July 16, 1990, exactly 18 years ago, I was a witness to the monstrous disaster, a 7.8 magnitude earthquake, that hit the Philippines, particularly my town, where more than a thousand people died. I was six years old then and yet the horrible pictures of this event are still vividly etched in my mind until now.
It was a lively Monday afternoon. After my class (I was in grade one then) I dragged my three-year old brother to visit my Ninang (godmother) at the other end of the village and play with other kids in the neighborhood. Our small village is mountainous and we had to walk quite a long way to reach that place. Shortly after finding my Ninang’s home and playing for a while, the ground began to shake. It was weird for me as I have never felt that before. I don’t understand what was happening. Second by second, the shaking of the earth only gets stronger and stronger. Everybody started to panic. Then people started running from here to there.
I grabbed my brother’s little hand and we walked amongst the crowd. I couldn’t remember the succeeding events but I found myself and my brother alone in the apartment-type housing. It was dark all over the place. All the rooms were open but no one was inside. Fear started to well up in me especially when I felt like the floor was being torn apart. Tagging my brother along, I started to cry as we ran across the corridor. I could see an enormous fear in my brother’s eyes as he started crying too. It seems like everything was dark in my sight. I couldn’t remember the exact things that happened but in the midst of our running and crying I remember uttering the words “Lord, Lord”. That was one thing I was sure of. I could not remember being taught how to pray in my younger years. Perhaps Mama taught me how, but I have no memory of that until this happened. Realizing it now, I knew that in my little heart, I have known the existence of a higher power, the only power that could save me/us.
As we approach the end of the corridor, we met a big guy who carried us to the open ground outside the building where all the people were gathered for safety. With my wet eyes, I tried to recognize the people until I saw my Ninang, she ran towards us and brought her to the place where they were seated.
At home, my Dad panicked upon knowing we were not at home while the chaos was happening. Despite the terrible shaking of the ground and the falling of rocks along the road, he ran even without shoes or slippers on to look for us. Before getting to where we were, he had to pass by some perilous roads but he didn’t mind that. In a flash, he was already there and carried us back home. It was a big relief for him to see my family together during that time.
Hours passed and the situation worsened aggravated by several aftershocks and I could see the destruction this earthquake has brought. I could still remember dead bodies being transported along the road. Our house was situated along the road so I have actually witnessed the horror of the earthquake. Blood oozing from every injured person walking their way to the nearest clinic or hospital were scenes I couldn’t get off my mind. The mountains surrounding our village spewed a black substance from the cracks drawn by the shaking of the earth.
At six, my little mind could not comprehend all the things that were happening. I never heard the word ‘gin-gined’ in our dialect or earthquake in English but it has become the common utterance of the people at that time.
Another thing that has not escaped my memory during this event was how people prayed and cried out to God. I saw how people earnestly prayed. Everybody tied their rosaries around their hands and repeatedly say their prayers, holding their loved ones tightly. Kids who used to gamble on small cards or what we usually call before as ‘text’ and rubber bands (yes, kids during my time gamble on these) started to burn and destroy all of these as they were told they are sources of sin. Everyone, young and old was starting to realize it was the “end of the world” and everyone tried to repent. I did not understand the things that were happening but all my fears were gone when I was with my family.
A few days ago, I received an email of a prophecy from of a Brazilian guy, who accordingly predicted the death of Princess Diana, the 9-11 attack of the World Trade Center, the earthquake and tsunami disaster in Sumatra Indonesia in 2004 to name a few. His prediction now was that the Philippines will have an 8.1 magnitude earthquake on July 18, 2008. I felt fear the first time I read it. I am away from my family and out of the country right now and I couldn’t help but think of them as the day draws near. Today, as I remember what happened 18 years ago from my personal experience gives me an assurance of protection from the One who saved me and my family before. I have proven many times of His faithfulness and never will I doubt that He is able to do immeasurably more than what we can hope or imagine as His word promises and waiting for that day will only strengthen my faith in Him.
