Life after Cebu's 6.9 Quake

Following the devastating magnitude 6.9 earthquake that struck the northern part of Cebu—especially around Bogo City—on Monday, September 30, 2025, life has not returned to normal. We are still being shaken by countless aftershocks. Just last night, we felt strong jolts again around 9:03 PM and 10:46 PM—each tremor renewed the fear, as though the earth itself would not let us rest. It is not easy to keep going, especially when the trauma settles deep in your bones. Even though we were already a bit far from the epicenter, the terror is still fresh. I can’t imagine how it must feel for those right at the source of the quake.  Almost all the nearby towns suffered significant damage: ruptured roads, cracked bridges, collapsed walls, destroyed churches, and countless homes rendered unsafe. What’s worse, heavy rainfall during or after the quake worsened the destruction, making rescue, relief delivery, and recovery even harder. I am deeply grateful, though, that many help and donations have already arrived for the worst-affected communities. These lifelines make a difference—without them, survival would be far more desperate.  I gathered these photos from a friend who is volunteering right now. He is on the ground, doing what he can to help, and he sent me images to share with you all so people outside our country can see what’s happening here in Cebu. My hope is that if someone abroad sees these posts—especially those who may have family here—they can at least understand what we are going through now. I continue to share updates because I want people—especially those abroad who may have loved ones in the Philippines—to understand the magnitude of what’s happening. It’s not just a headline. This is real life. Many families remain displaced, searching for safety, shelter, food, and water. Communities are stressed and traumatized. Volunteers and organizations are working tirelessly in the face of aftershocks, heavy rains, damaged roads, and limited resources. Despite all the destruction and uncertainty, you can truly witness the Filipino spirit of helping—that deep‑rooted bayanihan that makes us rise above tragedy. Neighbors share food, strangers volunteer shoulder to shoulder, families open their doors, and communities pull together without asking for thanks. In the face of aftershocks, flooding, and loss, people still extend a hand: packing relief goods, comforting those who lost everything, or donating what little they have. It’s this unity, this caring—even when life feels fragile—that reminds us we are never really alone. If my words, and the photos, can bring even just a little awareness—or spur someone to help or check on their family—then it is worth it.