During the onslaught of Supertyphoon Carina, the government bore the brunt of criticism as the entire National Capital Region (NCR) and several other areas were submerged. Interestingly, while severe flooding turned much of Mindanao into a scene reminiscent of Kevin Costner’s “Waterworld” a week before, the public outcry was significantly louder for the NCR.

Senator Migz Zubiri exemplified this misplaced panic when he hastily blamed Manila Bay reclamation works for the flooding outside the Senate building in Pasay, only to find the waters had receded within hours. This pattern repeated across the metropolis, sparing areas like Bulacan and other parts of Central and Northern Luzon, where residents empathized with the experiences of their southern compatriots. I now know why Zubiri got his butt kicked as Senate president.

What does this tell us? Are we like the boy who cried wolf, or do we don’t know when to raise our voices about flooding?

Residents in low-lying, flood-prone areas understandably feel anxiety whenever it rains. Interviews with Marikina, Cavite, and Parañaque residents reveal a common narrative—they have adapted to their situation, expecting floods every monsoon season. Living near coastlines or in areas identified as flood-prone by PROJECT NOAH, the University of the Philippines’ flood alert system, inevitably comes with the risk of inundation.

So why do people choose to live in these areas? When I was house hunting, I made sure to ask around if the area was flood-prone. Every reasonable person would conduct a visual check and a “social investigation” before deciding where to live, right?

The argument that those living in flood-prone areas do so because they lack financial means is invalid. Many of those affected by recent floods are middle-class families who chose their locations long before PROJECT NOAH existed.

The crux of the matter is discerning when a situation deserves public outcry and when it merits silence. The Senate plans to investigate the recent flooding yet again. But isn’t this just a waste of taxpayers’ money? The Senate has conducted numerous probes in the past, yet the problem persists.

The evidence shows that the flooding during Carina’s onslaught was merely “flash flooding” caused by tons of garbage clogging drainage systems and undercapacitated pumping stations—an admission made publicly by the DILG, MMDA, DPWH, and even President Marcos.

The flooding dissipated a few hours after the rains stopped. Public rants would be understandable if these floods lingered for weeks or months, as they did in Laguna and Pangasinan before. Flash floods occur even in sophisticated cities in first-world countries. We know this, yet we still rant every time it happens in our backyard.

Instead of reacting impulsively, Filipinos must learn to distinguish between minor, short-lived inconveniences and severe, persistent problems. Blaming the government for every instance of flooding is neither productive nor fair. Instead, we should focus on proactive measures, such as proper waste disposal and robust urban planning, to mitigate future flood risks.

It is time for a shift in our collective mindset. Let us prioritize long-term solutions over momentary frustrations, and work together to build a more resilient and prepared Philippines.