IVY BETALMOS
About the Author: Ivy Betalmos is a Criminology student at Bohol Island State University – Balilihan Campus. She is a youth journalist for Kabataan For Change (KFC) and currently serves as the President of Batch Bagwis, the 4th-year graduating class of Criminology students. She is the former President of the Supreme Student Government (SSG), the Campus Student Organization(CSO), and the Aspiring Criminologists of the Philippines Society (ACOPS) of BISU–Balilihan. Ivy is also a TRAILER under YouthLead Philippines and a member of the Local Youth Development Council of Balilihan. She continues to use her voice and platform to represent the youth, promote civic awareness, and advocate for purposeful and transformative leadership.
“Who Pays the Price? When the People Drown in the Decisions of the Powerful”
Every time the rain falls, fear follows. Streets turn into rivers, homes into islands, and dreams into mud. And yet, for those in power, the ones who sign the contracts, approve the projects, and pocket the budgets. The floods are only an inconvenience, not a tragedy. For the rest of us, it’s a disaster we never asked for.
The Philippines, a country once known for its resilience, is now being tested beyond endurance. Climate change has become an everyday reality, relentless storms, unpredictable weather, and rising waters that swallow communities whole. But while nature plays its part, let’s not pretend that the destruction we see today is purely an act of God. Much of it is man-made that is born from greed, negligence, and corruption.
For years, officials have promised “flood control projects” and “environmental initiatives.” Billions of pesos were allocated, ribbon-cutting ceremonies were staged, and photos were posted on social media. Yet every rainy season, it’s still the same story: people wading through knee-deep water, families evacuating with nothing but the clothes on their backs, and children sleeping in makeshift evacuation centers.
So who really suffers? Is it the politician in an air-conditioned office or the mother carrying her baby through the floodwaters? Is it the contractor who gained millions from ghost projects, or the student who lost his schoolbooks to another storm? The answer is clear, it’s always the people who have no choice. The poor, the workers, the farmers, the ordinary citizens who endure the consequences of decisions they never made.
It’s easy for those in position to talk about resilience when they’re not the ones losing their homes. It’s easy to promise change when the floods never reach their gates. But resilience should not be romanticized, it’s not strength when people have no other choice but to endure. It’s survival, plain and painful.
The truth is, the people are not drowning because of the rain. They are drowning because of corruption, neglect, and misplaced priorities. For every substandard flood control project, there’s a community paying the price. For every misused budget, there’s a family rebuilding from scratch. For every political decision made without foresight, there’s a generation growing up believing that disaster is normal.
When did accountability become optional? When did leadership stop meaning service? Every peso lost to corruption could have built stronger dikes, planted more mangroves, or relocated vulnerable families to safer areas. Instead, it filled pockets while leaving the nation exposed, unprotected, unprepared, and unheard.
And so, as the waters rise, so does the anger of the people. We are tired of being told to “be patient” while politicians play safe and clean their reputations. We are tired of seeing press releases instead of progress, apologies instead of action. We are tired of paying the price for choices made by those who never have to live with the consequences.
This is not just about politics, it’s about lives. The elderly man whose small house washed away. The farmer whose crops drowned. The child who got sick because of polluted floodwater. And the forest that once sheltered life, now stripped bare by relentless quarrying, its trees gone, its soil wounded, its mountains eroding into the rivers and towns below. These are the stories that should haunt every official who looks away.
It’s time to demand accountability, not just in words, but in actions. Transparency in infrastructure, stricter environmental enforcement, and genuine climate adaptation plans should not be optional. They are urgent. The planet is changing, and so must our leaders.
And to the youth, our generation. It’s time to wake up and stand up. We can no longer stay silent while our future sinks in floodwater and corruption. This is our time. Be part of the conversation. Read, ask, question, and care. Indulge in the issues that shape your tomorrow. We are not too young to speak, not too powerless to act. Change has always begun with the youth who dared to say “ENOUGH.”
Because at the end of the day, when the next storm comes, it won’t ask who’s rich or poor, who’s in power or not. But it will always be the powerless who suffer the most, not because of the wrath of nature, but because of the failures of man.
So the next time the rain falls, remember this: floods don’t just come from the sky. Sometimes, they come from the greed that runs through the system. And until integrity rises higher than water, the people will keep drowning.