Jolter

Fake news once again reared its ugly head in the wake of the 5.5-magnitude earthquake that struck the province of Batangas and other parts of Luzon last Tuesday. Social media posts and text messages warned about a coming tsunami and advised people to flee as the tide was reportedly receding fast; another warning said the quake was related to volcanic activity — Mount Banahaw was supposedly about to erupt.

None of it was true, and the Philippine Institute of Volcanology and Seismology (Phivolcs) had to devote extra time to debunk the rumors, on top of keeping track of the temblor and its aftereffects.

The earthquake ripped through the breadth of Luzon: It was felt across Calabarzon, in Metro Manila, and as far down as Sorsogon, though at different intervals and in varying intensities. The epicenter was Tingloy, Batangas.

By Thursday, per Phivolcs monitoring, over 700 aftershocks had been recorded, and the Batangas provincial government had declared a state of calamity, with damage to infrastructure initially estimated at P18 million.

Among the structures damaged were the Batangas Provincial Capitol building and the historic Basilica of Saint Martin of Tours, parts of the facade of which crumbled and rained debris on the courtyard.

In Manila, the quake came right in the middle of a much-anticipated entertainment event: the concert of the foreign band Coldplay, which had drawn tens of thousands of concertgoers to the Mall of Asia open grounds. The event had choked up traffic in the southern part of the metro, but otherwise it was a humdrum weekday jolted by the tremor. It lit up social media, the preferred place to congregate, get updates and talk shop these days—fake news unfortunately included in the mix.

False alarms are absolutely unnecessary in times like this; the scenario itself is already quite scary, and people should not be stampeded into panicked actions by baseless, irresponsible reports that may only add to potential disorder in the aftermath of calamity.

Tuesday’s quake is another reminder that Metro Manila, home to a staggering 12-million-plus people, has a gargantuan task: to prepare itself for the Big One, a major earthquake that scientists anticipate may come soon because the West Valley Fault that runs through the region is ripe for movement.

By this time, the capital has seen the effects of recent powerful temblors. Bohol, in 2013, was struck by a 7.2-magnitude earthquake that killed 209 people and injured 877, toppled many structures including a number of centuries-old churches, and generated widespread damage estimated at P2.2 billion. Cebu, Siquijor, Negros Oriental and other parts of Visayas and Mindanao were also shaken; Cebu tallied 13 dead and 101 injured, plus the irreplaceable loss of the coral-stone belfry of the 18th-century Basilica Minore del Sto. Nino.

Last February, Surigao was also rattled by a 6.7-magnitude quake, resulting in at least 300 houses damaged, the local airport runway rendered unusable causing the cancellation of flights, and several collapsed bridges. Damage was estimated at P665 million.

Metro Manila is way denser and more complex an environment than these provinces, posing far greater challenges and risks to disaster management and emergency operations. Last year a metro-wide drill was conducted, aimed at raising awareness of basic safety precautions to keep in mind in case of a major earthquake. But the initiative, spearheaded by various government agencies, appeared to be a one-shot deal. No follow-up or sustained campaign has been heard since then.

A lackadaisical attitude to the possible Big One could be a grim scenario: Phivolcs says a Bohol-type 7.2-magnitude temblor in Metro Manila could flatten some 6,000 buildings and kill about 37,000 people. Is the government—and everyone else—taking note? That quake last Tuesday should jolt us in more ways than one.