REPURPOSING BRINE FROM DESALINATION PLANTS TO MAKE SALINE WATER FISHPONDS

 REPURPOSING BRINE FROM DESALINATION PLANTS TO MAKE SALINE WATER FISHPONDS

At first, I thought I had stumbled upon an original idea—that the waste brine from desalination plants could be turned into something useful by repurposing it for aquaculture. To my surprise, I later discovered that this idea has already been tested in other countries. Instead of being disappointed, I was delighted. Why? Because it meant it was not only possible, but it had already been proven to work.

But why did I even think of this idea in the first place? The logic is straightforward. Desalination is one answer to the problem of dwindling freshwater supply. But desalination creates its own headache: brine. This highly concentrated salty wastewater is difficult to dispose of without harming the environment. So I thought, why not treat brine as a resource instead of a waste product? Why not use it to create controlled saline water environments where marine life can thrive—even far from the sea?

From Waste to Resource

The key is to mimic seawater conditions: adjusting the salinity, stabilizing the temperature, and neutralizing chemical residues from the desalination process. Once prepared, this “engineered seawater” can support fishponds for species like milkfish, shrimps, crabs, mollusks, or even seaweeds.

There are clear benefits:

1. Solves brine disposal. Instead of dumping brine back into the ocean (which increases coastal salinity and harms ecosystems), it is redirected for productive use.
   
   

2. Higher value aquaculture. Fish and crustaceans raised in saline water can command higher prices in niche markets.
   
   

3. Diversity of options. Saline ponds can host a broader range of marine species, opening new livelihood opportunities.
   
   

Real-World Proof

This is not a fantasy. In Brazil, a decade-long project in Bahia tested inland brine for tilapia farming, Spirulina cultivation, and irrigation of salt-tolerant shrubs (Atriplex) used as goat fodder. The result was a productive cycle: fish for food, Spirulina for supplements, fodder for livestock. It turned waste into wealth, though long-term soil salinization remained a challenge.

In the United Arab Emirates, which produces more than 20% of the world’s desalinated water, researchers are exploring “brine valorization” to grow halophyte crops like quinoa and barley, extract valuable minerals such as magnesium and lithium, and yes—support aquaculture. Their goal is clear: convert brine into a resource to support food security and sustainability.

Even Egypt and the Gulf countries are experimenting with brine reuse, though mostly at research or pilot scale.

Could We Do It Here?

In the Philippines, desalination is still mostly limited to resorts, islands, and some local government projects, but it will inevitably expand as freshwater scarcity worsens. The Philippines has over 7,600 islands, many with poor or seasonal freshwater supply. Desalination could soon be a necessity, not just an option.

This opens the door to innovation:

• Barangay-level aquaculture using modular saline ponds created from brine.
  
  

• Integration with halophytes like salicornia (sea asparagus), which could provide new income streams.
  
  

• University-led pilots. The UP College of Fisheries and Ocean Sciences in Miag-ao, Iloilo, or UP’s Marine Science Institute, could collaborate with BFAR and DOST to pilot small-scale projects.
  
  

Barriers to Overcome

Of course, challenges remain. Chemical residues from desalination pre-treatment must be neutralized. Soil salinization must be prevented with lined ponds and buffer zones. And not all species are equally suited—so research must guide farmers on which aquaculture systems make the most sense.

But the concept is sound: turn a waste problem into a livelihood solution.

Bigger Picture

If we think of desalination brine not as a toxic by-product but as a raw material, we align with the principles of the circular economy. In such a system, waste streams are redesigned as inputs for new processes. Brine could feed aquaculture, aquaculture effluent could irrigate halophytes, and halophytes could support livestock or biofuel production.

So here’s my question: Why wait? If Brazil and the UAE are already doing it, what is stopping us? Why not task BFAR to pilot a brine-to-fishpond project in partnership with LGUs and cooperatives? Why not allocate DOST research funds to this instead of leaving it buried in academic journals?

We could create a Philippine model for “brine farming,” adapted to our milkfish, shrimp, and even seaweed industries.

Because at the end of the day, it’s not just about preventing waste—it’s about seeing opportunities where others see problems.

Yes, desalination solves one problem while creating another. But if we are bold enough, we can turn that second problem into an even bigger solution.

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

iseneres@yahoo.com, senseneres.blogspot.com 

09088877282 01-09-2026

IT FLOODS, BECAUSE IT RAINS

 IT FLOODS, BECAUSE IT RAINS

Many years ago, I interviewed an MMDA official on my radio program. Right there on the air, he told me—without batting an eyelash—that “it floods, because it rains.” At first, I thought I had misheard him. Surely, he must have meant something else. But no—he explained that he really meant what he said.

That moment has stayed with me, not because it was profound, but because it was profoundly wrong. Floods don’t happen simply because it rains. Rain is a natural part of life, a gift of God that nourishes the earth. Floods happen because we fail to manage the water that rain brings. By saying otherwise, the official was, in effect, blaming God for our mismanagement.

Let’s be clear: it is not God who created the conditions for our floods—we did.

How We Made Floods Worse

First, God gave us forests. Trees in the mountains absorb water, slow runoff, and release it gradually into rivers and streams. But what did we do? In just seventy years, we cut down what took God thousands of years to build. Without trees, water rushes down the slopes unchecked, overwhelming lowlands.

Second, God created watersheds—nature’s funnels that channel rainfall into rivers, lakes, or seas in a steady, manageable flow. Watersheds are not just lines on a map; they are living systems that regulate water, sustain biodiversity, and protect communities from floods. Yet we paved them over, built subdivisions on them, or clogged them with garbage. Once watersheds are destroyed, rainwater has nowhere to go but into our homes and streets.

Third, God created clean lands and waterways. We turned them into dumping grounds. Plastics and trash block esteros, rivers, and drainage canals, so that even a modest downpour now causes knee-deep floods. In Metro Manila alone, the MMDA estimates that 600 truckloads of garbage are pulled out of waterways every single day. That’s not rain’s fault—that’s ours.

Finally, God gave us the intelligence to design dams, canals, and levees to control water flow. Yet how many times have we heard of flood control budgets disappearing into the pockets of corrupt officials? We don’t just suffer from natural floods; we suffer from man-made ones, engineered by greed and neglect.

Why Watersheds Matter

A watershed is more than just an area where water collects. It is a living infrastructure for survival. Take the Marikina River Watershed and Laguna de Bay Basin. They are supposed to act as buffers for Metro Manila, regulating rainfall and serving as natural holding ponds. But when forests upstream are cut and garbage downstream piles up, these watersheds fail—and millions of us pay the price.

Healthy watersheds mean less flooding, cleaner water, more fisheries, and greater resilience to climate change. Destroyed watersheds mean more of the same headlines we see every rainy season: stranded commuters, submerged neighborhoods, and schools forced to close.

What Should We Do?

The answers are not new, but they are urgent:

• Bring back the forests in our uplands through massive reforestation.
  
  

• Restore our watersheds by cleaning and protecting them from further encroachment.
  
  

• Clean our lands and waterways by enforcing anti-dumping laws and building a real culture of waste management.
  
  

• Build flood control infrastructure honestly, ensuring budgets go to projects, not to pockets.
  
  

But beyond these technical fixes, there’s a moral one. We must stop selling our votes. Every time we elect corrupt politicians, we empower the very people who sabotage our flood control projects and environmental safeguards.

From Personal to National Transformation

Yes, we can change the world around us, but the transformation begins with us. If each of us decides to stop littering, to support reforestation, to hold officials accountable, and to vote responsibly, the floods will no longer feel inevitable.

So, please tell me again: why does it flood? Not because it rains. It floods because we failed to take care of our forests, our watersheds, our rivers, and our politics.

National transformation must begin with personal transformation. Only then can we stop blaming God for what we, ourselves, have broken.

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

iseneres@yahoo.com, senseneres.blogspot.com 

01-08-2026

TURNING DESERT LANDS INTO FISHPONDS FOR AQUACULTURE

 TURNING DESERT LANDS INTO FISHPONDS FOR AQUACULTURE

Technically speaking, lahar-covered lands in the Philippines are not much different from desert lands. Both are barren, both resist farming, and both are often seen as wasted spaces. But what if, instead of seeing them as wastelands, we viewed them as opportunities?

In China, they have already proven that deserts can be turned into fishponds. In the Taklimakan Desert of Xinjiang, often called the “Sea of Death,” controlled environments have been built where seafood and even pearls are grown in synthetic saltwater systems. If they can do it in one of the harshest landscapes on Earth, why can’t we do the same in our lahar plains in Pampanga, Tarlac, or Zambales?

To be clear, I am not talking about freshwater fish ponds. I am talking about seawater aquaculture—farms for marine fish and shellfish, created inland by mimicking the chemical, biological, and ecological properties of the ocean. The technology is not science fiction. Aquaculture scientists already know how to recreate seawater: start with freshwater, add the right balance of marine salts, and carefully adjust salinity, temperature, and nutrients until the fish “believe” they are swimming in the sea.

In fact, commercial marine salt mixes already exist for aquariums and aquaculture, used worldwide by marine breeders. Add to that an aquamimicry approach—where beneficial bacteria, plankton, and probiotics are cultivated to simulate natural food chains—and you can have a thriving marine ecosystem, even far from the coast.

Why Do This?

The benefits are obvious. First, livelihoods. Fisherfolk and farmers displaced by lahar could be trained and employed in marine aquaculture. Second, food security. Our growing population needs more protein sources, and fish is still the cheapest and healthiest option for many families. Third, land use. Instead of letting lahar lands remain idle, we could convert them into productive aquaculture hubs.

China is already doing this on a massive scale. Their desert aquaculture farms are producing not only fish but also pearls, while their deserts also host solar megaprojects and eco-tourism initiatives. What was once barren is now a driver of local economies.

Can We Do It in the Philippines?

Why not? We have scientists and engineers. The Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources (BFAR) could lead the initiative, supported by the Department of Science and Technology (DOST) for technical research and the Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR) for land-use policies. State universities in Central Luzon could become training centers, while LGUs could provide the land and manpower.

Even TESDA could come in by developing specialized training programs for aquaculture technicians. After all, maintaining synthetic seawater systems requires monitoring salinity, pH, oxygen levels, and biological balance—skills that can be taught.

Challenges to Overcome

Of course, this won’t be simple. Building fishponds in lahar lands would require reliable water sources, energy for pumps and filtration, and constant technical supervision. Costs could be high at the beginning, but if China’s experience is any indication, these investments can pay off in the long term. Moreover, using renewable energy—say, solar farms in lahar areas to power aquaculture systems—could lower operating costs and make the initiative more sustainable.

A Strategic Opportunity

This is where systems thinking comes in. By combining aquaculture, renewable energy, and local livelihood, lahar lands could become self-sustaining eco-industrial zones. Imagine Pampanga not only exporting milkfish, but also producing shrimp, sea bass, or even oysters inland—using technology that turns waste land into wealth land.

The Philippines has always been blessed with coastlines, yet ironically we import some of our seafood because of overfishing and degraded marine habitats. Turning lahar lands into synthetic seawater fishponds would diversify production and lessen the pressure on our seas.

The Big Question

So, why not let us do it? Why not convert lahar-covered areas into marine aquaculture farms that create jobs, strengthen food security, and showcase Filipino ingenuity?

The land is there. The technology exists. The need is urgent. The only missing ingredient is leadership—the political will to launch pilot projects, bring agencies together, and invest in a bold vision.

If deserts in China can produce pearls, surely lahar lands in Pampanga can produce prawns.

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

iseneres@yahoo.com, senseneres.blogspot.com 

01-07-2026

HYBRID COMPUTING FOR LOCAL GOVERNMENT UNITS

 HYBRID COMPUTING FOR LOCAL GOVERNMENT UNITS

Local Government Units (LGUs) today are caught between the devil and the deep blue sea when it comes to their computing infrastructure. On one hand, cloud computing offers the obvious advantages of scalability, remote access, and integration with the latest artificial intelligence (AI) tools. On the other hand, keeping sensitive data on-premises feels safer and more reassuring to many mayors and governors. Understandably so—after all, barangay-level records such as land titles, health files, and burial documents are not the kind of information one would want floating around in cyberspace, vulnerable to leaks or breaches.

But why make it an either/or choice when the best answer is both? Enter hybrid computing—a solution that blends the flexibility of the cloud with the security and control of on-premise systems. In my experience managing databases, this hybrid approach works, and it works well.

What Hybrid Computing Means for LGUs

In practice, hybrid computing means LGUs can store sensitive records locally while offloading analytics, big data crunching, and AI processing to the cloud. For example:

• Resident profiles and permits could be maintained securely on local servers.
  
  

• Flood risk predictions or traffic flow analysis could be powered by cloud-based AI, with the results sent back to LGUs in real-time.
  
  

• Healthcare diagnostics (like lung sound analysis or mobile x-ray readings) could be processed locally, then synced with cloud databases for broader epidemiological monitoring.
  
  

This dual system is especially important in the Philippines, where internet connectivity can be patchy. With hybrid computing, barangays can keep operating offline when the internet is down, and then sync with the cloud once the connection returns.

Practical Applications in the Local Setting

Think of the opportunities:

• Barangay Information Systems – A hybrid system can streamline issuance of clearances and permits while still keeping personal data secured.
  
  

• Disaster Response – Edge devices can track relief goods and evacuation numbers locally, while cloud dashboards allow national agencies to coordinate support.
  
  

• Traffic & Mobility – Sensors deployed in cities can record local traffic, with cloud analytics providing optimization strategies.
  
  

• Digital Governance – Citizens could request documents or track services through hybrid portals that combine local verification with cloud-based platforms.
  
  

The result? Faster service delivery, less paperwork, and greater transparency.

The AI Imperative

Here’s the bottom line: whether they like it or not, LGUs will have to embrace AI to meet the demands of governance in the 21st century. The population is growing, urban challenges are multiplying, and disasters are becoming more frequent. Without AI-driven insights, LGUs will always be reactive rather than proactive. Hybrid computing provides the perfect entry point because it allows cautious adoption—leaders don’t have to let go of their control over data, but they can still benefit from cloud-based intelligence.

Who Should Lead the Way?

This raises the question of leadership. Should the DILG mandate hybrid adoption for LGUs? Should the DICT provide the infrastructure and technical backbone? Should the DOST handle research and pilot projects, while TESDA trains local IT staff to manage hybrid systems? In reality, it will require all of them working together. Just as housing projects require DENR, DHSUD, and LGUs to coordinate, digital governance needs multi-agency synergy.

Steps Forward

I would suggest starting with pilot barangays. Train “tech stewards” who can manage both the local servers and cloud sync. Encourage universities and youth hackathons to co-develop hybrid solutions tailored to local problems—say, AI for traffic congestion in Quezon City, or predictive analytics for flooding in Pampanga. And most importantly, ensure interoperability with national databases like PhilSys, DOH, and DILG so that local data feeds seamlessly into the bigger picture.

The Bigger Picture

Hybrid computing isn’t just a technical fix; it’s a governance innovation. It offers data sovereignty without technological isolation. It keeps communities empowered while opening the door to national integration. And it provides a way for local governments to modernize responsibly, without gambling away security.

In the end, LGUs must ask themselves: Do we want to remain paper-heavy, reactive bureaucracies, or do we want to leap into a future where data drives better services? The hybrid path allows us to do both—to keep one foot on solid ground, and the other stepping confidently into the cloud.

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

iseneres@yahoo.com, senseneres.blogspot.com 

01-06-2026

BUILDING BRICKS FROM USED PLASTIC BOTTLES

 BUILDING BRICKS FROM USED PLASTIC BOTTLES

This is common sense that belongs in my list of no-brainers. On one hand, we are drowning in plastic waste. Used bottles pile up in landfills, clog esteros, and float in our seas. On the other hand, we face a massive housing backlog that worsens every year. If two major problems are staring us in the face, why not let one solve the other? Why not turn plastic waste into building bricks for social housing, schools, and health clinics?

The technology already exists. Brazil, for instance, has been experimenting with 3D printing machines that transform discarded PET bottles into durable building blocks. These aren’t just crude makeshift bricks — they are precision-made interlocking panels that can be snapped together like Lego. The process is simple but transformative: collect used bottles, shred them, melt them, and feed the material into modified 3D printers that extrude thick, solid layers. The result is a brick that is strong, water-resistant, and insulating. Best of all, this method doesn’t need cement, which means less carbon emissions and much lower costs.

Imagine the possibilities if we do the same in the Philippines. Housing agencies estimate that our backlog in socialized housing has reached millions of units. Meanwhile, the Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR) says we generate about 2.7 million metric tons of plastic waste annually, with at least 20% ending up in the ocean. That’s an environmental crisis begging for a solution. Turning bottles into bricks is both literal and symbolic: we could transform pollution into protection, and trash into shelter.

The question is: who should take the lead? Logically, DENR could step in, since this is a solid waste management issue. But the Department of Human Settlements and Urban Development (DHSUD) should also have a stake, because the end goal is housing. The Department of the Interior and Local Government (DILG) and the LGUs could help by providing land. The Department of Science and Technology (DOST) could provide the machines and technical know-how, while TESDA could train local workers to operate the equipment and assemble the homes. Clearly, this is a case where inter-agency cooperation is not just desirable — it is necessary.

The beauty of this technology is that it also creates livelihoods. Waste pickers could earn by supplying the raw materials. Communities could run cooperative fabrication hubs where plastic waste streams are turned into bricks. TESDA graduates could gain employment in brickmaking and house construction. What used to be a throwaway bottle could become a paycheck, a wall, or a roof.

If Brazil can build schools and clinics with recycled plastic, why can’t we? In disaster-prone areas, these quick-to-assemble plastic houses could serve as emergency shelters. In informal settlements, they could be used to provide safer and more durable housing. Even barangay-level projects could adopt them, reducing both plastic waste and housing shortages at the grassroots. Of course, challenges exist. We need to ensure these bricks meet structural standards for safety. We also need investment to procure machines and establish fabrication sites. But these are not insurmountable barriers. What we lack is not the technology, but the political will and coordinated action.

This is where circular economy thinking comes in. Instead of burying waste in dumpsites, we cycle it back into productive use. Instead of importing expensive construction materials, we turn local trash into affordable infrastructure. Instead of treating plastic as a curse, we redefine it as a resource.

If we can build dignity out of discarded bottles, why wouldn’t we? The Philippines has long struggled with twin crises of waste and housing. Here is a rare chance to solve two problems with one strike. The only question left is whether our leaders will seize it — or whether we will continue to drown in bottles while families remain homeless. The bricks are waiting. The bottles are piling up. The need is urgent. The only thing missing is action.

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

iseneres@yahoo.com, senseneres.blogspot.com 

01-05-2026

SEVEN COUNTRIES ARE USING MOSTLY RENEWABLE ENERGY

SEVEN COUNTRIES ARE USING MOSTLY RENEWABLE ENERGY

If seven other countries can do it, why can’t we? If no country in Southeast Asia has done it yet, why can’t the Philippines be the first?

It sounds like a wild idea, an impossible dream, but it’s not. As of today, seven countries—Albania, Bhutan, Nepal, Paraguay, Iceland, Ethiopia, and the Democratic Republic of Congo—are already generating nearly all of their electricity from renewable sources like hydro, geothermal, solar, and wind. If they can do it, then it could get as real for us as it gets.

In fact, we are already on that path. We have hydropower plants in many of our rivers. We are the second-largest producer of geothermal energy in the world, after the United States. Solar and wind are slowly but surely entering the mainstream. So why aren’t we moving faster?

To begin with, we need to set clear and ambitious targets. Better still, we should declare a firm target year for achieving total energy independence—100% renewable. Without a date, targets are just wish lists. With a date, it becomes a commitment.

But assuming we do set such a target, the next logical question is: where are we now? And how far are we from that goal? Are we measuring only electricity, or also fuel and gas? This is especially relevant now that the world is shifting towards electric vehicles (EVs). EVs could reduce our reliance on imported fuel, but at the same time, they will demand much more electricity. Will our grid be ready for that?

This transition could be both an opportunity and a problem. An opportunity, because we can cut oil imports drastically. A problem, if we fail to ramp up renewable electricity production fast enough.

Is anyone coordinating this effort? Are the hydro experts talking to the geothermal experts? Are the solar developers in touch with the wind sector? We need orchestration, not silos. Without a clear master plan, each source develops on its own, without complementing the others.

From which renewable source should we expect the bulk of our energy? Hydro has potential, but it depends on rainfall. Geothermal is stable, but it requires expensive drilling. Solar is abundant but intermittent. Wind can work in certain corridors like Ilocos and Guimaras. Shouldn’t we map out the best mix, and then align financing, laws, and incentives to make it happen?

If we know the obstacles, we can find the solutions. Are the problems legal—perhaps outdated laws and red tape? Are they financial—too costly for private investors without government guarantees? Or are they political—too many vested interests in coal and oil? Transparency here is key.

Among the seven renewable leaders, some are already net exporters of electricity. Paraguay, for example, sells power to Brazil. Bhutan exports to India. Ethiopia is aiming to supply neighboring countries. Could we possibly do the same in ASEAN one day?

Here’s another practical question: is anyone seriously studying the costs and benefits of shifting households from LPG gas ranges to electric stoves and induction cookers? If electric cooking is cheaper and cleaner, why are we still hooked on imported LPG?

My suggestion is to empower the electric cooperatives. Right now, most of them are only distributors of electricity. Why not allow and support them to also become producers? They can build community solar farms, small hydro projects, or even invest in wind turbines. This would decentralize power generation and bring ownership closer to the people.

We must remember that renewable energy is not only about the environment. It is also about sovereignty, jobs, and resilience. Every kilowatt of renewable power we generate is a peso saved from importing fuel. Every renewable plant built here means jobs for Filipinos. And every solar panel or wind turbine is a shield against the volatility of global oil prices.

So, again, if Albania, Bhutan, Nepal, Paraguay, Iceland, Ethiopia, and Congo can do it, why can’t we? The Philippines is blessed with sunshine, rivers, geothermal heat, and coastal winds. Nature has already given us everything we need. All we have to do is organize ourselves, set clear goals, and summon the political will to act.

The question is not whether we can do it. The question is: when will we start taking it seriously?

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

iseneres@yahoo.com, senseneres.blogspot.com 

01-04-2026