I welcomed the new year with a sense of relief. I was grateful that 2025 finally ended. For many Cebuanos, it was a year of loss, anxiety and exhaustion; one that tested not just homes and livelihoods, but patience and trust in institutions meant to protect us. If there was ever a year that deserved a firm goodbye, it was 2025.
Now we have 2026. Today also marks two months since the flash floods of Nov. 4. Two months since flash floods tore through Bacayan in Cebu City, Talisay City, Compostela, Consolacion, Liloan and many other places across Cebu. Two months since families fled their homes in the dark, climbed rooftops to escape the rampaging waters and returned to the shells they now call home.
The mud has long been removed from the streets. Traffic has returned. Life appears to have moved on. Slowly. But for flood survivors, recovery has been painful and costly.
Why keep a count of the time that has passed since the disaster? Because marking time matters. One month after a disaster, then two months, then three. Counting the months is one way of showing that the disaster is not over simply because time has passed.
As the new year begins, there is cautious but real reason to be hopeful. Anti-corruption advocates have said that the filing of cases will begin this month against Cebu personalities believed to have contributed to the failures that worsened the impact of the floods. Contractors, developers and government officials have all been mentioned in earlier statements as possible subjects of accountability.
There are personal costs to rebuilding lives. Over the Christmas holidays, families spent thousands of pesos to replace refrigerators, washing machines and electric fans damaged by the floods. Beds, furniture, clothes, school supplies and basic household items had to be bought again.
Important documents such as land titles, passports, birth certificates and identification cards were destroyed, requiring both money and time to replace. For a while, I was left with only my senior citizen’s ID after my passport was ruined and my other government IDs were buried in mud until they were eventually found. The passport office even charged a P350 penalty for a “mutilated” passport. I told them to charge it to typhoon Tino.
This is why keeping the count matters. Not to dwell on loss, but to resist forgetting. Each month that passes without answers is a reminder to ask: What has happened since the last month? What has changed? Who has been named? What has been fixed?
As 2026 begins, hope lies not in forgetting. Hope lies in remembering, asking questions and insisting that the lessons of Nov. 4 are not lost to time.
Hope, after all, is not the absence of anger or grief. It is the belief that things can be done better. We deserve better.