I normally avoid engaging with cyber trolls and self appointed cyber rebels who thrive more on noise than substance, because too often these conversations turn into performance rather than progress. Social media has made it easy for people to reduce serious issues into quick reactions, emotional defenses, and personal attacks instead of honest reflection. I have always believed that service matters more than spectacle and that real work is done in communities, not in comment sections. But there comes a point when silence is mistaken for surrender, and allowing misinformation to stand unchallenged becomes its own form of negligence.
What compelled me to respond was not pride, ego, or a desire to win arguments online. It was the dangerous normalization of failure disguised as resilience. Too many people have confused the extraordinary strength of our people with an excuse for institutional weakness. Yes, our people are strong. Yes, we help each other. Yes, Aramasasch me Taotao Marianas have always survived because we know how to lean on one another in times of hardship. But that strength should never be weaponized to lower the standard of what government is supposed to do.
My Op-Ed was never an attack on first responders, nurses, police officers, CUC workers, CHCC staff, or the countless public servants who were on the ground doing everything they could under impossible circumstances. In many cases, they are the very people carrying the burden of broken systems. My criticism was directed where it belongs, at leadership, preparedness, coordination, and accountability. There is a difference between hardworking employees and institutional competence. Praising one does not excuse the absence of the other.
Government is not charity. It is not symbolic. It is not something we praise simply for existing. Government carries fiduciary duties, legal obligations, and public trust responsibilities. In the CNMI, this responsibility is even more pronounced because we operate under constant federal scrutiny tied to FEMA, Homeland Security, disaster mitigation grants, emergency management compliance, and federal recovery funding. Emergency operations plans, continuity of government protocols, shelter systems, fuel distribution, communication hotlines, and coordinated disaster response structures are not optional ideas. They are the minimum expectation of governance.
When a Category 5 typhoon strikes and families are left wondering where to find water, where to charge medical devices, where functioning shelters are located, how elders and vulnerable communities are being accounted for, or why relatives thousands of miles away are organizing faster than official channels, people have every right to ask questions. That is not negativity. That is accountability. Community solidarity is beautiful, but it should never be used to excuse government failure. Yes and I’ll say it again, and again, until we do better.
Some asked, “What do you expect government to do, everything?” No. Just the things only government can do. No family fundraiser can restore islandwide infrastructure. No church group can coordinate federal emergency declarations. No neighborhood volunteer can manage FEMA compliance, fuel security, port operations, hospital continuity, or military logistics. That is precisely why governments exist. That is why leaders campaign for office. That is why taxpayers fund institutions.
The phrase “we are the government” is often used to blur responsibility upward. Citizens are not the ones entrusted with appropriated budgets, executive authority, emergency declarations, and federal reporting obligations. Officials are. That is why public office is called public service. To ask what they were elected to do is not disrespect. It is the most basic form of democratic accountability.
After Soudelor, after Yutu, and now after Sinlaku, we should not still be having the same conversations with the same excuses. At some point, repeated disaster without meaningful structural improvement stops being unfortunate and starts becoming policy failure. The people deserve more than survival. They deserve competent systems, transparent leadership, and a government that functions before, during, and after crisis.
Is this really what we will expect and settle for the next time a typhoon hits?
I felt compelled to speak because too often in our islands, criticism is treated as betrayal and silence is rewarded as loyalty. I reject that. Loving our people means demanding better for them. Supporting our community means refusing to normalize preventable suffering. Gratitude and accountability can exist together. We can honor the people who showed up while still demanding better from the systems that should have been ready long before the storm arrived.
That is not negativity.
That is responsibility.
By: Gregorie Michael Towai (Eipéráng)
https://orcid.org/0009-0002-3004-8972 is a cultural advocate and independent researcher from the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands currently residing in Oregon. He writes on Pacific governance, ocean policy, and diaspora political participation.