It’s raining again as I write this, making it hard to believe that something as frightening as a “Super El Niño” could soon dry up everything from faucets to farmlands. And what about the heat? Are we not used to the hot weather in these islands?

The most frightening thing about the coming El Niño — and the world weather experts say it is inevitable — may not be the searing heat. It is the fact that we have been given something rare in a climate emergency: a warning.

The World Meteorological Organization (WMO) states that there is a “nearly 100 percent chance” that El Niño will persist through February 2027.

More alarmingly, the phenomenon is expected to strengthen, potentially equaling two of the most severe climate anomalies recorded in modern Philippine history — the devastating 1997-1998 and 2015-2016 cycles. The latter wiped out over P15 billion in local agriculture, disrupting food security and rural economies.

What does a potentially historic El Niño mean for ordinary Filipino lives — and what can we do now while the window to act is still open?

The WMO’s latest update is genuinely extraordinary. Predicting a “very strong” intensity peaking toward the end of 2026, they caution that a powerful El Niño does not automatically mean equally severe impacts everywhere. Local effects depend heavily on the season and existing climate drivers.

But we have seen the blueprints of this crisis before. When Metro Manila’s primary water source, Angat Dam, breaches its 160-meter critical level, the taps run dry. When the heat index breaches a dangerous 42°C, our emergency rooms fill up.

We don’t know exactly how this latest iteration will translate in real life, but we have enough historical data to prepare. The question is whether we will. Or will we wait to act after the fact?

What does preparation actually mean in hard numbers and daily realities?

Families should start saving water. Do you know your household’s daily volume consumption? The average Filipino consumes around 160 liters of water daily. How much should we store? What happens when rotational water interruptions stretch from hours into days? How do we keep children, the elderly and pets safe during prolonged heat? Where will your emergency reserve come from when the water mains lose pressure?

With the government estimating hundreds of thousands of hectares of rice and corn at risk during severe droughts, what does a prolonged dry spell mean for crop yields, livestock survival, and food prices? What is the fallback if your usual market staples double in price or disappear from the shelves?

What will happen to construction workers, delivery riders, street vendors, and traffic enforcers who have to sweat through 40-degree afternoons outdoors? Can every family member spot the difference between heat exhaustion and a life-threatening heat stroke?

Are poorly ventilated classrooms prepared for the extreme heat? What happens when students cannot concentrate, or worse, collapse because the room has become an oven?

The Luzon grid routinely issues red and yellow alerts during the summer months. What happens when demand for air-conditioning surges precisely when hydroelectric dams are starved of water? Which room in your home maintains the lowest temperature? Do you have blackout curtains, cross-ventilation, and oral rehydration salts ready? Also, do you have rechargeable fans, solar power banks and contingency plans for rolling blackouts?

Could El Niño eventually drive inflation, showing up in the surging prices of a kilo of rice, vegetables and utility bills?

We don’t have to know exactly what will happen to know that we must prepare for the worst.

We are quite good at responses. Bayanihan comes alive after a typhoon. Volunteers arrive in droves. Donations pour in. But resilience can begin long before a disaster. The most powerful form of bayanihan is preemptive: the barangay actively checking on its vulnerable seniors, the school retrofitting its classrooms, the farmer pivoting to drought-resistant crops, the family securing rain catchments, and the employer enforcing heat safety protocols for his workers.

Preparation may lack the drama of a swift rescue, but when the heat truly sets in, the quiet things that are done today will be what ultimately will save lives.