It will be a year tomorrow since we experienced the wrath of Typhoon Frank, international code name Fengshen, which bore down on us with unexpected full strength, having caught us unaware that it changed course and intensified overnight from Signal No. 1 to the maximum, Signal No. 3.
We suffered a direct hit. Thousands of families were instantly rendered homeless.
In the wake of the storm came mud floods. Cars were floating around like oceangoing vessels. People’s homes were emptied of its unprotected contents by the flood, with furniture and appliances floating like so many flotsam and jetsam. People were on rooftops, or being carried away by floodwaters as they were perched on the roof of their houses. For the very first time, floodwaters reached the height of Kalibo Bridge.
Devastation was the order of the day. Thousands died in its aftermath.
We were forced down on our knees not just in supplication but also in abject surrender to the horrible, wretched experience.
Emotionally drained, physically exhausted and financially crippled, the double whammy of the storm and flood sunk us in catatonia.
Indeed, June 21, 2008 will be remembered in infamy through the centuries with stories that leave a bad taste in the mouth. Bad memories made worse by the apathy displayed by people who were supposed to come to our rescue and protect us from further harm.
Personally, I never saw an elected government official or the head of any agency of government, check on the condition of people in the area where I lived. For one whole damned week. Even an elected official who lived just a couple of houses away did not show signs of being at least a concerned neighbor.
Prices went through the roof as sellers took advantage of the situation. While businesspeople were literally making a killing, the local leadership of the Department of Trade and Industry failed to make their presence felt while in the interim, people were forced to pay through their teeth for items supposedly under price control. It took the DTI a couple of days to surface even if the floodwaters were gone on the 22nd.
Political stalwarts came to visit and lo and behold, local officials were very visible, unable to resist the photo ops, which worked both ways. Media was finally aware of the situation, thanks to bloggers who helped spread awareness. If not for their efforts, people would not have known what actually transpired.
Tuesday, the 24th of June was the Feast of Saint John the Baptist, Kalibo’s Patron Saint. In the early morning, church bells pealed and fireworks were launched but no one was in a celebratory mood. It was Kalibo’s saddest Town Fiesta ever.
Thankfully, a huge contingent from the Metropolitan Manila Development Authority arrived to help clean up and rehabilitate Aklan. Lo and behold, a day prior to the President’s arrival, NFA vehicles with “Rice for Sale” signs suddenly became very visible, with someone’s mighty magic wand orchestrating the show. But for whose benefit, really? As soon as the President left, the NFA vehicles were also gone.
The thing that really angered people was relief materials that were turned over and “overturned”. And that is putting it mildly. Not surprisingly, a slew of Non-Government Organizations came in and personally handled the distribution of their aid to make sure that people who needed it got it. And that is a fact!
These people have such an unsavory reputation that will stick to them like glue because the experience has been seared in our memories. For them I personally feel revulsion, loathing, repugnance, outrage, detestation, abhorrence, hatred … and spite.
It has been a year. However, what has our government done to help prevent what happened form happening again? To this day, whenever it rains for at least an hour, some of Kalibo’s major thoroughfares would be flooded already.
ConAss is apparently more important. Oh well, let me reiterate: for them I feel revulsion, loathing, repugnance, outrage, detestation, abhorrence, hatred … and spite.
Soon it will be May Day Eve.
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