Filipinos deserve deeper than a balde

El Niño looms as one of the most severe climate threats today. Global projections warn of 451,000 heat-related deaths worldwide, with the Philippines listed as one of the countries expected to suffer the worst impact.

Yet, against this sobering backdrop, during a media interview in Singapore on 11 October, the leader of the world's most disaster-prone country offered a remarkably underwhelming solution: reminding people of a humble balde as a preparation plan.

When backlash hit, Palace Press Officer Claire Castro tried to do damage control, saying, "kailangan po talaga natin, baldeng utak," referring to critics.

But the point is, is it really necessary to point out the obvious? As if a balde were some groundbreaking, high-tech adaptation. For millions of Filipino families, a balde is already a basic survival tool used to store clean water and food, serve as a plant pot, function as a compost bin, or catch rainwater.

It is already common knowledge how creative Filipinos are, especially in times of disaster. When floodwaters submerge entire neighborhoods, airbeds transform into makeshift boats, cement-filled sacks become barriers, and monoblock chairs turn into stepping-stone bridges.

This emergency demands real, long-term solutions that go far beyond a simple bucket.

What the public does not need is political theatrics. Citizens care little for a Palace press officer or a DSWD chief proudly drinking filtered water inside the air-conditioned halls of Malacañang. Of what use is purified water if the overall water supply and availability are critically at risk in the first place?

“We’re taking this very, very seriously,” the president declared during the viral interview, adding, "Paghandaan na natin, let’s do what we have to do."

The crisis is already upon us, intensified by a 7.2 percent inflation rate. The threat of Super El Niño has been making headlines for months, yet the administration still speaks in the future tense about preparing.

Of all nations, the Philippines has decades of frontline experience with punishing heatwaves and water shortages. The government speaks and acts as though extreme weather is a sudden shock rather than a predictable, recurring emergency.

We have lived through this before. During the 2019 El Niño, water service was cut off for months in many areas. Coming from a household with an OFW father, getting water rations was a huge challenge. Women like us could only carry pails of water compared to the drums that other families managed to haul.

This raises critical questions of fairness: Where are the targeted plans for vulnerable sectors, marginalized communities, and households at the highest risk of heat exhaustion, dehydration, and even fatalities?

Citizens are endlessly lectured on what to do: store food, save energy, conserve water, and simply stay hopeful. From typhoons and floods to droughts, the Filipino spirit has proven its strength, even as distrust in the government grows. The anticipated damage of this climate threat far exceeds the reach of traditional band-aid solutions, like cash aid handouts from local governments that require hours of waiting in long queues under the sun.

Meanwhile, the contrast in national priorities is alarming. The president can firmly defend the Pax Silica project, which could consume massive amounts of water. It seems that foreign investment plans are much clearer to officials than community protection and safety measures.

Filipinos deserve real water security, proactive infrastructure, and genuine leadership. After all, when the holidays roll around, we need at least enough for Noche Buena!