Photo courtesy of Ezra Acayan and AsiaPac /Getty Images
In the span of weeks, two powerful typhoons — Tino and Uwan — battered the nation, unleashing floods, landslides, and yet another cycle of mass evacuations that Filipinos know all too well.
By the time Uwan made landfall in early November, more than 1.4 million people had already fled their homes. Entire barangays were submerged, roads were blocked, and two deaths had been reported in Catanduanes and Samar.
Relief began immediately as waters rose. Local governments, national agencies, and private institutions stepped in. But alongside the rescue missions and relief operations grew a louder national sentiment: a call for accountability in a country where every typhoon seems to expose the same wounds.
Public and Private Hands Moving Together
The government’s initial response was swift. The Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD) delivered ?6.4 million worth of food supplies to local governments and distributed 4,776 emergency food packs in the first days after Uwan’s landfall. A national state of calamity was declared soon after.
The Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) reoriented troops toward rescue and relief. The Philippine Army assisted 35,481 families, rescuing evacuees and supplying isolated communities. By November 11, floodwaters had receded enough for 56,459 individuals to return home.
Local governments ran parallel operations. In Naga City, where 7,388 families sought shelter, safety protocols were activated early, sparing the city from casualties. Yet even well-prepared LGUs found their own infrastructure faltering. Floodwaters seeped into the city’s People’s Hall, prompting Mayor Leni Robredo to open alternative shelters including her own office.
Retrofitting these facilities is already planned for 2026.
Beyond official channels, the private sector and civil societies stepped up in force.
Major mall chains such as Ayala, SM, Megaworld, Robinsons, and Filinvest waived overnight parking fees and opened parts of their buildings as makeshift evacuation spaces. Some offered resting areas, charging stations, restrooms, and even WiFi for evacuees and stranded motorists.
Philippine Amusement and Gaming Corporation (PAGCOR) also allocated ?32.85 million to procure 31,500 relief packs for Uwan-hit areas on top of its earlier distributions after Tino.
International assistance followed. The World Food Programme deployed food packs for nearly a million people and distributed ?4,000 in cash assistance to 210,000 families prior to landfall. Emergency telecommunications units and generators were sent to 14 provinces to restore connectivity.
Thousands of citizens, volunteers, and foundations — from the Kapuso Foundation to the Philippine Red Cross and Angat Buhay — worked alongside responders. Donation drives surged. Youth groups, NGOs, and even animal welfare organizations mobilized relief.
In the face of disaster, the response was undeniably massive. And yet, amid the relief and rescue updates, a different story was rising — one about frustration, corruption, and the limits of Filipino “resilience.”
The Flood-Control Fiasco
Behind much of the anger is a scandal that has worsened the public’s ire. Senate hearings and an Independent Commission on Infrastructure revealed a “web of corruption” involving billions in flood-control projects. Reports exposed substandard structures, unfinished flood walls, and unaccounted contractor spending.
One incident became symbolic of the problem. The ?100 million flood wall in Lucena that collapsed in August 2025. Investigations alleged that it was built using improper materials, including sand.
For many Filipinos, Uwan’s widespread flooding was not simply a result of nature, but of years of mismanagement and corruption.
Protesters argued that while citizens rebuild their homes each year, officials implicated in flawed flood-control projects continue to evade accountability.
President Marcos Jr. responded by promising that “many” of those involved would be jailed by Christmas. But for a public weary of promises, it remains a pledge that must be proven.
Voices From the Ground
As the nation grappled with the destruction, social media filled with calls for accountability. Statements that are unfiltered, urgent, and unmistakably reflect a nation that has become fed up.
From @muddypistol:
“Out: glorifying Filipino resiliency. In: demanding accountability from officials misusing funds meant for flood control projects.”
From @1ost_nfound:
“Enough with Filipino resiliency. Filipinos are not resilient because they choose to be. They are resilient because they’ve been left with no choice.
We’ve glorified survival for too long habang ang mga mandarambong ay payapang nabubuhay sa bahay na galing sa kaban ng bayan.”
From @_gwynevereee:
“Time and time again we are reminded kung gaano ka walang kwenta ang gobyerno natin. Let us stop romanticizing Filipino resiliency as the government will use it again as a scapegoat to be negligible rather than be accountable. We deserve a proactive government — let’s demand it.”
These voices echo a national sentiment that no longer accepts disaster as destiny. Whether in flooded barangays or online threads, Filipinos are calling not for praise in surviving, but for structural change that will keep future generations safe long before the next storm arrives.
Looking Ahead
As National agencies continue ongoing investigations into irregularities linked to flood-control projects, parallel rehabilitation efforts are underway in affected provinces.
And as the country moves toward recovery, the impact of the consecutive typhoons has underscored the continuing need for coordinated disaster preparedness, reliable infrastructure, and sustained cooperation among government units, private institutions, and communities.