The tempest
RAINSTORMS COME AT THE MOST PEACEFUL TIMES. August 1, 2009 brought the nation to an awakening it once thought insignificant—a national hero who lived for peace, freedom, and love united our severed nation with her literal demise. Her passing kindled a flicker of light to recall the past, provided a vision to the blurry future ahead and had given life to live with hope the habitual episodes of our everyday survival. A month later, the same flicker was harshly tested and blown by the unforeseen tragedies little typhoons had brought. It wasn’t the highways that turned into rivers, nor the swimming cars that made the typhoons tragic. It wasn’t the confused cats and dogs, the weeping mothers and cold children on rooftops nor the trapped human beings left to die in inescapable zones. What made it tragic is the unpreparedness of the government and each individual to the situation. The stressing part is—we are always unprepared. The scenario: million-peso dinner abroad versus improvement of drainage systems, presidential jet versus seminars in natural disasters, campaign ads contributions versus anti-littering laws and penalties, deforestation for factory sites versus reforestation and relocation of shanty residents and inutile foreign trips abroad versus a Doppler radar that could have had measured the amount of rain to pour if purchased years ago. The government obviously does not care much about PAGASA—nor should we expect them to prioritize hope. The priorities of the government are misled and irrelevant for the majority of the Filipinos. Robert Ingersoll, American lawyer and orator, once said, “In nature there are neither rewards nor punishments—there are consequences.” Blaming the act of God on this is simply washing themselves off the responsibilities they could have played as captains of the ship called Philippines. The reason that we are living in this technological era is not to live like the apes, waiting for whatever tomorrow might bring and live with it. We are given the choice to prepare—at least. We just did not choose good priorities. If God chose to punish us just because, He could have opted to bring pandemics or signal #6 typhoons. Blaming a higher order for a reckless disregard for environmental development is just a concocted alibi. If officials chose to cut and sell our million peso lumbers to foreign lands illegally and not replace them, if parents, teachers and officials do not give efforts to defame littering because they themselves are literers who do not give interest in the consequences of their actions, pointing fingers to God is not a convincing option. They do not care if their little candy packs decay or cause clogs. Neither do they worry if their little dumps are eyesores. All they care about is mere own convenience. Never mind the janitors or metro aids whose job is to sweep and wipe. Never mind what they do to the stinky garbage—whether they throw them on dumpsites or rivers or simply burn them to get rid of them, it’s okay as long as they don’t bother their households. That’s the problem of being selfish—we forget that we are interrelated to each other since we live in only one earth. It was our piled little selfish acts that brought us this tragedy. We forget the law of the universe. Looking back on all that has happened—we only got ourselves to blame. That exactly is what we need to hear from the leaders who forgot to prioritize the important. We need to hear that they were not able to provide rubber boats and helipads because they chose to preserve their authority by enticing their subordinates. We need to hear that they are not afraid of losing their leadership but of losing the opportunity to corrupt and steal. We need to hear them admit that they chose to serve themselves first and still are doing so by prioritizing their campaign ads and bribes just so they could handle power in a stronger form and could commit the same or even graver mistakes again. Never would we want to hear them again blaming other than themselves for their negligence and lousy governance. Woe to the leaders who were not able to swim in the dank mixture of urine, waste and tears of the flood victims. Woe to those officials who did not feel their flesh shiver at the thought of the psychological damage the tragedy has brought to the Filipinos. Woe to the literers who did not taste the rightful vengeance of their actions. Lest, we forget, the flicker fortunately did not only survive the flood. It also flamed more passionately for a new hope of good governance and change. Thanks to the good-hearted rescuers and givers who believe that they don’t need to be paid back for their genuine concern for their fellows. Thanks to the millions of peso bestowed to the victims to help them get on their feet again. True enough, disasters bring out the best in us. However, how many disasters are we willing to endure before finally saying: “Lesson learned—rewinds uncalled for”? Possibly Related Posts: |
