Why Joey Lozano Is A Marked Man - investigative reporter works for the environment

By mid-afternoon, we descend through a thick emerald embrace of secondary growth to the valley floor and the inviting river, running fast and clear out of the hills. It doesn't take us long to find a set of logs tied together. After fording the river in waist-deep water, we come upon more evidence: a stash of logs wedged under some vegetation along the riverbank. Only one man, a local paid by the culprits to watch over their cache, remains. We have missed the poachers by minutes.

Lozano is clearly disappointed. "I was really hoping to grab one of these guys and find out who he sells the logs to. I need to know where they end up." As one of the few investigative reporters left in the Philippines who covers environmental issues, Lozano needs this kind of information to flesh out his story, to bring it to closure. "Most of the loggers are poor guys, usually displaced farmers forced off their land, who are just trying to make some money," he says. "The real culprits are the timber merchants, operating behind the scenes, who encourage and bankroll this illegal activity."

Still, not all is lost. As Boy Anoy and Gumanta push the logs into the current, Lozano wades out into the middle of the river and videotapes the moment. The footage will be used to produce a documentary detailing how the logs move from the hills to the coast and then on to lumber companies in Zamboanga City. "I will fit the pieces of this puzzle together sooner or later," he says matter-of- factly. "The trick is to follow the money trail but remain invisible."

The dangers to inquisitive reporters are obvious, and Lozano has had several close calls. But the one he will never forget is the assassination attempt in June 1987 that nearly succeeded. "I was living in the town of Banga in South Cotabato at the time and had just finished exposing, with an ABC 20/20 production crew, the Stone Age Tasadays hoax," Lozano explains. "This was a major fraud, involving local Manobo and T'boli tribespeople masquerading as a stone-age culture."

As it turned out, the entire scam was the invention of a local mayor, Mai Tuan, who was also in charge of a massive mining concession on tribal land. And he was in league with a powerful political figure, Manuel "Manda" Elizalde, a former presidential assistant for national minorities under Ferdinand Marcos. When threats failed to frighten Lozano off and bribery failed to buy him off, a hit man--probably ordered by Tuan, Lozano says--tried to kill him. "One night as I was riding my motorcycle home, another motorcycle came charging up from behind," he recalls. "I still don't know why, but I suddenly veered off to the side. It was just at that moment that I heard the gunshot. The bullet passed so close to my head that I felt its hot breath on my cheek."

Lozano eventually went public with the episode and then moved away to another part of Mindanao. "For some time after this attempt on my life," he says, "I would write an article, then go into hiding."

"The real culprits are the timber merchants, operating behind the scenes, who encourage and bankroll this illegal activity."