Mothers: Amidst ruins of  Typhoon Pablo

IT  was dark when I and my two little daughters went out of a mall in Panabo City, Davao del Norte on a December weekend.  I bought them dress and gifts for their Christmas Party.  Crescent moon appeared shining behind dark clouds partly lit by few stars. 

I clutched my daughters as I looked at the moon which brought memories of typhoon Pablo displaced mothers and their children in badly hit towns in Davao Oriental and in Compostela Valley. Poignant thoughts crossed my mind. 

My fellow mothers in  the typhoon-struck areas could  also be  looking at the same moon, with their children beside them.  We could be thinking the 

same for our children: shield them from harm. However, we’re on different places, going through different situation.  My place was spared from the tragic blow of typhoon Pablo.  My children were saved from a horrible experience.

 My mind flashed back the faces of women   and children at evacuation centers, in relief distribution areas, and along the streets  in severely typhoon-hit  areas. I saw them face to face during  the media visit organized by Philippine Information Agency XI and Radyo ng Bayan.  We went to Davao Oriental east coast towns   of Baganga and Cateel, a week after super Typhoon Pablo made a landfall. 

What the media practitioners saw in those devastated towns confirmed the indication seen in the face of Provincial Governor Corazon N. Malanyaon who had been working as a mother to the province.  Who would not be sad of the damage created by  super Typhoon Pablo  which  lashed Davao Oriental’s east coast towns of Baganga, Cateel  and Boston  with its wind strength of 175 kilometer per hour (kph and gustiness of  up to 200 kph? 

She wore melancholic face the night before embarking on that trip with with PIA Regional Director Efren Elbanbuena.   She tried to keep her feelings from the media visitors. However, on the day Tyhoon Pablo struck her  province (Dec. 04), she confided  feeling  “frustrated”, “devastated” and totally saddened especially  when she learned that the Manurigao bridge which she hoped to lead her, right on that day, to Baganga, Cateel  and Boston,  had collapsed.

Indeed, there was no way she could cross it as 80 percent of the  bridge  was swept  away by the strong surge of floodwaters.  The  destruction could still be evidently seen during the media visit.  The  remaining portion of  the Manurigao Bridge  was partly buried under debris of uprooted trees and logs.

With no other means of crossing the river,  the media visitors, few of whom  were women, took a boat ride to get to Baganga from a boundary in Caraga. They took the same route that everyone  had to pass through without exemption just to get to the severely affected east coast towns  of Baganga and Cateel. (Boston can be accessed through Lingig, Surigao del Sur).

            At the first stop of the media visit in Barangay Baculin, Baganga, a young mother was seen carrying a neo-natal baby, queuing for food relief.  She told her story about how she and her husband with their child hid amidst ruins of collapsed houses,  but still survived the raging storm.

Another scene showed elderly women joining the file of men, and of young and middle aged women  lining up for food assistance.  One of them said she had witnessed how Typhoon Pablo’s twirling wind struck a coconut tree with its fiery blow released in such a force she had never before seen in her lifetime.  

            “May dalang kalayo ang bagyo. Nagliyok nga dulum nga may kalayo sa tunga. (The typhoon brought fire.  It was twirling in gloom with fire at its center). Tan-awa ang dahon sa lubi. Dili na dayon mamatay pero nangalaya nga murag sunog.  (Look at the leaves of the coconut trees. Usually, they would not easily wither but they do; they’re seemingly burned.),” one said.

            Similar story was told by women in Barangay San Isidro in Cateel town.  An elderly woman of 65 years of age told her piece of story how she and her husband came out alive after super typhoon Pablo.  They got out of their lightly structured house when the wind  became unbearably strong.  They ran to an open space away from tall trees and heavy structures. 

            “Pagkusog sa hangin, nanghigda mi sa yuta para dili mi mapalid.  (When the wind blew hard, we lay on the ground so we won’t get swept away.)  Nagliyok  ang  dulum, murag may baga sa tunga.  (It was twirling in gloom,  seemingly with a smoldering ember),  she said.

A mother  and her husband  together with their six little children (the youngest was four months old)  ran fast to an open ground after their house  collapsed under Typhoon Pablo’s heavy blow.  They ducked, tightly clutching   their children, to evade the heavy whip and deafening gust of Typhoon Pablo.

            “Sakit sa panit ang iyang hangin kay may dalang gagmayng bato, dahon, abog.  Nabungol ko sa kakusog sa iyang huyop.  (Its blow was hurting because it brought along pieces of pebbles, leaves, dusts. I got deaf of its gustiness.),” said one woman .

            When we finally reached Cateel,  women stood out in number of typhoon victims waiting for relief distribution and  for release of cash assistance from Pantawid Pamilyang Pilipino Programan (4Ps). They sat under  tarpaulin tents set up at the town plaza which was  in a mess of debris tossed by the typhoon.

            Some were  with their fellow women  from their neighborhood.  Others were tugging along their children while there were those carrying their babies.  Each had a tale about the horrible experience and each  coughed out a complaint of not enough share of food and non-food assistance.

            “Unsaon na lang namo ni pag-uli nga dili pa man diay i-release ang kwarta. Namaylo lang ko pamasahe. (How can I possibly go back home; the money is yet to be released.  I borrowed my fare in getting here),” one woman said of her  4Ps conditional cash assistance.

            “Wala gipanghatag  ang tarpaulin sa among lugar kay kulang pa daw; dili daw maapod. (The tarps were not distributed in our place because  there aren’t not enough for everyone), “ another one said.

            “Dili mi hatagan ug food packs  here kay sa  barangay ra daw ipanghatag.  (We’re not given food packs here ; were told to get our share at the barangay),” said another.

            Their complaints  are  common elsewhere in severely affected towns.  They  are ubiquitous during distribution of food relief and of Noche Buena  packs,  whether in public places or in small church communities.  They are at the backdrop of every shattered house;  the hovering  spirit of  every typhoon-displaced  families. They continuously look for means to sustain food for their children.  They are the mothers.   (Jeanevive Duron-Abangan, PIA XI)