08/10/2025
| Faults of Neglect
by Kristabella Lama
The tremors struck without mercy. In one Cebu household, ceilings collapsed, and panic erupted. Amid the chaos, seventeen-year-old Lady Jane Ytang did not hesitate. As debris rained from above, she pushed her family to safety and used her own body as a shield. When the dust settled, Lady Jane was gone. Her death has been hailed as heroic, her name carried in tributes across the province. Yet behind the praise lingers a cruel irony: she should not have needed to die at all. Heroism, in this case, was demanded by neglect.
The magnitude 6.9 earthquake in northern Cebu claimed at least 72 lives and left hundreds injured. Historic churches were reduced to rubble, hospitals overflowed with casualties, and communities were cut off by landslides and impassable roads. The disaster tore through not only homes and heritage, but also the illusion of preparedness. The province, once celebrated as a vibrant hub of culture and progress is now a mess due to a tragedy that feels both natural and man-made.
To frame this disaster as something inevitable is to ignore the hard truth. Yes, tectonic plates shifted and fault lines moved. But the extent of destruction is the result of long-standing negligence. Infrastructure that crumbles at the first violent jolt, heritage shrines that collapse without reinforcement, and communities left without immediate rescue, all speak of complacency posing as inevitability.
The very fault line that ruptured in Cebu had not moved in more than four centuries. That historical silence should have been treated as a warning, not as a reassurance. Instead, the dormancy of the fault lulled institutions into forgetting that Philippine soil sits squarely on the Pacific Ring of Fire, where earthquakes are not a matter of “if” but “when.” The Archdiocesan Shrine of Santa Rosa de Lima in Daanbantayan, among others, was reduced to rubble — a painful reminder that culture and history vanish when foresight is absent. This highlights that dormant faults don’t mean dormant danger.
This was also not the first reminder. In 2013, the Bohol earthquake of magnitude 7.2 killed more than 200 people and damaged centuries-old churches across the Visayas. In 1990, the Luzon earthquake flattened Baguio City, killing thousands and isolating communities for days. And as far back as 1645, the so-called “Luzon Earthquake” destroyed Manila, earning the name Lindol ng San Andres for its ferocity. Each catastrophe left lessons carved into rubble, yet the pattern persists: short-term alarm, long-term amnesia.
Some say earthquakes are impossible to predict, therefore impossible to prevent. That much is true — prediction is beyond science, but prevention of large scale devastation is not. Countries such as Japan, equally quake prone, have demonstrated that rigorous codes, constant drills, and consistent enforcement dramatically reduce casualties. The claim that “nothing can be done” is not wisdom; it’s inaction.
This excuse is what continues to hover over the West Valley Fault, which cuts across Metro Manila and nearby provinces. Seismologists have long called it a “ticking time bomb,” warning that a rupture could kill tens of thousands in minutes, with aftershocks crippling the capital for weeks. Yet despite decades of alerts, the response has rarely gone beyond half-hearted drills and posters. If Cebu’s suffering cannot awaken urgency, what then will happen when the ground beneath the nation’s capital itself finally gives way?
Lady Jane’s sacrifice must not be turned into mere symbolism. To celebrate her courage without confronting the conditions that demanded it, is to betray her memory. The way forward is clear: enforce building standards, conduct real disaster drills, invest in early-warning systems, and hold leaders accountable so that resilience is no longer treated as destiny but built through genuine safety and preparedness. These are not just cracks in concrete; they are faults of neglect. And unless those faults are repaired, the next quake will write the same story again, only with new names etched in tragedy.
Cartoon by Kyle Xandros Arenas
Publication Material by Chaye Selisana
