When disaster strikes, we expect stories of fear, loss and despair. In northern Cebu, after the devastating 6.9-magnitude quake, I witnessed something far deeper — a testament to human resilience, devotion and extraordinary service.

I travelled to Bogo City and San Remigio municipality to check on the staff and clients of a microfinance network I am associated with. Along the highway, I saw families living in makeshift tents, terrified to return to their damaged homes. Many people were traumatized, unable to sleep and constantly alert for aftershocks. The earthquake had not only destroyed property — it disrupted lives and disturbed peace of mind.

But amidst that devastation, I found hope.

The microfinance offices in Cebu did not escape damage. Walls cracked, ceilings fell, documents were scattered. Yet despite their own fears and losses, staff kept reporting for duty. They slept in damaged offices — some under sturdy tables, others near doors and exits — always ready to run outside when aftershocks came. The staff barely slept, yet they continued to serve. They visited clients, distributed relief goods, facilitated loan releases, and helped families restart livelihoods.

The insurance team was also on the ground, validating claims for damaged homes so that our clients could immediately receive the benefits of their microinsurance plans. Amidst the disaster, the spirit of microfinance shone through: serving the poor with dignity and compassion — helping rebuild their lives.

Two account officers,Jocelyn Burlaos and PiaRaven, met with an accident while travelling by motorcycle to reach clients after the quake — the road had cracked and their motorcycle skidded. Pia still winces with pain in her left ribs, while Jocelyn bore scratches on her arms and legs. I urged them to see a doctor, but their answer humbled me deeply:

“Sir, after this week na lang po. We need to finish the loan releases first. Our clients are waiting.”

Even while in pain, they chose to serve. This is not just work — this is a mission.

Another staff member, Unit Manager Jay Ann Estenzo, shared how she and her staff slept under office tables each night because there were still aftershocks. Between 2-3 a.m., they had to run outside in fear because the ground started shaking. Their lives were unsettled, yet, every morning, they still returned to work.

What moved me even more was seeing clients visit the office to pay their amortizations despite suffering losses. I asked one of them, “Why are you still paying now, when the earthquake has adversely affected your business?”

Her answer was simple—but powerful:

“Disiplina po ito. Dahil ipinangako namin na babayaran namin ang aming inutang (This is credit discipline. Because we promised that we will repay what we borrowed).”

Even in a crisis, they honored their word. This is integrity.

Just as the MFI teams were responding in Cebu, other parts of the country were hit too. In Davao Oriental, two strong earthquakes also struck, causing further casualties and displacement. Once again, MFI staff and clients were among the first responders — visiting affected members, checking on safety, and validating claims for damaged homes and lives lost. Before the government and other responders arrived, microfinance was already there — because we are part of the communities we serve.

At the national level, the government activated emergency funds and urged faster response. Government Quick Response Funds were released, while different agencies provided additional resources to assist displaced families and rehabilitate affected infrastructure. These actions show how crucial preparedness and coordinated recovery remain in a disaster-prone country like ours.

From Cebu’s cracked roads and trembling nights, we take with us vital lessons. First, that preparedness is not just about systems — it is about people. When institutions nurture compassion, discipline, and shared responsibility, communities respond faster and recover stronger. Microfinance institutions, through their deep local presence, prove once again that financial inclusion is also social inclusion.

Second, true resilience is relational. The clients’ discipline, staff’s devotion, and partners’ quick response all affirm that recovery is never a solo act — it is a collective strength. In moments of chaos, it is solidarity that steadies us.

What I saw in Cebu is more than relief work. It is a living example of devotion and commitment — from staff who risk their safety to serve others, and from clients who stand with dignity even in hardship. In moments like these, I am reminded why we do what we do: we do not just provide loans or insurance, but uplift lives with compassion, courage, and hope.

Disasters may shake the ground — but they can never shake the spirit of people who choose to serve.

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“The greatness of humanity is not in being human, but in being humane.” — Mahatma Gandhi