Walking the flooded streets of España, Manila in 1991, I remember the despair that gripped me with every step. The floodwaters rose to my knees, relentless and unforgiving, turning the journey home into a battle against nature itself. I waded through murky waters, with a heavy heart, wishing I had never left the City of Bacolod. There, I had never seen a street swallowed by floodwaters like this. I never felt the chill of defeat with every splash and stumble.
Fast forward to 2025, the city I once admired free of floods had suddenly experienced what used to be for Metro Manila only. After three decades, Bacolod and the rest of Negros now face the same nightmare I once thought belonged only to Metro Manila. Watching from afar, my heart ached as I saw posts from friends like Atty. Ralph Sarmiento, describing floods worse than anything in 40 years. I read from our LCC batch mates like Martin Gonzales joke about needing rubber boats, only to see videos seconds later of water invading their homes. The laughter quickly turned to sorrow, as Percival Salado, Ben Gonzales and others offered words of comfort to those whose homes were mercilessly invaded by water. Even Vicky Lopez, my batchmate from ELLI of Lions, posted her gratitude for food and medicine as her own home got flooded. It hurts to see people I know, people I care about, suffering, not from a typhoon, but simply from the neglect of those who should have protected them.
Floods have haunted humanity since biblical times, but today, they are no longer acts of God. Floods are the consequences of our own failures. Poor planning, greed and apathy have turned what should be rare tragedies into seasonal rituals. The NCR has suffered for decades, and now Bacolod and the Visayas rush to become progressive cities, only to inherit the same mistakes. We must grow, yes, but not at the cost of our people’s safety. The Ilonggo flood control project on Panay stands as a beacon of hope. A reminder that with vision, collaboration, and care, we can protect our communities.
Politicians point fingers, but it is time for unity between government, private sector and every Juan. We need leaders who care not just for their 3 terms in office, but for the legacy they will leave behind. I dream of a day when Bacolod rises, not just from the waters, but from the depths of neglect. When that day comes, I will look back and say, “I regret leaving Bacolod.” For now, I am grateful my home has remained dry, but my heart aches for those still caught in the flood.
As the floodwaters slowly recede from your homes, let this moment mark not just recovery, but reflection. Instead of only preparing your “go bags,” start compiling a different kind of list, one that names the government officials truly deserving of your trust and support, and another that highlights citizens whose integrity and accomplishments make them worthy replacements for those who have failed their communities. The next election is not just about ballots. It is about the future of our children and the legacy we leave behind. Three years from now, the power to shape that future will rest not in the hands of fate, but in your hands. Choose wisely, for the safety of our next generation depends on it. ||
