When Villa del Rio started pre-selling in the late ‘80s, I bought a house and lot. The house was not yet built but I paid the purchase price because I trusted in the developer’s reputation.
One Sunday, days before the promised turnover, I went to the site to check on the progress of the construction. The guard at the gate, however, refused to let me in, citing company policy that prohibited site visits on Sundays.
Just then a van arrived. The guard promptly lifted the barrier and the van was inside the subdivision in a jiffy. Noticing my surprise, the guard nonchalantly told me, “Si congresswoman to ug ang iyang bana.”
The following day, I canceled my purchase and asked for a refund. I did not mention my experience with the guard, only that from what I heard, a delay in the turnover of the house and lot was inevitable.
That fit of pique spared me from potential harm more than 30 years later.
I mourn the loss of life and property from typhoon Tino. Too many times in the past, we have witnessed how deadly rampaging waters could become but we never learned from the experience.
This week we paid the price for our lack of care and criminal negligence.
A few questions. Why does the government allow the development of villages and subdivisions in flood-prone areas like those that practically abut rivers? Why are developers allowed to level mountains and then brag about the defilement as beautiful and state-of-the-art?
Graft and corruption are not a new invention, and the crooks have been bleeding us dry for decades. Why have we not sent anyone to the electric chair or the gas chamber when the death penalty was still allowed, or made to rot in jail after it was banned?
In my moments of despair, I have wished that one day, just one day, Lord, when the rains pour from the skies, the rivers become swollen and the waters rage down the slopes, they would all conspire to drag along at least the top 10 corrupt contractors and public officials and dump them into the sea.
This week, they escaped harm again, wallowing in comfort in mansions built from money that they looted even as the winds howled and rain pounded without pause while the rest of us trembled, some drenched and shivering on rooftops, wondering when their ordeal would ever end.
In the end only those who were poor like us died. It’s so unfair.