13/10/2025
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ | ๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐
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๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐, ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐
๐
๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐
The earth shook again.
The fear returned again.
And once more, the response crawledโslow, deliberate, unhurried, as if danger had the patience of a turtle.
It has happened before.
And now, it happens again.
Announcements that come when hallways are already full, when tricycles have already left driveways, when parents have already waved goodbye with worry heavy in their throats.
This time, it is not just the students. It is their families, who wait anxiously for a message that should have come hours earlier. It is the teachers, caught between duty and dread, who must show calm while the ground reminds them how fragile that calm is. It is every driver, vendor, and guard whose morning was risked by a system that refuses to learn.
Students have had enough.
We have all had enough.
How long will we keep moving like this? Slow, uncertain, unbotheredโwhile disasters sprint ahead of us?
They say safety is a priority, but what kind of priority arrives after everyoneโs already exposed to danger? What kind of system takes pride in preparedness yet repeats the same hesitation that once put lives on the line?
This is the second time around.
And each repetition turns into a habitโone that normalizes delay, excuses it, even defends it.
But if one student, just one, had been hurt on the wayโwould anyone be held accountable? Or would the blame, too, move at a turtleโs pace until it disappears into silence?
Every late announcement is not just inefficiency. It is negligence disguised as procedure.
Safety should not crawl. It should run. Faster than fear, faster than the shaking ground.
We have had enough of slow responses and recycled apologies. Progress cannot move like a turtle when lives are at stake.
๐๐ฉ๐๐๐ ๐ข๐ฌ ๐ง๐จ๐ญ ๐ ๐ฅ๐ฎ๐ฑ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ฒ; ๐ข๐ญ ๐ข๐ฌ ๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ญ๐ฒ.
๐๐ง๐ ๐ข๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ซ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ญ๐ฐ๐๐๐ง ๐ฌ๐๐๐๐ญ๐ฒ ๐๐ง๐ ๐๐๐ฅ๐๐ฒ, ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ญ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ญ๐ฅ๐ ๐๐๐ง๐ง๐จ๐ญ ๐๐๐๐จ๐ซ๐ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ง.
By: John Kient Francisco
Art by: Divine Glory Beltran
