X+Y+Z

Fighting fire

This story originally appeared in the Philippine Daily Inquirer on October 18, 2005.

Last month, I came home to the sight of our house burning. Until now, I cannot find the right word to describe how I felt that night, but “surreal” probably comes closest. 

For 30 years, my parents lived in that house. I grew up in it, was potty-trained in it, labored in it for hours on end studying my lessons, and cried, celebrated or just stared out into the busy street while living in it. And now, it’s gone. There are days when I wake up thinking I am still in my old room. The green walls, the stiff bed…and then I realize they are all gone now. 

I did not cry that night. Crying is a sign of despair, hopelessness, sadness, and I was beyond all that. 

There were fire-trucks all over the place. As my friend Dep and I hurried toward the building, a friend of my mom led me to their house to spare me the pain of watching the horrific event. As I sat in their living room, I knew what was going on. Regi, my boyfriend, kept calling to give me comfort, but I was too numb to respond. In my head, the fire raged, eating up everything I considered special in my room, and everything my parents had worked for for more than 30 years. 

That night, I felt like I was one with the world. Suddenly, I too had a painful story to tell. 

I can’t really say which was sadder, seeing our house burn down or knowing that it could have been saved. Our unit was farthest from the house where an LPG tank had reportedly leaked and exploded. There were a few minutes when my parents just stood around and stared at our burning house while firemen did exactly the same thing. The scene would have been funny, but this was for real, not a comedy flick. 

We were furious at the firemen. How could they have let this happen, when our house was only 15 minutes away from the fire station? Why didn’t they have the proper gear—masks, hard caps, hand-held radios, ladders? When it came to being equipped for the job, I would’ve made a better fireman. 

As the fire died down, so did our fury. It was useless to get angry at those firemen. For like us, they too were victims that night. When their heads cleared and their emotions subsided, my parents even apologized to the team head for getting mad at them. 

He said he understood. And he too was sad that they came poorly equipped to stop the fire. They had tried mighty hard to contain the blaze. One of his men even got injured while doing his job. Another kindly return the video cam he had retrieved from our house. The night did not consist exclusively of horror stories. 

Now we are renting a unit in the opposite building. My parents are busy putting together the requirements for their insurance claim and discussing with the building administration how to go about rehabilitating the place. My brother continues to examine every electronic equipment to see which ones still work or can be repaired. Ate Yolly has been working hard to make our rented unit as homey as possible. You see, when your house burns down, more work follows. 

But every step of the way, there were friends who made things easier for us. Until now, it still feels a bit weird to accept material help from others. I remember how I used to complain to God that whenever my bank account reached a certain figure, someone amazingly needs “financial augmentation.” After this fire, after learning how to accept and thank people for what they have generously shared with us, I know how true is the saying that it is better to give than to receive. It was—and still is—a humbling experience. 

Despite all the goodness my family and I have been showered with, I sometimes ask God, “How could You have let this happen? Where were You when our house was on fire?” As I said in an e-mail thanking all my friends for their help, to this day, I still don’t know what His master plan is. Maybe this is really a test of faith. But as my best friend Maui put it: “If it was hard for you to see God’s face when your house was on fire, I hope it’s easier for you to see Him now in the faces of everyone who’s here to help you get through this.” 

There are so many people to thank. If I were to list them all down, it would take me a day or two. Yes, it may be hard to know God’s plans. I will wait for the signs. After all, who am I to rush God and command Him to do something for me right now? There is comfort in believing that in His time, things will fall into their proper places. 

But I would like to throw the same question to the government: How could you have let this happen? I can go on and bitterly blame the government, but that would be a futile exercise. Instead, I would like to enjoin government officials and policy makers and everyone on Juan dela Cruz’s payroll to please, please take a look around you. It wouldn’t hurt to have some concern for your constituents and their living conditions. Look at how our public hospitals have been reduced to a sorry state. See how our public schools have become unbelievably overcrowded. Look at how the lightest rain can get our streets flooded. Maybe then you would feel a twinge of guilt when you dip into the public coffers. 

When I talk about the government, I am also talking about the opposition. For as the Bible says, let him who is without sin cast the first stone. Aside from criticizing the administration, what has the opposition offered by way of viable and logical solutions to our problems? And what has it done to make things better for our people? 

While our political leaders fight—be it in Congress or in the media—our country’s problems continue to fester. This may seem unrelated to our family’s experience, but actually I am writing about the same things: falling victim to undesirable circumstances and being failed by our officials.

I am not saying that government officials should solve all of our country’s problems. What I am saying is that at the very least, they should not be a part of the problem. They should stop fighting among themselves and work together to put out some fires.

Cey Enriquez

Cey Enriquez, 24, is a copywriter for Leo Burnett advertising agency.

Related Articles

Check Also
Close
Back to top button