Aerial inspection made by President Ferdinand Marcos Jr in Bataan, Pampanga, and Bulacan in the aftermath of Typhoon Carina | Photo via Presidential Communications Office
I chose to write this article well before my weekly deadline. My mind is full of thoughts I don’t want to let fade away once the crisis ends. I recall September 25-26, 2009, when Typhoon Ondoy devastated Metro Manila and surrounding provinces, dumping a record amount of rain. Who could have imagined that Typhoon Carina would follow Ondoy’s footsteps and even surpass it in rainfall?
Fifteen years ago, I was younger and more able to participate actively in Gawad Kalinga’s relief operations. What I witnessed was heart-wrenching. It wasn’t just the extent of the damage; it was who was affected and why. Typhoon Carina’s impact was no different—it was the poor who bore the brunt.
As always, there is widespread criticism of government inefficiency and possibly neglect. This pattern remains unchanged from 15 years ago. While there are now more details about the 5,500 flood control projects that were not there in 2009, the response remains similar. Government reactions, including Ferdinand Marcos Jr.’s focus on trash and climate change as primary causes, are superficial. The root causes are deeper and more complex, which is why the flooding in Metro Manila will persist beyond his term.
Trash is merely a consequence, not a root cause. It exacerbates other issues. While the poor communities along riverbanks are often blamed for the trash, we must ask a crucial question: Why are they there?
Riverbanks, canals, seashores, and crevices are unsuitable for habitation, yet millions of Filipinos have settled there. They are only displaced when natural or man-made disasters strike, such as fires in the slums. But they will return, as they have in the past. Some slums in Metro Manila have been there for 50 years or more.
The reason they are there is straightforward: they have nowhere else to go to survive. The next question is: Where did they come from?
Many are survivors of previous calamities in their home provinces, mainly in the Visayas and Bicol, and are frequently hit by typhoons. When storms, earthquakes, landslides, and floods devastate their communities, hunger drives them to seek work in cities and towns. They leave because they have no other option.
Thus, we must address poverty when discussing calamities, climate change, and trash. We need to understand the impact of calamities on the poor and how hunger and despair force them to relocate.
Poverty, like flooding, damages lives and property. We must examine who is affected, why, where, and how to address poverty. Poverty results from more profound issues, leading us to the root cause: corruption.
“Democracy is not a gift but a challenge. It must be earned and requires sacrifice, even the possibility of death. If it prioritizes the common good over elitism, democracy can be a powerful shield against calamities, poverty, and corruption.”
Corruption is an insatiable force that consumes everything if given the chance. Addressing Metro Manila’s flooding also means tackling corruption and poverty, not just adapting to climate change.
Looking at corruption and poverty in the Philippines requires a brief historical perspective. In the past, when our population was small and land abundant, the datu system needed people to make land productive. People had real value, while land was less significant.
Colonial rule, however, introduced a greedy master. Colonizers, driven by the desire for loot and bounty, distributed land grants to favored individuals as rewards or in exchange for tribute. Since it was all agricultural then, tribute from people mostly meant what people could produce. Despite the abundance of land, people were all the more necessary for cultivation and tribute. People retained more value over land.
Modernity shifted these dynamics. Advances in science and technology led to a population boom, particularly in reducing infant mortality. More people served the few elites who maintained their power and wealth. The elite, both historically and currently, have exploited others. This exploitation, deeply rooted in history, continues to shape our society, which is why the term elite still carries a pejorative nuance.
Development has followed a master-slave dynamic, making calamities disproportionately destructive to the poor. The zoning laws and their enforcement are suspect, to say the least. They produce comfort for some, luxury for a few, and almost inhuman conditions for most. The real estate developers do not plan for the poor, but the government must. And it never did with a sense of respect and dignity.
Knowing what we have known for decades from our weather patterns, government, and private developers never established transparent and equitable zoning principles. Naturally, when the ratio between land and people allows density, even traffic flow is choked – all for money.
Despite the Philippines’ democratic ideals, historical and traditional patterns of superiority and entitlement persist. Until democracy evolves beyond these historical inequalities, the divide will remain, with only superficial gestures toward equality. And we can forget solving floods in a metropolis that defies safety and social risks.
Democracy is not a gift but a challenge. It must be earned and requires sacrifice, even the possibility of death. If it prioritizes the common good over elitism, democracy can be a powerful shield against calamities, poverty, and corruption. Intervention in a sick metropolis can correct extreme anomalies and guide future development to be more friendly to the majority.
The power of democracy lies in the hands of the people if they choose to seize it. However, I do not see it coming soon because the people, especially the poor, continue to endure their fate.
