Is it truly Christmas if joy is a privilege and survival is the only gift some can afford?
As Christmas carols fill the air and colorful decorations light up every corner of the Philippines, thousands of Filipinos find themselves in evacuation centers, grappling with the harsh reality that dampens the season's spirit. These symbols of joy and hope remain heartbreakingly distant as the victims of recent calamities are shrouded in uncertainty. This stark contrast encapsulates a grim truth: the supposed merriment of the season is a privilege not afforded to all.
This year has been particularly unforgiving. Six consecutive typhoons in just one month—the likes of which haven’t been seen since 1951—left over 66,000 homes damaged. Entire families now huddle in evacuation centers, enduring cramped conditions and insufficient resources. Meanwhile, communities near Kanlaon Volcano remain on high alert as the looming threat of another eruption traps evacuees in limbo. For many, this grim reality will persist through Christmas, a time usually reserved for joyous gatherings and the exchange of gifts.
For the evacuees, Christmas is not about gifts or feasts but survival. In Kanlaon, Arturo Rendon’s despair reverberates through his plea: "Paano na ang kabuhayan namin?” His words reflect the collective agony of families who have lost not only their homes but also their livelihoods to relentless calamities. With the volcano still on alert level 3, and typhoons leaving trails of destruction, these Filipinos are left to grapple with the prospect of spending Christmas in crowded shelters.
Nature cannot bear sole responsibility for this tragedy; this is a damning indictment of a system ill-equipped to shield its citizens. While government officials reassure the public of disaster preparedness, the reality speaks otherwise. The calamity fund, nearly depleted, mirrors the insufficiency of resources to combat the worsening impacts of climate change.
Department of Budget and Management (DBM) Secretary Amenah Pangandaman admitted that disaster response funds are almost exhausted, with only ₱30 billion left in Quick Response Funds—hardly sufficient to address the enormity of destruction wrought by typhoons, floods, and volcanic activity, a figure alarmingly inadequate to address the scale of devastation we face annually. Moreover, the Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD) reports that allocations for critical disaster relief efforts have already run dry.
Canned goods are a cruel insult to an already devastating reality. For families who have lost everything, how can a tin of sardines suffice when Christmas is meant to be a time of abundance and togetherness? For evacuees huddled in overcrowded shelters, these rations are woefully inadequate to sustain even basic survival, let alone offer a semblance of dignity during the holiday season. It is not enough to hand out food packs and call it relief. Cramped evacuation centers and dwindling supplies mean evacuees are left to scrape by on barely enough, even as the season demands more.
Christmas is a time for dignity, for celebration, for fullness—not for families rationing scraps while bureaucrats offer empty reassurances. Children dream of festive meals, yet all they are served is monotony on a plate. This is not survival—it is neglect masquerading as aid. The lack of sustainable solutions underscores the systemic flaws in disaster preparedness and response. This just shows how the situation for those in evacuation centers grows more dire by the day.
Surviving the volcanic eruptions and typhoons, the victims face more than the immediate wrath of nature; they are also enduring the long-term socio-economic fallout. The Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA) recently reported a rise in unemployment to 3.9% in October, driven by disruptions in agriculture, fishing, and retail—sectors heavily impacted by the storms. For thousands of families, the loss of income has compounded the trauma of losing their homes, leaving them trapped in a cycle of poverty and displacement.
Moreover, the slight uptick in inflation to 2.3% in October, driven by rising food prices, has further strained relief efforts. Relief organizations like the Tanging Yaman Foundation struggle to source adequate supplies as the cost of basic goods surges during the Christmas season. This creates a heartbreaking irony: while some Filipinos splurge on festive feasts, others scrape by on dwindling rations, their voices drowned out by the din of holiday cheer.
And what of the President’s appeal to remember these victims during the holiday season? While his words “We all deserve Christmas” may resonate with a sense of unity, they ring hollow without tangible action. Compassion, while commendable, cannot rebuild homes or fill empty stomachs. It cannot restore the livelihoods that storms and eruptions have washed away.
The government must prioritize proactive disaster management. This means expanding the calamity and Quick Response Funds to ensure immediate aid without red tape. Invest in disaster-resilient infrastructure—flood control, sustainable farming, and safe housing—to shield communities from climate change. Relief should go beyond canned goods; partner with local farmers to provide evacuees with nutritious meals. Empower local governments with resources before calamities strike to strengthen preparedness and reduce dependence on national agencies. Swift action and foresight can save lives— because anything less is unacceptable.
But let us not ignore the role of the Filipino people in this collective challenge. As individuals, we must advocate for accountability, demand better governance, and actively participate in community resilience initiatives. From grassroots reforestation efforts to localized disaster preparedness drills, collective action can strengthen the foundations of a society that refuses to yield to calamity.
As we celebrate the season of giving, and while many of us bask in the glow of holiday lights and feast on Noche Buena, let us spare more than just a thought for those spending the season in evacuation centers. This is not just their burden to bear—it is a collective failure of a society that has not done enough to protect its most vulnerable.
Their stories should move us to demand better from our leaders and ourselves. Compassion must not end at token donations or brief moments of sympathy. It must push us toward collective action, ensuring that no Filipino is left to face the disaster’s aftermath alone.
Victims of Kanlaon Volcano, the typhoons, and countless other calamities are not just statistics in a government report. They are mothers wondering how to feed their children, farmers questioning the future of their fields, and children asking why Santa seems to have forgotten them.
Arturo Rendon, his fellow evacuees, and every Filipino displaced by calamities this year deserve more than a Christmas of loss. They deserve hope, dignity, and a future worth rebuilding. Because if we cannot offer them a place to call home, at least let us give them hope. Let us ensure that no Filipino ever has to spend another Christmas mourning what could have been instead of celebrating what can be.
Article: Ariane Claire S. Galpao
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