Photo courtesy: Philippine Army
The 6.9-magnitude earthquake that devastated northeastern Cebu, with Bogo City as its epicenter, left unimaginable destruction—homes reduced to rubble, livelihoods crushed, and lives tragically lost. The ground may have stopped shaking, but the pain and despair of the victims remain. And yet, what compounds their suffering is not just the disaster itself, but the shameless neglect and hypocrisy of those who claim to lead us.
Instead of urgency, the victims were met with bureaucracy. Instead of swift aid, they got red tape and hollow speeches. In the critical hours when compassion should have been instinctive, government’s response was sluggish, disorganized, and burdened with delay. This is not mere incompetence—it is indifference disguised as governance.
Adding insult to injury, Malacañang trumpeted a ₱180-million “donation” from the President as if it were an act of benevolence. But Filipinos know better. We have not forgotten the billions lost to corruption—funds siphoned through overpriced infrastructure projects, ghost programs, and pork-barrel style allocations benefiting only the powerful and their cronies. Against this backdrop, ₱180 million is no more than a pitiful smokescreen, a public relations gimmick meant to mask a record of betrayal.
Worse still, this tragedy is being politicized. Instead of unity, we see pretentious displays of “care” carefully staged for cameras—grandstanding visits, photo ops with survivors, and partisan rhetoric designed to divide rather than to heal. Relief goods are branded with political names, and aid distribution is filtered through the lens of loyalty. Disaster survivors are treated not as citizens in need, but as pawns in a dirty game of optics and partisanship.
The earthquake may have toppled structures, but it also tore down the thin facade of this government’s so-called compassion. What was revealed is a leadership more concerned with image than impact, more invested in political mileage than in human survival.
Let it be said: disaster relief is not a favor from the President, nor is it a gift from political allies. It is the people’s right, paid for by the people’s taxes. To package it as charity while billions have been pocketed in corruption is the highest form of mockery.
Cebu has been shaken. But the greater tremor is the people’s outrage—against a government that cloaks politics as compassion, that sells charity as generosity, and that treats tragedy as theater. Unless accountability is exacted, the real aftershock will not come from the earth, but from a betrayed nation finally saying: ENOUGH!
