After the Floods: How Agoncillo families are rebuilding—and adapting—after tropical storm Kristine

About 120 kilometers south of Manila, in the upland interior of Agoncillo, Batangas, dozens of families displaced by Tropical Storm Kristine are beginning a new chapter—this time on safer ground, far from the hazards that once defined their daily lives.

On the morning of December 19, 2025, emotion filled Barangay Pamiga as 22 families received the keys to their new homes during a housing turnover ceremony. Among them was Lourdes Laurel, 60, who could not hold back tears as she stood beside her husband, Porferio.

For the first time since Kristine swept away their house, the couple had a permanent place to call home.

“We lost everything—only our clothes were left,” Laurel said, her voice shaking. “We never imagined the water could rise higher than a person. I’m just thankful my husband survived.”

Their former community in Barangay Bilibinwang was long considered safe from floods. That belief was shattered when raging waters, mixed with mud and debris, tore through the area. Like many others, the Laurels spent more than a year living in an evacuation center in Barangay Pansipit before being relocated uphill.

The Pamiga housing project—implemented through a partnership between the Municipality of Agoncillo and the Gawad Kalinga Foundation—will eventually provide 60 units. Another 38 homes are set for completion by the first quarter of 2026. Built on a 1.1-hectare government-owned hillside, the two-storey loft-style houses are intentionally located away from flood channels and landslide-prone zones.

More than shelter, the project reflects a growing shift toward climate-adaptive development: relocating families to safer areas while allowing them to continue livelihoods elsewhere.

A storm defined by duration, not wind

Kristine was not remarkable for its wind strength. What made it deadly was time.

Batangas endured nearly three days of rainfall even before the storm reached its peak. Kristine entered the Philippine Area of Responsibility on October 22, 2024, but its trough had already been dumping rain across CALABARZON, saturating the ground.

When the storm made landfall in Isabela on October 23 and traversed northern Luzon, rainfall continued to affect western Luzon watersheds draining toward Batangas. Even after Kristine exited the country on October 25, heavy rain persisted.

By then, the ground—especially around Taal Volcano—could absorb no more.

According to the Provincial Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Office, Kristine displaced more than 27,000 families in Batangas, killed 54 people, and caused ₱2.95 billion in damage. Agriculture bore the brunt, with losses exceeding ₱1.1 billion.

When rain meets volcanic terrain

Rainfall totals reached extraordinary levels, with some areas recording over 600 millimeters. Batangas alone logged around 390 millimeters—comparable to Tropical Storm Ondoy in 2009.

But unlike Ondoy, Kristine’s rainfall was spread over several days and interacted with volcanic ash and lahar deposits left by Taal’s 2020 eruption. Studies by the UP Resilience Institute and Project NOAH showed that prolonged saturation destabilized these materials, triggering mudflows, flash floods, and landslides in areas never before considered high-risk.

“This was not a normal flood,” said Junfrance De Villa of the Agoncillo MDRRMO. “The water carved new paths through communities.”

In Talisay, Barangay Sampaloc suffered the worst tragedy when a sudden landslide buried homes and killed 21 people within minutes. Residents said there were no warning signs.

“With a volcano, you can see the danger,” one survivor said. “With floods, you don’t.”

Communication breakdowns compounded the disaster, as cellphone signals failed and warnings could not reach residents in time.

Communities adapt from the ground up

In the aftermath, local governments and residents have begun reshaping how they prepare for disasters.

Agoncillo installed a hyperlocal rain gauge in Barangay Bangin to track cumulative rainfall—recognizing that soil saturation over days, not just hourly rainfall, determines risk in volcanic areas. All 21 barangays have also been equipped with two-way radios to maintain communication when networks fail.

At the household level, residents in hard-hit barangays have reinforced homes with sandbags and concrete barriers—small but vital steps toward resilience.

These efforts echo global findings cited by UN Secretary-General António Guterres: early warning systems can reduce disaster damage by up to 30 percent and deliver returns many times their cost.

A lesson beyond Batangas

The Philippines has 24 active volcanoes, many surrounded by communities prepared for eruptions but not for compound hazards driven by climate change.

What happened around Taal highlights a critical lesson for volcanic regions worldwide—from Indonesia to Central America and East Africa: extreme rainfall can activate hidden dangers, turning “safe” areas deadly.

Planned relocation, community-level monitoring, reliable communication, and clear risk messaging are no longer optional—they are essential.

A safer place to sleep, a future to rebuild

As families in Pamiga shared food after the house blessing, Christmas songs played softly in the background—echoes of past recoveries and renewed hope.

Mayor Cindy Valenton-Reyes continues to urge residents in flood-prone zones to relocate, framing the move as adaptation rather than loss: work where livelihoods exist, but rest where it is safe.

For Lourdes Laurel, the meaning is simple.

“This house is our second chance,” she said.

As climate change accelerates, Kristine stands as a warning: the most dangerous disasters may not come from unfamiliar threats, but from familiar ones colliding in new ways.

In a changing climate, yesterday’s safety offers no guarantee for tomorrow.
Adaptation is no longer a choice—it is survival.

Note: This story was produced with support from Internews’ Earth Journalism Network