issue among couples, she responded by saying that “they always fight because of poverty and there is no privacy to get intimate. Changing wears are also a challenge. I have to cover a blanket before I could change my clothes.” In response, fellow IDPs try to mitigate and pacify the situation. However, according to camp managers and leaders, when the conflict is irreconcilable, IDPs would usually relay the matter to the DSWD or the nearby Police precinct. These kinds of reproductive labor are usually invisible in early humanitarian response. In disaster, economic labor (an assumed responsibility of/for men or fathers) is usually disrupted – especially in the early stage of disaster. However, for women or mothers, reproductive labor or necessary labor – the taking care of the children, cooking, cleaning the house, etc. – never ceases. It is significant to place this binary in perspective with regards to the situation in ECs. Therefore, it is not only important to have an active safe space for women at the on-set of disaster; but also, it is imperative to provide women’s rights training, educational discussion, and workshops that are specific to the psychological, reproductive, and societal challenges of these women, so as to create a more transformative and sustainable humanitarian response. L IVING AT THE I NTERSECTIONS Building from the analysis from above, we then focus at the collective stories of those who have intersecting identities. It aims to highlight the invisible and visible forces that impacts the lives of internally displaced women and LGBTIs. This forces can exacerbate situation, worries and anxieties of some internally displace women and gender non-binary people; at the same time gives privilege to others. Just like the stories of Tarhata, Fatima, and Michael below, their stories are distinct because their lives embodies the intersections of various identities of internally displaced women and LGBTIs. In other words, the aim is not to show that one group is more victimized or privileged than another, but to reveal meaningful distinctions and similarities in order to overcome discriminations and put the conditions in place for all people to fully enjoy their human rights. Below are the interviews and conversation with the IDPs: Tarhata is 25 years old, married and with five (5) young children. Her eldest is five years old and her youngest is but a little more than one month old. Tarhata is a housewife, and her husband works in a construction as a painter. During the interview, Tarhata introduced her new born, a boy she jokingly nicknamed as Martial Law, referring to the President’s immediate declaration of Martial Law. Tarhata explained that she gave birth on the 23rd of May, around six in the evening – more than four hours since the firefight started in Marawi. She also shared her views on martial law saying “Natakot ako nang marining ko na mag Martial Law si Duterte, kasi narinig ko na sa nanay ko. Yung kwento nya po agad-agad daw pong dudukutin ang mga kababaihan, yung mga pinag iinteresan daw po ng mga sundalo, yung mga babaing magaganda tapos yung mga lalaki bubugbugin daw nila. Kaya natakot talaga ako. Sabi ko sana di maulit yung kay Marcos.” (I felt afraid when I heard the president declared martial law because of the stories I heard from my mother. She said, women – beautiful women – were abducted by soldiers, and men were beaten up. I really felt afraid, and I hoped that this Martial Law will not be like Marcos’ Martial Law). She shared that when the firefight started, her husband rushed home and ordered her to pack as they are going to flee. Tarhata narrated how she responded, “sabi nya, takbo na tayo, sabi ko, paano ako aalis eh kung masakit na ang tagiliran ko at parang manganganak na ako.” (He said, let’s run and leave. I answered, how can I leave if my lower back is aching already, and I feel like I’m ready to give birth). A traditional birth attendant stayed with Tarhata while she was in labor, and whenever they hear gun shots, the attendant would duck and they would pray that the ISIS would not head their way. After giving birth, Tarhata and her husband decided to evacuate. Her husband carried one of the younger children in a sling, while holding another child. Tarhata, wearing her bloodied malong (a traditional 25