“Uy, suspended! Salamat mayor!”

“Cuddle weather?”

“Hanggang Monday na sana.”

These are the phrases we often hear during the typhoon season. We refresh PAGASA’s page expecting updates, comment under LGUs to receive news, and repost memes that pray for suspension. But the ugly truth is, while others dance in the rain, others drown. Perhaps the real privilege isn’t the suspension; it’s having the luxury to celebrate it.

On August 8, several local government units suspended classes as the southwest monsoon continued to bring heavy rainfall across parts of the country. PAGASA issued heavy rainfall warnings in multiple areas, while authorities continued to monitor the risk of flooding and landslides. The Mines and Geosciences Bureau has identified at least 9,096 barangays at risk of rain-induced landslides and floods. The danger is unfolding in real time, with NDRRMC reporting six deaths linked to the combined effects of Typhoons Luis and Maymay and the southwest monsoon (ABS-CBN, 2026).

Somewhere along the way, we began treating class suspensions as rewards instead of reminders of danger. We celebrate the cancellation of classes without thinking about why it happened in the first place. Behind every “WALANG PASOK” announcement is a sign of crisis—roads become unsafe, rivers overflow, and families are forced to evacuate their homes. Just because we don’t see it in real time or experience it doesn't mean these aren't the nightmares others go through because of the rainfall. There is nothing wrong with feeling relieved about an unexpected day off, but there is something wrong when our excitement makes us forget the people who cannot afford to enjoy the same storm. A suspension may be a break from school for one student, but for another, it may be a day spent protecting what little they have left. A typhoon never falls equally; it only reveals the unequal lives beneath the same sky.

The rainy season is just beginning. Let us always remember to choose empathy for the less fortunate and be aware of what is happening in the real world. Instead of praying for suspensions, we should pray for the safety of the victims of the inclement weather. If you have the capacity to share your privilege, take the initiative to give donations to uplift those affected.

The next time you celebrate a class suspension, ask yourself, “Would I still be cheering if floodwaters were gushing through the front door?”. Typhoons are not holidays—they are disasters. Nothing is wrong with being thankful for a rest day, but let’s remember what we should appreciate more: having a dry roof over our heads amidst the storm.

The Frontman