A smile on the survivors’
faces
Up to now, many survivors cannot categorically say if one of
those thousands of body bags transported to mass graves at Barangay Basper and
Suhi contained a missed family member. The time for positive identification
based on intact physical appearance has been lost.
On many instances, the underlying factor why the Yolanda
tragedy became more tragic was not being able to deal with the critical situation
in real time.
Stores may not have been looted if panicky residents were
not sent into frenzy by the thought that they may have survived the wind’s fury
and the water’s surge, but not hunger. It was the moment right after the calamity
when the need for relief was critical and it did not come.
Time is of the essence. True then in the immediate aftermath
of the supertyphoon, true still in the rehabilitation effort of the areas torn by
it, time would have made the difference.
Two and a half months after Yolanda, help in recovery and
rebuilding must already be up and running or it may be too late again.
The scourge of Yolanda continues. Its victims still reel under
the agony and hardships brought by it. The unending queues on stores in the city’s
center, pharmacies, banks, wet markets, make one wonders: Is this yet what it
is to live in the 21st century, to be so downed and made helpless by
a calamity?
On a long file at the BPI automated teller machine, someone
remarked, “Waray pa gud katatapos it at sakripisyo kan Yolanda.” (Our sacrifice
from Yolanda has not ended.)
Sacrifice is one aspect, fear is another.
The threat of foodless days nags. Warmer and unlit homes and
nothing to do because there is no electricity fuel uncertainty. Realizing with alarm
that this could go on for months and years makes one go bonkers. The scenario of
having no food and electricity is panicky.
Hostile weather aggravates the already harsh cold and heat.
Still in a state of trauma from the Yolanda rampage, folks instantly become jittery
over news of another low-pressure-area with the potential to evolve into a
monster, like the ferocious visitor on November 8.
Agony, uncertainty, trauma and nervousness mix up into a volatile
state of affairs.
Along the Eastern Visayas Region’s Pacific Coast and Leyte
Gulf area, are numerous villages flattened by Yolanda. Many of them are now sprawls
of tent and makeshift-shelter communities, propped by aid. There, most folks have
been reduced to reliance on lifelines from outside.
They urgently need to rise from the ruin and rubble as much
as they needed to survive Yolanda.
The maligned bunkhouses are only tiny island specks in this
vast sea of dehumanized refugee humanity. If folks can be too hot on those
controversial structures, this one is really much too hot.
Those suffering may no longer take the time, as in the days following
Yolanda, to paint on pavements the words, PLEASE HELP US. Their plight has been
made known throughout the world. They have undergone how it is to beg and join
the long queue under rain and sun for five kilos of rice, canned sardines and
noodles.
To survive on donations, to rise on somebody else’s helping
hand, to be plucked out of one’s proud being by the posturing of aid as if this
was all that mattered in the situation, are no small concessions to given
assistance.
Government and the international community have announced billions
of dollars for recovery and rebuilding. The earmarking by the administration of
P360.9 billion for Recovery Assistance on Yolanda (RAY) has gotten into headline
and primetime news.
But folks in the flattened communities are not jumping with
joy. Why?
No victim of Yolanda has said help is not needed. But the
help that is needed is the real thing, not the news. It is what goes to improve
the situation on the ground, not what hogs the headlines.
Until now, nothing of that has come, or shows to be coming.
The people cannot even finish counting in their lifetimes
the huge assistance promised. But humbly small or boastfully big, they really don’t
mind. They just ask: When and How?
Any definite answer to that would already put a smile on the survivors' faces.