Storms, Shakes, and Second Chances: Rethinking Preparedness in the Philippines

In just one day, thousands of Filipinos can experience a haunting disaster, their world completely turned upside down. 

This is perhaps the most painful truth about living in one of the most disaster-prone countries: Despite frequently facing numerous typhoons, earthquakes, landslides, and volcanic activities, countless homes remain unprepared, and many lives are lost. 

Such tragedy is what Super Typhoon Yolanda brought to the homes of families in Eastern Visayas. With winds as strong as 315 kilometers per hour and storm surges almost reaching the heights of two-storey buildings, it became a haunting reminder that our country was never prepared for such a catastrophe. A reminder that the Philippines is stuck in a cycle where we struggle to face nature’s disasters, and we keep rebuilding—because the same thing happens again somewhere else, each time having new losses.

But what if we were truly prepared?

Graphic by Ericka Castillo

Yolanda’s cost of unawareness 

When Yolanda made landfall in November 2013, forecasts had warned of its intensity, but even then, the preparation was far from adequate. It is because responses were delayed and communications were down, slowing down rescues and overwhelming their evacuation plans. This resulted in reports of over 6,300 deaths, over 1 million houses destroyed, and thousands injured.

Aside from the strong winds that the super typhoon brought, a storm surge up to six meters high also happened. The surge, which many people didn’t fully understand, caused more casualties than they expected. 

In Tacloban, survivor Maricel Engracias mentioned that they didn't realize what a “storm surge” really meant. “Sabi lang raw, malakas ang bagyo na makakasira ng bahay. Wala namang sinabing may kasamang tubig na parang tsunami," she recalled. 

Now imagine a different story.

This time, before the landfall of Super Typhoon Yolanda, communities are now better informed of the risks. Naturally, there would still be damage from the disaster, but the impact that it would cause on people’s lives will surely be reduced. 

Because days before it came, preparations were already made. Locals would know what a storm surge is, what to pack, and where to go. Rescuers were already mobilized early with supplies already positioned in various areas. And hospitals would stay operational with backup power. It would be the same disaster, but with a completely different outcome.

Destructive power of Bohol Earthquake

But what if the ground itself turns against its people?

On the morning of October 15, 2013, a 7.2-magnitude earthquake struck the province of Bohol, shaking it to its very core. Churches centuries old crumbled into dust. Roads cracked open like torn pages of a forgotten story. And as buildings collapsed, so did the lives of hundreds who were caught unprepared.

According to reports, the quake killed over 200 people, injured more than 900, and displaced over 340,000 residents. Around 73,000 structures were damaged, with 14,500 totally destroyed—including cultural landmarks that held not just historical value but deep emotional ties to the community.

But again—what if we were prepared?

What if buildings had been retrofitted with proper seismic design? What if evacuation plans were drilled regularly and accessible to everyone, including seniors and persons with disabilities? What if warning systems and emergency response were better funded, practiced, and embedded in daily life?

Bohol, like many places in the country, was rich in spirit but poor in systems. Recovery was slow. Families spent weeks under makeshift tents, and schools halted classes for months. Had the Philippines invested more in earthquake-resilient infrastructure, risk mapping, and localized disaster education, the damage—especially to human life—might have been dramatically less.

Disasters will come, that’s a given. But disaster resilience—that’s a choice we keep postponing.

Currently, the Philippines have made progress with disaster preparedness. More people now say they understand early warnings and know what to do. But at the same time, many still rely on last-minute announcements, limited supplies, and inaccessible evacuation sites. Resilience isn’t about avoiding disasters, but preparing and learning from them. 

The Big One

Now, all eyes are on “The Big One”—a potentially catastrophic earthquake predicted to hit Metro Manila due to the movement of the West Valley Fault. Experts say it could reach a magnitude of 7.2, with the capacity to kill tens of thousands and destroy thousands of buildings in just minutes.

And here’s the hard truth: we are still not ready.

Too many structures in the capital remain unsafe. Too many families don’t know what to do when the shaking begins. Emergency services are underfunded, and evacuation routes are blocked by urban sprawl.

But we can change that fate. We can demand policies that prioritize risk reduction over reactive aid. We can integrate earthquake drills, retrofitting programs, and community-based preparedness plans into our daily lives. We can train local leaders, empower barangays, and make disaster education part of every classroom.

Still, change should begin with those who are in power, not just with us. They have to be the ones to take the first few steps. Starting with strengthening infrastructures, making early warnings accessible, ensuring that no family is left behind when disaster strikes. Knowing that a simple rain can already cause flooding in different areas, then there’s definitely much more damage during a typhoon and an earthquake. 

And while we’re preparing for disasters, we should also take a look at how we’re living, because preparedness is also about being responsible. By actually choosing to live a more sustainable way of life, we can contribute more to the solution. Start by using less plastic, producing less waste, caring more for the places that protect us—like our forests, our mountains, and our seas. Because every small action that we do will collectively take its toll sooner or later. 

Disaster resilience isn't just a buzzword. It’s a commitment—a fierce, stubborn hope—that the next time the ground trembles or the skies rage, we are ready not just to survive, but to rise again, stronger, smarter, and more united.

Because the next disaster doesn’t ask if we’re ready.

But we can be.

Article: Franchesca Grace Adriano and Rebelyn Beyong