Rain sometimes bursts through the door instead of knocking. In response to the ongoing effects of Tropical Storm Basyang, local government units in many parts of the Philippines announced widespread class suspensions in early February. It wasn’t just a little drizzle. It was the type of weather that required careful consideration, forethought, and difficult choices.
| Item | Details |
|---|---|
| Event | Class suspensions across multiple provinces |
| Trigger | Shear line rains, Tropical Storm Basyang |
| Affected Regions | Bicol Region, Visayas, Mindanao, Eastern Luzon |
| Class Suspension Dates | February 5–9, 2026 (varies by location) |
| Modalities Used | Shift to modular or online learning in many LGUs |
| Levels Affected | All levels (public and private), including preschool to senior high |
| Additional Closures | Government work suspended in some areas except for essential services |
| External Source | GMA News |
Whole municipalities in Camarines Norte switched from using chalkboards in classrooms to using WhatsApp groups and printed modules. The news was made barely in time for families in Davao City to change childcare or transportation arrangements. The swiftness and gravity of the actions executed were quite comparable in all of these locations. Local authorities made snap decisions, sometimes before nightfall, based on real-time satellite data and historical storm trends.
Class suspensions, which are frequently grouped together under the well-known moniker “Walang Pasok,” are now more than just a warning. It is a pulse of society. A red flag. And a short but necessary break for many. Teachers reproducing textbooks, emergency officers turning schools into evacuation centers, and parents rearranging work schedules are just a few examples of the silent labor that goes on beneath the notifications.
Localities like as Bohol, Cebu, and Iligan City suspended both public and private institutions for a number of days across Visayas and Mindanao. In other towns, the break was extended to local government offices. These choices demonstrated an increasing confidence in localized risk assessment and were very successful in lowering exposure under unpredictable weather.
I recall a previous storm when school was canceled late; it had the same name but was just as intense. By midday, the street outside our Tacloban apartment was flooded. Parents had to come back in the middle of their shift to pick up their drenched kids. Things went differently this time. Social media groups and radio cautions helped to disseminate updates early. Students and their households are affected by the notable improvement in coordination between disaster offices and DepEd divisions.
“Walang Pasok” might be romanticized as a childhood delight—a day off to sleep in and watch TV without interruption. Others, however, incur invisible costs as a result. A school day offers structure, food, and child safety to a lot of families. Predictability vanishes when that does. Campus-area vendors lose money. Drivers of jeepneys carry less people. There is a real ripple.
But something is changing. Schools are avoiding complete academic stagnation by utilizing integrated and modular learning strategies. Modular packs were already dispersed in advance in places like Pamplona and Naga City, reducing disturbance. Despite its flaws, this approach is very adaptable and enables learning to take place in barangay halls, residences, and even evacuation shelters.
Communities react with a certain calm resilience. No fanfare. Worksheets are being sealed in plastic by a mother. A teacher uses group conversations to keep students informed. At daybreak, barangay officials check the levels of the river. These modest actions create a barrier against uncertainty as well as storms.
The decentralized form of suspension notifications presents both an advantage and a disadvantage from a policy perspective. Some support national regulations, possibly even weather threshold-based predictive triggers. However, the current paradigm, which is based on local discretion, for adaptable choices that take memory, infrastructure, and geography into consideration. After all, the mayor and locals are the ones who are most familiar with a town’s flood zones.
The majority of LGUs made sure that information reached even the most remote villages through strategic communication. A lot of people used SMS chains and Viber. Others use church loudspeakers to communicate updates. Despite time constraints, the endeavor to reach every family was extremely effective.
This time, the change in terminology was very noticeable. “Modular learning in effect,” “government work suspended except frontline services,” and “skeleton workforce activated” were all part of it, and it wasn’t only “Walang Pasok.” By recalibrating education rather than merely pausing it, these sentences demonstrate a more mature response.
Teachers were able to prevent fear by introducing alternate modes early. That is especially advantageous for areas that are subject to annual disturbances. And the nation’s unsung strength may be its ability to adapt, which has been refined during years of typhoons, earthquakes, and even pandemics.
There is, of course, space for improvement. There is still inequality in access to distant learning resources. There is little internet infrastructure in rural Agusan del Sur or Catanduanes, and parents may find it difficult to support their children’s education at home. However, their communal grit makes up for their frequent bandwidth shortage.
Families learnt to improvise throughout the pandemic: using printed materials for instruction, huddled beneath a single lightbulb, and sharing a single phone for several children. These behaviors that were developed in times of crisis are now being used again in times of adversity. Although the system isn’t perfect, it’s working pretty well given its size.
A national collection of offline-accessible modular resources could be useful in the years to come. In this manner, learning continuity becomes more feasible even in the absence of connectedness. We can future-proof the education sector for upcoming seasons by investing in these tools today.
The lessons learned from this week’s class suspensions may not make the news by Monday of next week. Prioritizing safety early on not only saves lives but also preserves education. Credit should be given to local leaders, educators, and families for not only canceling classes but also for rethinking how learning may continue even in the face of disruption.
