Don’t let the deceptively cute and imaginative names fool you. Super Lolo, Atomic Triangle, Goodbye Philippines, Bin Laden, Large Judas Belt, Lolo Thunder, Mother Rockets, Pla-pla, Piccolo—these deadly firecrackers can maim for life.
There is enough gunpowder in these illegal crackers, and a particularly short fuse that could make them explode in lessthan three seconds, that blows off fingers and amputate limbs, disfiguring victims—in this country, mostly children below 15 years old—for life.
Not exactly the best way to welcome a new year, is it?
And yet, despite the obvious hazard and the zeal of the Philippine National Police and the Department of Health in warning Filipinos against the use of these lethal playthings, Filipinos eager to supposedly drive away evil spirits and welcome the New Year with a bang still take the risk by lighting up.
Fortunately, the number of such foolhardy Filipinos has been declining significantly since 2015. DOH data showed that in that year, 932 injuries were recorded in the department’s yearly Fireworks-Related Injury Surveillance, which runs from Dec. 21 to Jan. 5. Of these, 920 were due to firecrackers, and 10 were traced to stray bullets. Of two people who ingested firecrackers, one died.
The number dropped by a hefty 32 percent to just 630 in 2016, at the start of the administration of President Duterte, who had banned the sale of firecrackers in Davao City as early as 2001 when he was still mayor.
Mr. Duterte stepped up his war against firecrackers on June 20, 2017, when he issued Executive Order No. 28, providing for stricter regulation and control of the use of firecrackers and other pyrotechnic devices. The President’s strict stance is clearly being heard, as firecracker-related injuries went down to 463 in 2017—all fireworks-related and none caused by stray bullets—and to just 40 so far this year, as of Dec. 28.
Most of the injuries do happen on Dec. 31, thus the heightened alert of the PNP, and hospitals across the country well-primed by now for what has become the annual ritual of treating unheedful children and adults, who end up spending the first hours of the New Year crying, writhing in pain, and cradling their bloody fingers.
While the downward trend in firecracker-related injuries is encouraging, the country is still far from zero, which is where the Philippines should want to register, as no New Year celebration is worth one’s physical disfigurement for life, not to mention the needless hospital costs. This year, the first victim was a 12-year-old boy from Nueva Ecija whose left middle finger was amputated following a blast injury caused by an illegal 5-Star firecracker that he lit in his home. More children like him will likely follow before the world says goodbye to 2018.
People who still want to make some noise need not fret; there are, in fact, legal firecrackers and pyrotechnics, reminded the PNP Firearms and Explosives Office, which has issued a list. The crackers have cute names, too: Bawang, Baby Rocket, El Diablo, Butterfly, Mabuhay and Fountain, among them.
Better still, why not save money on firecrackers altogether and use alternative noise-makers as suggested by the DOH? Good old empty cans, pots and pans, loud music, car horns—these should make for a sufficient barrage, enough noise for family and neighborhood revelry, without endangering life or limb. Staying safe, secure, healthy and injury free is the best way to welcome the New Year.