A YEAR after a powerful magnitude 6.9 earthquake struck northern Cebu, families in Bogo City are slowly rebuilding their homes and moving forward. But for those who lost loved ones on that terrifying night, the deepest wounds are far from healed.
On September 30, 2025, at 9:59 p.m., a strong earthquake triggered massive landslides and destroyed homes across northern Cebu. While physical damage can be repaired over time, the families left behind are finding that grief does not have a simple fix.
On September 12, 2026, Lady Jane Ytang was supposed to celebrate her 18th birthday—a major milestone entering adulthood. Instead, her family gathered at her grave to light candles in her memory.
Lady Jane was only 17 when the earthquake triggered a landslide that swept through the mountainside communities of Purok Libas and Nangka in Barangay Binabag. She was one of 11 residents in the area who died that night.
Her mother, Juby Ytang, remembers how Lady Jane woke everyone up when the ground started shaking. When she realized her two-month-old sibling was in the house, Lady Jane alerted them to protect the infant.
As the landslide crashed through their home, a falling rock struck Lady Jane in the head. Her father suffered severe leg and head injuries while trying to save his family in the dark.
"Sakit kaayo huna-hunaon kay nawagtangan bahala nalang ta to’g trahedya nya wala lang ta to," Juby said.
(It’s very painful to think about it, because we lost someone. It was a tragedy, and then just like that, she was gone.)
Today, the dresses, shoes, and photos prepared for Lady Jane's debut remain untouched—quiet reminders of the future she never got to live.
The Ytang family has since relocated to a safer 100-square-meter lot in Hacienda Filomena, paying P1,000 a month for 10 years. Alongside nearly 200 other families from Purok Libas and Purok Nangka, they are building a new community away from the dangerous hillside, which city officials have declared off-limits.
For 53-year-old Melanie Muñez, recovery has meant living in a temporary tent for nine long months.
Muñez and six of her family members live in SM Cares Village in Barangay Polambato. After their home was badly damaged in the quake, they were forced to move into a temporary tent. Over time, the thin fabric has torn, leaving holes that leak whenever it rains.
"When it rains, water can rise to our knees," Muñez shared. On hot days, the heat inside the tent becomes almost unbearable.
Yet, the physical discomfort is not what hurts the most. Muñez is still haunted by the memory of her neighbors—a pregnant woman, her husband, and their two children—who died when their home collapsed right next door.
"Ampo lang gyud sa Ginoo na mayta’g di na ni mausab," Muñez said.
(I just pray to God that this will never happen again.)
Rehabilitation work across damaged communities is moving forward, but progress takes time.
At SM Cares village secretary Sheila Lequigan explained that workers are currently reinforcing structures, repairing structural cracks, waterproofing roofs, and repainting buildings. Out of the original 200 housing units, 12 were completely removed due to safety concerns, with plans to build a chapel in the empty space.
Currently, only about three units have electricity, and officials estimate that residents may not be able to return fully until 2027.
Like many others, Lequigan is living in a tent while waiting for repairs. She also lost her sister in the disaster.
One year after northern Cebu shook, streets are being cleared, walls are being patched, and new housing projects are underway. But for the survivors in Bogo City, the true cost of the disaster cannot be measured in concrete or money. Homes can be rebuilt and milestones can be remembered, but nothing can replace the lives that were lost.