ILIGAN City ― It’s that time of year when parties abound—celebrations here, there, and everywhere. It’s the season to let loose and embrace the joy of the holidays. Life, after all, is too short not to indulge in moments of happiness, especially during Christmas.
But not every Christmas is merry. In December 2011, a heavy sense of guilt blanketed many households here. Could one celebrate when surrounded by sorrow? The days following December 17 of that year were filled with harrowing tales of survival during the early hours of that fateful morning.
A friend, Boy O., recounted how he and his son frantically climbed a coconut tree to escape the rising floodwaters. A professional couple, both teachers, grabbed their identification cards and wore them in resignation, so their bodies might be recognized if the worst came. Tragically, they were identified in the aftermath of Tropical Storm Sendong.
The devastation was widespread. A local radio reporter went missing, while his wife and family were found in the floodwaters miles away in Misamis Oriental. They had lived in Bayug Island, one of the hardest-hit areas. Another media figure, a radio station official, succumbed to Sendong’s wrath after deciding to return home for his money—a decision that cost him his life.
For days, I worried about my friend Bonitz. When I finally saw her on a side street, she looked disheveled but unharmed. She shared that when the waters surged, she, her son, and her mother swam to safety.
In Linamon, Lanao del Norte, a reporter described the grim task of photographing casualties lined up near a funeral parlor. He stood on seemingly shallow mud to take photos, only to realize later that the ground beneath him was laden with bodies.
My colleague Cita and I had been in Cagayan de Oro for a meeting with Gold Star Daily on the night of December 16. Staying in a hotel, we were unaware of the unfolding calamity in Cagayan de Oro and Iligan. By morning, news of the devastation reached us. Cita chose to skip the meeting, worried about her son back home. Fortunately, her son, using a flashlight, had climbed onto their roof and stayed safe.
I decided to attend the meeting and later traveled alone back to Iligan. The journey, hindered by roadblocks, took hours. Upon arriving, my son advised me not to return home immediately, as the mud-filled roads were nearly impassable. I sought shelter in a pension house, but all rooms were full. Left without a bed, I sat in a corner, waiting for morning.
The city narrowly escaped greater destruction. It was said that if the Hinaplanon Bridge had not given way to the surging waters, the flood would have engulfed the entire city. Legend credits the city’s patron saint, St. Michael, whose divine intervention supposedly caused the bridge to collapse, redirecting the waters. Despite such claims, over 1,600 lives were lost—a staggering toll that could have been much worse.
That Christmas was undeniably somber. The joyous gatherings of the season were replaced by grief, reflection, and an overwhelming sense of loss.
Yet, as Valentine’s Day of 2012 arrived, the community embraced celebrations again, perhaps as a way to reclaim the joy they had forgone during that sorrowful holiday season. The resilience of this city and its people is a testament to their ability to find hope and light, even in the darkest of times.
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