EVERY TIME Macabebe floods, we hear the same words: katatagan, kapibabatan, pamiyadwangan, at matibe kasalpantayanan king Guinu.
We are told to be strong. To endure. To help one another.
And we do.
Youth leaders respond. Civic groups mobilize. Businesses donate. Private companies send help. Ordinary people share food, homes, and whatever little they have.
But there comes a point when we must ask if resilience is becoming an excuse for government inaction.
Climate change is real. This is something we will never deny. But if elected officials and government experts use it as the ready answer every time Macabebe floods, what should ordinary people expect from them?
Should we simply accept our fate?
Should we wait for the day when Macabebe and Masantol are almost completely under water, slowly erased from the map of Pampanga?
The people cannot be expected to volunteer their way out of a problem that requires government action.
For years, we have seen roads raised and embankments built. Yet the water keeps coming. And when we go through this ordeal year after year, we cannot help but ask:
Where is the bare minimum?
Why are there not enough rescue boats? Where are the trained rescue teams? Where are the proper vehicles to bring people to safety?
Where are the decent buses or trucks for workers who still need to report for work? Why are they dumped like livestock into garbage trucks, with no seats and no roof to protect them from the rain? Why are they made to wait for three hours in line?
These are not grand projects, but basic disaster-response needs.
And when relief comes, why should flooded families travel to a distribution centers, line up for hours, and wait for officials to arrive for the ceremonial photo-op?
Why not bring the relief items to each household?
For the record, government relief is not a personal gift from politicians. Department of Social Welfare and Development relief packs are funded by taxpayers. They should never be presented as a political favor.
Macabebe is already paying a heavy price. Businesses have closed. Investments have stopped. Families are leaving. Schools are losing students. Children are losing valuable learning time. Farms and fishponds are becoming increasingly difficult to sustain. Even the local hospital continues to face the challenge of remaining functional during prolonged floods.
This is no longer resilience. This is survival.
And survival should not be the permanent policy of government.
Yes, we should be grateful to the volunteers. We should honor their courage and generosity. But we should never romanticize their sacrifice to hide the failure of those sworn to serve.
We, the Macababad folks, do not need pity.
We need a government, from Malacañang to Congress, from the provincial capitol to the municipal hall that prepares, protects, invests, and delivers.
We need solutions that last longer than the floodwaters.
Because when government keeps us dependent on relief, that is not building resilience.
It is simply teaching us how to live with neglect.
