At exactly 10 p.m., when many Cebuano families were preparing to rest for the night, the ground suddenly shook. Walls rattled, furniture swayed, and residents spilled into the streets, some barefoot, clutching their children as they tried to make sense of the darkness filled with fear.
The recent Cebu earthquake, though not as strong as the dreaded “Big One,” was enough to remind Filipinos of the country’s constant vulnerability to powerful seismic events. For many, it felt like a preview of what experts have been warning Metro Manila about for years.
According to the Philippine Institute of Volcanology and Seismology (PHIVOLCS), the Big One could reach magnitude 7.8 if the 100-kilometer West Valley Fault, which runs through the capital, slips again. The fault moves every 200 to 400 years; its last major movement was recorded in 1658, making it long overdue.
The projected impact is staggering: an estimated 51,500 deaths, with 33,500 directly from the quake and another 18,000 from ensuing fires. Some 100,000 people may be injured. Around 12–13% of residential buildings could collapse, 11% of mid-rise structures may suffer heavy damage, and even 2% of high-rise buildings might not withstand the shaking.
Metro Manila—the nation’s capital, economic heart, and most crowded region—faces the greatest risk. Unlike Cebu, where residents still have open spaces to run to, millions in the capital may find themselves trapped in tightly packed communities, with fires, blocked roads, and widespread panic compounding the tragedy.
Authorities and experts insist that preparedness is the only shield. Earthquake drills, structural retrofitting, family go-bags, and community response plans could spell the difference between survival and catastrophe.
For now, the Cebu quake stands as a chilling wake-up call. It showed how even a late-night tremor can scatter families in fear. And if that was enough to rattle one city, one can only imagine how Metro Manila will face “The Big One”.