Bulacan is drowning once again, and Bulakenyos are suffering once more. Yet until now, there are still no clear answers to their recurring question:”Kailan ninyo kami pakikinggan?”

“Lupang maharlikang tahanan, na salinhaling buhat sa lakan” These are excerpts from Hagonoy’s infamous hymn, “Bayan na Pinagpala ng Langit”. It describes the town as a place blessed by the heavens–a homeland filled with pride, culture, and history. On the surface, it paints a picture of a community worthy to be proud of; a place you would actually want to call home. However, can this town really be called “blessed” when all that can be seen are murky floodwaters? Can a place truly be considered as heaven sent when its people are left to suffer the same calamities, over and over again? What good are these rich lands if its people are left vulnerable, with the same unheard pleas? The hymn’s words of pride opposes the real condition beneath–a community left drowning, not just in floodwaters, but in negligence and unanswered questions.

Another storm hits, and floodwaters once again rise. Different parts of Bulacan are once more submerged in water, for what the citizens think happens in an unending cycle. However,  one of the most saddening part amidst it all are not the sidewalks rising with water, nor is it the uneven, rough roads full of potholes, but rather the people’s desperate need for help, the cry for change, and the unwavering feeling that in times of crisis, they are left to face a problem they should never have to deal with alone in the first place. 

On August 31, 2026, hundreds of farmers, fishermen, students, and residents gathered at Malolos, Bulacan to rally against the continuing issues of flooding, corruption, and reclamation followed by the anomalous ghost flood-control projects. The protest was led by the anti-corruption group known as “Kilos Bulacan” with over 600 participants joining in. They lunged through the high floodwaters to set out a call-to-action for the government; the same flooded streets that were the reason for their suffering were turned into their avenue of protest. 

They demanded accountability, justice, and sought for answers. As they marched through the flooded roads, they held one, clear message–they are tired of suffering, tired of waiting, and tired of remaining unheard and unseen.

They also fought against the proposed establishment of the 2,500-hectare New Manila International Airport (NMIA) that will be built in Bulakan, Bulacan. This was also considered as another factor for the floods across different communities in the province. The protesters claimed that the development has displaced almost 1,000 families and the destruction of natural resources. This infrastructure will be another addition to Bulacan’s list of modernization projects. This may seem as a pathway for development and convenience for many citizens. However, what good is modernization to residents who remain submerged in floods? Why put time and money into establishing something that will not save the homes damaged because of calamities? Progress should serve the whole community and bring positive advantages to it, not set it back. 

For years, flood-control projects have been presented as the long-awaited answer to Bulacan’s recurring floods. Citizens were given hope, thinking that an end will finally be put to their suffering. They believed that the millions of pesos coming from their taxes would be used to protect communities, strengthen infrastructure, and prevent the rise of water in their neighborhoods. 

However, these are just once again empty promises disguised as lies from the government. The floods kept rising, the damage of calamities worsened. And, with every storm that comes, the lingering question grew louder–ano ang nangyari? Where did the money go? Where are the measures that were supposed to help the residents? Were these projects actually completed? If billions were spent to protect Bulakenyos from these disasters, why are thousands still forced to walk through floodwaters simply just to survive? 

Recently, Bulacan was declared in a state of calamity due to the widespread effects that the enhanced southwest monsoon and recent typhoons brought to the province. The waters rose, reaching almost 6 feet, and about 11,000 citizens were displaced. Yet, even during these times, residents continued to face these problems alone, with little to no help from the government. Crops lost, livelihoods ruined, properties gone, lives destroyed–government officials remain silent while their people, who they should be responsible for, continue to suffer. 

In a recent interview with Bulacan governor Daniel R. Fernando, it was revealed that a ₱40 billion budget was supposedly spent on different measures for flood control projects in the province. It was also stated that the same projects have been implemented by different government agencies from 2022-2025, however the governor explained that he was “unaware” of these expenditures, claiming that the Local Government Units of Bulacan (LGUs) had no association in the projects, as it was completely handled by national agencies. Hence, Bulakenyos raised a more concerning question; how can those entrusted with public funds be unaware of how it was spent on their own province? Ignorance is inexcusable, especially when innocent people are the ones forced to bear the consequences of their carelessness. This budget was allocated to minimize the effects of future calamities to citizens. But if billions were spent to prevent flooding in communities, then why does Bulacan continue to drown? 

This should not be a signal for citizens to just wait patiently for justice, but rather a stinging reminder to demand transparency. Every peso allocated to these projects are the same bills that citizens had to work hard for: every bill paid, every extra hour spent on work. It is only justifiable to return to the citizens what they deserve—truth, responsibility, and change. Every project needs to be inspected, and every unfinished or ineffective measure should be questioned.

For some, floods simply mean the rise of water level. But for others, it is a constant nightmare that diminishes everything they’ve worked hard for. It is not simply an inconvenience that goes away by time, but for millions of families it is a reminder of the unending cycle they are in–poverty, displacement, and uncertainty. And after each time, they are expected to just start over, again and again, like it is normal. But the truth is, rising back up gets harder each time, especially when you’re fighting the battle alone. Storms come and go, and floods will subside; that is beyond anyone’s control. But its impact is not always a matter of nature–most of the time it becomes a disguise for negligence. Natural disasters should never become an excuse for poor governance. The people of Bulacan, and Filipinos in general, should never have to suffer the consequences of recurring calamities, especially when there are measures that could have been done to prevent it. These effects can be minimized by proper planning and suitable projects. 

This was the importance of Kilos Bulacan. The people who marched through the floodwaters were simply not just activists, they were farmers with crops at risk, residents whose homes were flooded, students whose studies were being jeopardized. They stood as a constant reminder to the government: people are watching, and people are demanding. 

The recently held rally was not just a cry for attention, but it was a plea for accountability. It is a reminder that public outrage can become public pressure if we keep on challenging, demanding, and questioning those in power. How many more citizens have to suffer, how many more families need to evacuate before the government finally listens? How many more provinces have to drown, and how many more protesters have to march through murky floodwaters before accountability becomes more than just a promise? 

Bulakenyos are demanding to be heard. They do not need establishments that will just contribute to their suffering, what they need are clear answers. They deserve to know the truth; what happened to the supposed projects, where did the money go? But above it all, they deserve leaders who do not make promises they do not intend to keep. Until this isn’t achieved, do not let that spark of anger fade away–hold on to that fire. You have every right to ask them, again and again–kailan kayo mananagot?