When the Rain Comes, Let It Find Us Ready

TYPHOON TINO DID not knock.
No polite warning, no gentle drizzle.
November 2, 2025, it entered our waters — and by the dark hours of November 4, it slammed into Southern Leyte, then tore through Cebu, Negros, Dinagat, and the rest of the Visayas.
Homes disappeared. Roads became rivers.
Thousands displaced. Many never came home.

And yet, here is the wound we keep reopening:

We are a nation that can afford a concert.

We know how to rent LED walls the size of buildings, fly in performers, blast fireworks that could light whole sitios for a week.
We pour millions into festivals — Sinulog, Dinagyang, barrio fiesta kahit saan — and we clap proudly as confetti rains and the mayor smiles for the drone shot.

But when Tino came, how many towns had a single working rescue boat?
How many barangays had first aid kits that weren’t expired?
How many families had to rely on a neighbor’s banca because the LGU could not provide one?

And then we hear it — like salt on open wounds —
that billions were poured into flood control projects in Cebu alone.
Some of them, we are told, were ghost projects.
Imaginary.
Paper bridges over real drowning.

Tell me — how do you comfort a mother whose child was taken by the current when the funds meant to protect that river were stolen into wallpaper contracts and cement that washes away in the first hard rain?

This is not an attack on culture.
Art matters. Festivals matter. Joy matters.
But preparedness matters more.
And the truth is: we can afford both — if no one is stealing.

So to every official, organizer, sponsor — and yes, to every voter who cheers from the stands:

Accountability is not drama.
It is duty.

The mayor who buys pump boats and trains rescue teams
should be applauded louder
than the mayor who hires a celebrity singer for the grand finale.

And to us — the people who clap, vote, and move on —
we are not just victims of the flood;
we are victims of the priorities we tolerate.

Tino will fade from the news.
But the grief it left will not.

So when the next storm forms — and it will —
let it find us not just praying,
but prepared.

Not just loud in celebration,
but loud in demanding answers.

When the rain comes next time —
let it find us ready.
Not waiting for rescue that will never arrive,
but living in a country that decided
its people are worth saving.