THE GREATEST MAGICIANS have something to learn from Mr. Mistoffelees’ Conjuring Turn – PRESTO! In a world that celebrates progress and profit, the voice of nature often goes unheard, much like the Invisible Girl who keeps giving, even when no one sees her!
Creation is a force to be reckoned with. So much so that in every event where natural calamities strike in the Philippines, the same scenes and the same stories replay like a tragic cycle. Families wading through floodwaters, homes swallowed by landslides, and children seeking refuge and solitude in the overcrowded evacuation centers. The storm passes, the sun returns, and yet, for thousands of Filipinos, the disaster never truly ends.
“…for true power lies not simply in rigidity, but in compassion; in choosing whether the greater worth rests in the strength of steel or the breath of air.”
Such was the plight that struck Davao Oriental and Cebu City this year, causing devastating losses to families, homes, and other infrastructures, compounded further by the recurring flood incidents that afflicted various parts of the country. Ultimately, beneath this pattern lies a painful truth-that climate disasters do not impact everyone equally.
And in this inequality lies the glaring disparity between the Superboy and the Invisible Girl; son of steel and daughter of air. He, the supposed savior and hero, is cherished even in his absence, his promises echoing louder than his deeds. She, ever-present yet unseen, breathes life into those around her, yet is never granted the same care bestowed upon the performative Superboy. So, too, does the Philippines mirror their story: the privileged and the powerful build walls of steel to shield themselves from the storms they helped create, while the unseen, the poor, the displaced, and the forgotten, endure the harshest of winds brought about by the ever changing climate.
The country stands among the most disaster-prone nations in the world, forever stationed at the frontlines of the climate crisis. Yet while nature’s fury spares no one, it is the poor who bear its fiercest blows. From the shantytowns along esteros in Metro Manila to the coastal villages of Eastern Visayas, communities live one storm away from displacement. Many of these families settle in danger zones not by choice but by necessity. And when disaster comes, the divide becomes clearer. The wealthy stand firm and able to rebuild like the son of steel Superboy. While the poor fade into the background, displaced and forgotten yet continues to be essential, like the Invisible Girl.
What makes this tragedy even more unjust is how government response, until now, often ends at relief, not reform. Tarpaulins and food packs arrive, but long-term relocation programs remain underfunded, and climate-resilient housing is rare.
This has been said once, and it bears repeating: climate change is not just a natural issue, but it’s a moral and political one. Because of these uncertainties, climate change further magnifies the inequality that defines our society. Thus, resilience, so often romanticized, must not mean expecting the poor to endure endless suffering; rather it should serve as a call to empower them to live safely, sustainably, and with dignity.
As for the powerful, the supposed leaders, the Superboy—it is high time that they should live up to their name, long perceived as bearers of strength and reforms. Being sons of steel,their resolve to serve the Filipino people must indeed be as unyielding as steel, yet tempered with the gentleness of air, for true power lies not simply in rigidity, but in compassion; in choosing whether the greater worth rests in the strength of steel or the breath of air.
Oh! Well, I never! Was there ever a cat so clever as magical Mr. Mistoffelees?
Email me at thebedan_managingeditor@sanbeda.edu.ph