROM BANANA FIBERS

FABRICS FROM BANANA FIBERS

Strictly speaking, the banana plant is not a tree—it is a giant herb. But never mind that. For practical purposes, it could become just as useful as a tree, perhaps even more so, once we begin to fully realize its potential.

Right now, most of us think of bananas only for their fruits, and occasionally for their leaves, which we use to wrap food or as makeshift umbrellas when caught in the rain. Beyond that, the banana plant is often treated as waste once the fruits are harvested. This, to me, is a classic case of linear thinking: grow, harvest, discard. For centuries, we accepted this pattern without question.

Now comes a refreshing idea: turning banana “waste” into banana fiber. An entrepreneur from Taiwan, Nelson Yang, is pushing hard to make banana fiber the island’s next big export. His vision? To transform discarded banana stems into fabric that could rival cotton, hemp, or jute. Imagine that—clothing, bags, upholstery, and even high-end fashion made from what we once considered garbage.

This is the essence of the circular economy: turning waste into wealth. If we had thought of this decades ago, imagine how much value the Philippines could already have created. We are, after all, one of the world’s biggest producers of bananas. In fact, the Philippines is the second-largest exporter of bananas after Ecuador, shipping over $1.5 billion worth annually. Yet most of the stems and sheaths are simply left to rot.

Banana fiber is not entirely new. In India and Japan, banana textiles have been around for centuries. Japan even has a tradition of banana-fiber kimonos. What is new, however, is the push to commercialize banana fiber globally, with modern branding and sustainable fashion narratives. In Switzerland, a company called Bananatex® has already turned Abacá—a banana species native to the Philippines—into durable fabric for backpacks and outerwear.

Here’s where it gets even more interesting: banana fibers come in two types. The outer sheath provides coarse, strong fibers suitable for ropes, mats, or packaging. The inner sheath produces softer, silkier fibers that can be woven into clothing. Combined, they open up endless applications—from eco-friendly bags to breathable tropical wear.

But challenges remain. For one, global fashion companies demand consistent quality, scalability, and softness. Processing banana fibers requires special extraction equipment and trained workers. Moreover, consumers need convincing that “banana fabric” is not only sustainable but also stylish and luxurious.

So where does the Philippines fit into all this? For me, the answer is obvious: everywhere. We already have the raw material in abundance, and unlike Abacá, which requires dedicated plantations, banana fiber can be reclaimed from fruiting plants after harvest. That means farmers don’t need to plant anything new; they just need a system to turn waste into fiber.

This brings me to a practical question: who should lead? Agencies like PHILFIDA (Philippine Fiber Industry Development Authority), DOST (Department of Science and Technology), and PTRI (Philippine Textile Research Institute) could play crucial roles in setting standards, training communities, and developing processing technologies. Farmer cooperatives could manage barangay-level fiber hubs, ensuring that benefits reach smallholders, not just big plantations.

Imagine a model where banana growers in Mindanao or Luzon could sell not just fruits but also fibers, doubling their income. Imagine community-based textile labs producing not just rope and mats, but also fashion textiles infused with indigenous designs. Imagine Filipino designers showcasing banana-fiber clothing at global fashion weeks. This isn’t far-fetched; it is entirely possible if we adopt systems thinking instead of linear thinking.

In truth, we Filipinos already have a proud history with banana fibers, through Abacá. Abacá rope was once so strong it was used for ship rigging and even specialty papers like tea bags and banknotes. But while Abacá is suited for industrial use, banana fiber from edible species can diversify the market by entering the fashion and lifestyle sector. The two are complementary, not competitive.

So I ask again: who will lead us in this opportunity? Who will connect the dots between agriculture, industry, and design? The government has a role, yes, but so does the private sector, academia, and even local artisans. What we need is vision, coordination, and a shift in mindset.

The bottom line is simple: banana plants grow practically everywhere in the Philippines. People will be willing to plant more bananas if there is a market not only for the fruit but also for the fiber. Waste will no longer be waste—it will be raw material. In the language of circular design, this is regeneration. In the language of common sense, this is simply making the most of what we already have.

Maybe, just maybe, the next time someone looks at a banana tree—or should I say, a banana herb—they won’t just see fruit. They’ll see fabric, fashion, and a future where nothing is wasted.

Ramon Ike V. Seneres, www.facebook.com/ike.seneres

iseneres@yahoo.com, senseneres.blogspot.com 

01-19-2026