Just when I thought a full month of relentless rain and indoor leaks was miserable enough, the situation worsened last Saturday. The water levels rose sharply, leaving our entire village submerged. This continuous, intense rainfall is exhausting, and the high tide has only amplified the crisis. We are now on our third day of enduring this. During every heavy downpour, I find myself praying constantly for the skies to clear. It is a profoundly helpless feeling—one where you have nothing left to do but lean on your faith. Right now, all we are hoping for is a prolonged break from the rain and for the floodwaters to finally recede. Recovery will likely be a slow process, but any progress is better than remaining trapped in this hardship.
The downpour at dawn was brutal, offering no hope for improvement. True enough, the water crept higher this morning, making a trip downstairs an absolute ordeal. I am incredibly grateful to my brother, who braved the weather to buy our essentials. He picked up my prescribed Doxycycline to protect against leptospirosis, along with a pair of waders so I can finally move around through the deep water.
