An Endless Tale of Resilience

DIGITAL ART by Jirah Grace Cabibijan.

I was just six years old when one of the strongest and deadliest typhoons hit Eastern Samar. The only thing that I vividly remember that day was listening to the sound of my mother's lullaby, trying to lull me to sleep and distract me from the howling winds and clanking noises of our roof and our neighbors'.

As super typhoon Yolanda roared and whistled in the next hours, we held our rosaries and pleaded for God's mercy to calm down the storm. A few hours after the typhoon, we knew little about the whereabouts of our friends and family outside Borongan City. The cellphone towers and electric posts were down. At that time, we only knew one thing: Borongan City wasn't severely damaged by the typhoon. I could say that I was clueless as to what news would arrive on our doorsteps a few hours and days later.

I witnessed how my mother went back and forth from Borongan to her field assignment in Hernani. Sadly, the said town was one of those severely damaged by Yolanda, leaving more or less a hundred lifeless bodies buried in piles of debris. Apart from the stories I heard from my mother, I was unable to see the aftermath of Typhoon Yolanda in other municipalities due to the difficulty in accessing the wifi signal and electricity.

My mother told me what she saw firsthand in Hernani, the municipality to which she was assigned, and about the experiences of those who were severely impacted by the typhoon.

Even at a young age, I subconsciously felt the urge to help. My mother posted on her Facebook account the poster that I made, saying, "People need help because of the typhoon!"

Many people commented on how they could donate to the typhoon victims after the poster I created went viral online. Who would have believed that even in the simplest way, I could greatly impact the Yolanda victims?

Before Christmas, my mother went to ESDPES. At that time, she went to the principal of ESDPES to ask for one extra gift for each child during the Christmas party celebration. Our family went to Hernani to distribute the 200 toys that we had collected from ESDPES.

My schoolmates donated toys that looked like something I wouldn't want to receive because some of them were already old and used. But to the eyes of those children around my age, the toys they received seemed like their entire world.

It was amazing to be able to witness how the whole world came together to support and help the victims of Yolanda. The people of Eastern Samar will forever be grateful to the different representatives of the International Non-Governmental Organizations from various countries for helping the people restore their homes and other facilities that were washed out by the typhoon.

Through our donation drive, our family inspired other schools to do the same thing. Our family may not be rich, but we can find ways to ask for help from other people who are kind and willing to do so. Because sometimes people just need someone to push them to help. And the act of helping is more than enough.

Yolanda is more than just a typhoon. It is not just the typical sad or horrifying story of every Waraynon, but a story of resilience and strength.

As the pain of the past years slowly faded, people moved from denial to acceptance, and now we are more ready than ever.

We are celebrating the friendship we gained all over the country and even the entire world, in addition to remembering the pain and horrors of Yolanda.

Now in its ninth year of remembrance, I have already watched a dozen or more heartbreaking videos of Yolanda's stories in my social media feeds. I can't afford to be indifferent. I can't afford to raise one shoulder and shrug it all off. We have different stories to tell and share. We suffered and endured pain from different perspectives.

As extreme weather continues to be a new normal occurrence on our planet, a typhoon like Yolanda can happen at any time in our generation. The horrors may be repeated inevitably unless we do something to protect our planet—to lessen the strength and frequency of typhoons that drop by and leave painful footprints of horror, survival, and recovery.

Some have only fragments of memory and many still have vivid recalls about the terrors and helplessness of such tragedy. However, resilience and kindness have already been a part of who we are since the very start.

And even when we are reduced to rubble and dust, it will, without a question, continue to rise in us—for we are, undoubtedly, Filipinos.