September 30, 2025, at 9:59 p.m., something happened that I will never forget. A magnitude 6.9 earthquake shook Bogo City. The ground moved so strongly that houses shook, walls cracked, and people screamed in fear. Children cried, parents panicked, and many people ran outside for safety. It felt like the earth itself was angry.
As a volunteer, I knew I had to help. My fear was there, but I pushed it aside because others needed me. When I reached the hospital area, I saw families holding each other tightly. Children were scared and crying. Some people had lost their homes, and others were too afraid to go back inside because aftershocks kept happening. That night, I understood that my city needed more than just food or medicine it needed care, comfort, and hope.
In the days that followed, we worked hard. Along with other volunteers, the local government, and the Red Cross, we set up medical tents and relief areas. My job was to help distribute food and water, assist the elderly in checking their blood pressure, and comfort children who were afraid. Giving food and seeing someone smile, even for a little while, made me feel the hard work was worth it.
There were times when I felt so sad. I saw mothers with tears in their eyes while feeding their children relief meals. Fathers looked lost, staring at the ground. Grandparents prayed quietly for strength. But even in those moments, I also saw hope. Neighbors shared food, strangers gave hugs, and volunteers kept working even if they were tired.
The hardest part was helping people deal with fear. With almost 2,000 aftershocks, people were always nervous. Children would hold on to their parents and cry whenever the ground shook again. That’s when I realized being a volunteer was not just about giving food or medicine it was also about giving emotional support. Sometimes, a kind word or even just listening was enough to help people feel braver.
Even though the work was tiring, I was never truly alone. My fellow volunteers became like family. We helped each other whenever someone was weak or scared. We prayed together and encouraged one another. That teamwork gave me the strength to continue.
Looking back, the earthquake was one of the hardest times in the history of Bogo City. But it also taught me what real service means. Being a volunteer is not about being the strongest it is about giving whatever you can, even when you feel weak.
The quake may have shaken our city, but it showed the strong spirit of the Bogohanon people. I will always remember the smiles of children who were given food, the hugs from families who found comfort, and the way volunteers stood strong like pillars of hope.
The 6.9 earthquake hurt our city, but it also showed that our unity and love for each other are stronger than any disaster. As long as I live, I will never forget this: even in the darkest times, the brightest light is the love we share through service.