I was 21 years old when Super Typhoon “Odette” wreaked havoc on our city on the afternoon of December 16, 2021. Despite living in a typhoon-prone area in the northeastern part of Mindanao, I had never fully grown accustomed to the devastation that extreme weather could bring, especially the kind “Odette” delivered.
That afternoon, I prayed fervently as the wind mercilessly tore off roofs, shattered windows, uprooted trees, and the torrential rain destroyed appliances as if they were made of paper. Later, the streets were filled with debris. It felt as though the weather had gone on a rampage, and we were nothing but vulnerable, helpless witnesses.
Just recently, Typhoon “Tino” (international name: Kalmaegi), with its gusty winds and relentless rain, transported me back to that terrifying day. I am now 25 years old, yet I could not fathom the fear that gripped me from yesterday afternoon well into the night. I prayed so hard. I could hear the menacing howl of the wind and feel the cold creeping into my skin. It reminded me so vividly of that one unfortunate event a few years ago.
In moments like these, I tend to gravitate towards panicking, overwhelmed by the storm outside and the storm within, both stirred by memories I wish I didn’t have to relive. The emotional toll was tantamount to reliving the trauma all over again. It’s a stark reminder of how really vulnerable we are in the face of nature’s wrath.
While our city may not be feeling the extraordinary brunt of Typhoon “Tino”, my prayers now are for the places currently in its path. I hope it does not cause severe damage or suffering in any way.
Fast forward to this morning: I woke up to the warmth of the sun piercing through the clouds—a sign of God’s grace and mercy. Power lines and internet connections have been restored, and water is now available in our area after hours of being cut off. And as of this writing, I find comfort in the light, even as the shadows of yesterday remain silently in my headspace. But what is more certain now is that we are safe.
Thank God there isn’t much damage. Marajaw Karajaw!
(Jhon Steven C. Espenido, 25, is from Surigao City.)