The ground in Davao Oriental has scarcely settled, but the aftershocks of the devastating October 10th earthquakes continue to reverberate, not just through the earth, but through the very fabric of our society. As we mourn the dead, tend to the injured, and witness the collapse of homes and hospitals, we must confront an uncomfortable truth: the scale of this tragedy was not carved by tectonic plates alone. It was magnified by a far more predictable and destructive force—systemic corruption.
Every year, the Philippines is battered by typhoons, shaken by earthquakes, and threatened by volcanic eruptions. We are a nation forged in the crucible of the Pacific Ring of Fire. This is our geographic reality. What is not, and should never be, acceptable is how this predictable risk is compounded by the man-made disaster of corruption.
When a hospital like the Manay District Hospital sustains foundational cracks, forcing the evacuation of the vulnerable, we must ask: was it built to the highest safety standards, or were corners cut? When bridges crumble and public buildings are declared unsafe, we must question if the billions allocated for infrastructure were fully and properly used, or if a significant portion was siphoned into private pockets. This is not mere speculation. The World Bank has previously estimated that up to 20% of public infrastructure funds in the Philippines can be lost to corruption, leading to substandard materials and shoddy construction that cannot withstand the very disasters we know are coming.
Consider the annual national budget. Billions are allocated for disaster risk reduction and management. Yet, time and again, when calamities strike, local governments report a lack of resources, inadequate evacuation centers, and a shortage of relief supplies. Where does this money go? The Commission on Audit (COA) has repeatedly flagged irregularities in the use of calamity funds across various government levels, pointing to unliquidated transfers, questionable purchases, and projects that exist only on paper. These are not just accounting errors; they represent a fundamental betrayal of public trust that leaves communities dangerously exposed.
The connection is painfully direct. A bribe paid to a building inspector to overlook a safety violation becomes a death sentence for a family trapped in a collapsed home. A kickback from a contractor using subpar cement results in a bridge being washed away, isolating entire communities from aid. Funds diverted from disaster-preparedness training programs leave citizens not knowing how to react when the ground begins to shake.
The recent earthquakes in Davao Oriental, which claimed lives and shattered communities, are a brutal reminder of this reality. As Governor Nelson Dayanghirang leads the difficult task of search, rescue, and recovery, the national government’s response, coordinated by the NDRRMC, will be a critical test. Will the aid pouring in reach the intended victims swiftly and fully? Or will it be another opportunity for the unscrupulous to profit from misery?
We cannot control the movement of the earth's crust. But we can, and must, demand accountability for how our public funds are used to protect us from it. We need more than just reactive relief efforts; we need a proactive, nationwide commitment to dismantling the culture of corruption that turns natural hazards into national tragedies. This means enforcing stringent building codes, ensuring transparent procurement for all public works, and prosecuting those who steal funds meant to save lives—regardless of their position or influence.
Until we address this deeper fault line running through our governance, we are doomed to repeat this cycle of devastation. The next big one is not a matter of if, but when. We owe it to the victims in Davao Oriental, and to all Filipinos living under constant threat, to ensure that when it comes, the foundations of our buildings, and our integrity, will hold.
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