“Turning a Calamity Into a Game”:
Aid, Spectacle, and the Crisis of Public Service
In the aftermath of days of torrential rains and widespread flooding, the town of Calumpit in Bulacan, Philippines, was placed under a state of calamity. Families waded through waist-high waters. Homes were submerged. Livelihoods, once modest, were now washed out.
And then came the post.
On Wednesday, Calumpit Mayor Lem Faustino launched a flood-relief initiative on Facebook encouraging residents to upload photos of themselves — along with their families — inside their waterlogged homes. The reward? A chance to win digital cash aid through a raffle draw conducted live on social media.
The backlash was immediate and scathing.
The initiative, dubbed “E-Ayuda ni Mayor Lem,” was presented as a gesture of solidarity and family unity amid disaster. “Through this,” the post read in Filipino, “we show how Calumpiteños, by staying together as a family, can rise together from this calamity.”
But critics saw something else entirely — a disturbing transformation of disaster relief into performance. A calamity turned into a contest. Public service recast as a public show.
Digital Aid or Digital Spectacle?
By the time the raffle was set to go live, the post had amassed over 20,000 reactions and 9,000 shares. But the sentiment in the comment section turned rapidly. Many questioned the ethics of asking flood victims to publicly post photos — including GCash numbers — on a public forum.
“This is distasteful and also a privacy breach concern. GCash number? Really? On a public post/domain?” said one user.
Another questioned the security risks: “Does the mayor not know that posting personal numbers in comment sections makes people prone to scams?”
Others were more direct.
“Taxes, now raffled off like prizes.”
“More likes, more chances of winning, Madam Mayor?”
“People are soaked to the bone, and you’re asking for selfies?”
For residents already stripped of their possessions and privacy by the floods, the requirement to perform their suffering publicly — for the slim chance of aid — struck many as cruel and degrading.
A Game Show State of Emergency
One comment captured the outrage succinctly:
“These are people trying to survive a catastrophe, not circus animals to be paraded for entertainment.”
It is a striking indictment of how the line between governance and spectacle has blurred. In the age of digital virality, even state responses to natural disasters are now at risk of being gamified — prioritizing optics over dignity, engagement over empathy.
Calumpit was under a state of calamity. The expectation was immediate, equitable relief — not a lottery.
Damage Control, After the Fact
Later that evening, Mayor Faustino appeared on Facebook Live to clarify. She insisted the e-ayuda was merely one part of the local government’s relief efforts, which included door-to-door aid distribution. She also walked back the raffle format, stating that all who posted photos during the specified hours would now receive aid.
“This is just one method,” she explained. “Everyone who posted will get help through GCash.”
But by then, the damage had been done — not only to public trust, but to the image of what public service should look like in a crisis.
The justification offered — that photos would help verify who was most affected — rang hollow for many. Isn’t that what barangay assessments and local officials are for? Why was the burden of proof placed on already-displaced families, many of whom may not even have access to smartphones or stable internet?
Relief Should Not Be a Performance
This episode in Calumpit raises uncomfortable questions for any democratic society. If digital participation is becoming a requirement for state assistance, who gets left behind? And when disaster response is staged for likes and shares, where does the spectacle end and the real service begin?
It is one thing for citizens to come together online to support each other. It is another thing entirely for a government to condition aid on a social media submission — no matter how well-meaning the intent.
What happened in Calumpit is not just a communications misstep. It is a symptom of a deeper rot: a growing willingness to make dignity conditional, to treat human need as content, and to let relief hinge on visibility.
When survival becomes a competition, governance has already failed.
Calamity is not a contest.
Public service is not a performance.
And the people deserve better than to be asked to smile for help.