Without our dean or any professional psychologist, our team of facilitators submerged again in the sea of children in San Remigio Evacuation Camp for another set of objectives and activities. The other group was still in Daanbantayan for their continuing volunteerism and was facilitated by our dean and MERCY Malaysia head. In San Remigio, there were only us—fewer than we expected, and more tired than we should be.
Today, we were all not recharged completely because our meeting last night ended late at 11:00 p.m., and we didn’t have a long rest this morning. Some facilitators, six of them, notified us that they couldn’t attend today because of prior commitments. And there were only eight of us left for sixty kids in the camp, which was too much for our bodies.
Still, we started this for the kids; hence, we shouldn’t be leaving them hanging without our presence.
Same thing first as usual—we checked the attendance of the kids to track the improvement or decline of their participation. There were only half of them by the time we started calling their names, gradually they arrived as the program flowed smoothly.
Then we had our brain-stimulating activities of physical stretching and Zumba. We played Girl in the Mirror, which is very iconic in every school exercise, and whenever we hear this song, we all know—if not all, at least some—the steps on every beat. Our next and last activity to stimulate the children’s minds was a Quiz Bowl. We did this yesterday, but this time, the trivia revolved around Filipino history and general knowledge to test the children’s literacy about our own nation. I guess this is a must—to ask children about their country so they will not be foreigners in their own land.
We then decided to have our series of play for entertainment, which was supposed to come after the Kumustahan session or processing. But since we were told to do it earlier, we had our playing session very soon.
Our games were familiar to the kids—games that are present in every school celebration and that they are accustomed to. For instance, we played reverse stop dance, where kids dance while the music is stopped and freeze when the music starts. We also had Bring Me, where kids are told to bring a specific thing the facilitator asks for. When the facilitator said, “Bring a handsome man,” the kids flocked to me and tried to bring me. LOL. We also had stop dance with chairs, where kids tried to secure seats when the music stopped, and those who couldn’t sit were eliminated. We also had paper dance and pass the ball. In simple words, the games we had earlier were all facilitated with music, except the Bring Me game.
These kids sat with me at the attendance table and played with me on the alphabet board.
The kids below six were still on their same business—playing with the toys, scribbling colors, drawing figures, and causing chaos among the facilitators as they stole each other’s toys. If the 7–12-year-olds are conscious but can resist our instructions, the below-sixes are egocentric, and we couldn’t intervene in that natural growth. So imagine how hard it is to facilitate kids below six and how chaotic it becomes when they share the same space.
Right after our games, we distributed snacks to the children as part of their water break and calming activity. Then we told them to breathe in and breathe out for minutes so there would be a transition for the next activity, which was reflection. It was a movement from high-energy activities to reflective ones.
So, in the start, I said this session is truer than yesterday’s because the children earlier told us some words we had been searching for since day one. The previous three days were all about building trust and connection with the kids, and the answers we got from them during those days were not reliably true. But today, they were truer and more confident than what I knew.
During the reflection, we had another pass the ball game but in a calmer way, where we just sat on the chairs and passed the ball gently. Whoever got caught when the music stopped shared three things he or she was grateful for today. They shared how grateful they were because of us—we brought light during their darkest days, gave them entertainment to redirect their attention away from this state of calamity, and offered understanding within the small tent of the Children Safe Space. The kids shared how grateful they were to be complete after the earthquake, that God intervened and led them to safety during the quake. They were even grateful for being able to eat three times a day in this state and for still breathing until now. Every answer of the children started with “I am thankful to the Lord,” implying their persevering faith in this tremendous time.
I expected they would just tell us the things they were grateful for, but they all added their prayers for us—that we could help more kids aside from them and bring light to their darkest moments. It was not a goodbye session, but it felt like a farewell. I got sad when we received news that tomorrow and the next day would be rest days and that we wouldn’t see the kids for two days. We informed them, and they got sad, so the false farewell turned into a real one.
They are truer today, expressing their sentiments about the quake that strucked lives in Northern Cebh but not dwelling on it. And perhaps that truth reflects what MERCY Malaysia stands for on this World Mental Health Day, prioritising mental health and psychosocial support for children survivors and communities affected by the calamity. Through the Child-Friendly Space in San Remigio and the Psychological First Aid sessions in Daanbantayan, we are not only facilitating play and reflection but also helping rebuild trust and resilience in young hearts. Indeed, what communities remember is not just that we came, but how we came with compassion, hope and shared humanity.