* Any views expressed in this opinion piece are those of the author and not of Thomson Reuters Foundation.
In coastal villages worst hit during the superstorm, displaced families - in absence of viable relocation sites - have rebuilt in same spots they occupied before Haiyan
Three years after Typhoon Haiyan, the challenge to resettle families displaced by the powerful storm continues.
It has been three years since Typhoon Haiyan, the most powerful storm to have ever made landfall, lashed central Philippines, claiming around 6,300 lives and leaving more than 4.4 million people displaced and homeless, most of them from Tacloban City, the regional economic hub of Eastern Visayas.
As I touched down in Tacloban for what felt like the nth time this past month, and travelled through its main streets, I was newly struck by how unremarkable it all looks today compared to the total devastation of three years ago. Most buildings and roads have been repaired, the sidewalks are bustling with urban activity, and business is booming, if one judges by the new establishments that have popped up on almost every corner. The city, it would appear, has gotten back on its feet.
Yet, just outside downtown Tacloban, in the coastal villages that suffered the most from the deadly storm surges that Typhoon Haiyan triggered, thousands of displaced families are still in limbo, waiting to know whether they can be relocated to safer areas or if they should carry on as they are, barely making a living in these ‘danger zones’.
Since Typhoon Haiyan decimated Tacloban’s coastal villages, the city government has classified all areas located less than 40 meters from the coast as ‘danger zones’ because they are prone to flooding and deadly storm surges.
In a bid to avoid another catastrophe, typhoon survivors have been discouraged from moving back to such areas. But in the absence of any viable relocation site, thousands of displaced families have rebuilt their makeshift homes on almost the exact same spots they occupied before Typhoon Haiyan washed them all away, even if they have no legal ownership over those lands.
In my visits to the coastal villages of Barangay (village, in Filipino) 83-A and 102, together with Oxfam and local partner NGOs for Fisheries Reform (NFR), I met groups of women, who made it clear that, despite fully knowing the risks of living in ‘danger zones’, they and their families have opted to stay after being offered an untenable choice: safe housing or access to clean water and opportunities to make a living.
In Barangay 83-A, women who make a living by gathering fresh clams in Burayan River. They sell these in the market for around 40 pesos (US$0.80) a kilo. On a good day, they can gather up to 10 kilos, giving them enough to feed their families. But when it rains or there simply are not enough clams, they rely on their husbands, who are mostly employed as contractual construction workers or pedicab (cycle rickshaws) and tricycle drivers in downtown Tacloban, and earn below the daily minimum wage of 260 pesos (US$ 5.30).
In Barangay 102, a fishing village located only 3 kilometres from the resettlement sites, women still opted not to relocate with their families in fear of the consequences of losing their access to the bodies of water that provide them and their husbands with much-needed income.
To women like Iline Bonguet, 45, moving meant giving up her privilege to be able to fish in the area and competing with host communities in resettlement areas for basic resources like water.
Meanwhile, for families that did move to resettlement sites, the struggle has been very real.
Saleha Badidles, 51, moved from Barangay 83-A to a resettlement site called “SM Cares Village” in north Tacloban with her one daughter in May 2016. She told me she and other residents have been regretting their decision after experiencing the shortage of clean water and jobs in the area. According to Saleha, they’re lucky if they can take a bath twice a week.
Sadly, Saleha or other women in SM Cares Village could no longer return to Barangay 83-A because they’ve demolished their temporary shelters as part of the contract they had to sign before relocating.
At another resettlement site called Villa Sofia, I met Romulo and Nenita Nerja, both originally from Barangay 102. They agreed to be relocated in January 2016, but since then, they have experienced not only a scarcity of water, but also problems with access to electricity, leaking pipes and roofs that let water in when it rains.
Memorably, Romulo told me: “We have made complaints to the Village Council and the City Housing Office. They tell us they are doing their best but it’s been nearly a year and we still don’t know what will happen. In a way, this still feels like a ‘danger zone.’”
Indeed, as the national and city government, in partnership with different NGOs,continue to look for “durable solutions” to take Haiyan-affected families out of classified danger zones, there should be a clear consensus that having a relatively sturdy structure to relocate to is not enough. People should have, at the minimum, access to clean water and other basic utilities. Better yet, opportunities for them to make a decent living for their families should be available in resettlement areas.
Without these, as Romulo put it, families could just be moving from one ‘danger zone’ to another.
*Airah Cadiogan is Climate Policy and Campaigns Officer for Oxfam in the Philippines. To read more about the pursuit of durable solutions to displacement in Tacloban City, please see these documents.
