The dawn of 2026 brought a collective sigh of relief for many in Cebu. For countless Cebuanos, the year 2025 was a brutal chapter marked by profound loss, relentless anxiety, and sheer exhaustion. It was a period that tested more than just physical structures and livelihoods; it strained the very patience and trust citizens place in the institutions sworn to protect them. If any year ever deserved a firm and final farewell, it was 2025.
The Scars of November 4: A Disaster Remembered
Today marks two months since the catastrophic flash floods of November 4, 2025. On that fateful day, rampaging waters tore through communities across the province, including Bacayan in Cebu City, Talisay City, Compostela, Consolacion, and Liloan. In the terrifying darkness, families were forced to flee their homes, some climbing onto rooftops to escape the rising deluge. They would later return to find only the hollow shells of their former lives.
On the surface, normalcy seems to have returned. The mud has been cleared from the streets, and traffic flows once more. Life, it appears, moves on—but slowly, painfully so. For the survivors, the path to recovery has been fraught with immense personal and financial cost. Why do we keep counting the days and months since the disaster? Because marking time matters. Noting one month, then two, then three, is a crucial way of affirming that a disaster does not end simply because the calendar pages turn.
The Heavy Price of Rebuilding Lives and Hope for Justice
The financial toll of rebuilding has been crushing. During the recent Christmas holidays, many families spent thousands of pesos to replace essential appliances ruined by the floodwaters—refrigerators, washing machines, and electric fans. The list of losses is long: beds, furniture, clothing, school supplies, and countless basic household items all had to be repurchased.
Perhaps more debilitating was the destruction of vital documents. Land titles, passports, birth certificates, and government identification cards were lost or damaged, requiring significant time and money to replace. One survivor recounted being left with only a senior citizen’s ID after a passport was ruined and other IDs were buried in mud. The passport office even imposed a P350 penalty for a "mutilated" passport—a fee the survivor defiantly said should be charged to typhoon Tino.
Accountability on the Horizon for Cebu Flood Failures
As the new year unfolds, a cautious but tangible hope emerges from the pursuit of accountability. Anti-corruption advocates have indicated that the filing of cases will begin this January against Cebu personalities believed to have contributed to the systemic failures that exacerbated the flood's impact. Earlier statements have pointed to contractors, developers, and government officials as possible subjects for legal action.
This is the core reason for keeping count. It is not to dwell morbidly on loss, but to actively resist forgetting. Each passing month without clear answers serves as a pressing reminder to ask the hard questions: What has changed since last month? Who has been formally named? What concrete fixes have been implemented?
True hope for Cebu in 2026 does not lie in forgetting the trauma of November 4. Authentic hope is rooted in remembering, in persistently asking questions, and in insisting that the hard lessons of that day are not lost to time. Hope is not the absence of anger or grief; it is the steadfast belief that things can, and must, be done better. The people of Cebu deserve nothing less.
