After more than 160 years, what has changed?

Every September, with the month-long Fiesta, Naga changes. The streets become crowded. Familiar faces return. Vendors set up their stalls. Pilgrims arrive from different parts of Bicol and the country. The city prepares once again to welcome INA—Our Lady of Peñafrancia, the traditional Mother of the Catholic Church, deeply venerated by generations of Bicolanos since the Spanish colonial period.

On September 11, thousands will once again join the Traslacion, accompanying INA from the Basilica to the Metropolitan Cathedral. Nine days later, we will gather again for the Fluvial Procession, watching as she is carried home by boat along the Naga River. It is a beautiful tradition. It is faith alive and felt.

Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims come from all over the country in deep devotion. Families and friends from afar, hoping to touch INA’s image to ask for healing, comfort and protection. Like Manay Nita and the children who will once again position themselves at the pasimano of TinTin’s second-floor diner near the Naga Cathedral to catch a glimpse of INA on September 11. During the Fluvial Procession, they will find a familiar place near the Colgante Bridge, where generations of devotees have gathered to watch the procession pass.

During the Traslacion, classes are suspended. Almost every day throughout September, there are activities: Miss Gay Bicol, the marathon, civic parades, food and arts festivals, and the much-awaited Bicol Military Parade. There is fun, celebration and merrymaking throughout the month, with the nine-day Novena at the heart of it all.

But after more than 160 years of this tradition, I cannot help but ask a question that may be uncomfortable for some: What has really changed in the lives of the people who come to celebrate INA? Bicol has certainly changed. Naga has grown into a modern city since colonial times. Yet, despite all the development, we remain vulnerable to heavy rains, floods and earthquakes.

Look closely at the people in the crowds. Many still struggle to put food on the table three times a day. Fisherfolk continue to live uncertain lives. Farmers remain vulnerable to typhoons and changing weather. Families in flood-prone communities wait anxiously whenever heavy rains come. Workers struggle with low or irregular incomes. Patients line up early simply to get one of the few available free consultations because they cannot afford a private doctor. These are the same people who come to pray. They ask INA for healing, protection, livelihood and a better future for their children. And every year, we proudly call them resilient.

Resilience is admirable. But people should not have to be endlessly resilient because the systems around them have failed to give them a more secure life. After every typhoon, they rebuild. After every flood, they clean up. After every illness, they find a way to borrow money. After every economic setback, they start again. And then, every September, they return to INA. Perhaps this is where devotion must take us beyond the procession. If INA is truly the revered Mother, perhaps she also asks: What kind of children have the people become? Have we become more compassionate toward the poor? Have we become more honest in public service? Do we care enough about our rivers, forests and seas? Do we demand better healthcare, education, housing and livelihoods? Do we create enough opportunities for our young people to build a future here in Bicol?

Faith cannot solve every problem. But faith can move people to solve problems. A government official can choose integrity over corruption. A business leader can create decent jobs. A professional can use knowledge to serve those who cannot afford it. A university can educate not only for employment but also for service. And ordinary citizens can refuse to tolerate dishonesty simply because it benefits them. These, too, can be acts of devotion.

After more than 160 years, the question is not whether Bicolanos still believe. Obviously, Bicolanos do. Deeply. The question is: What has that faith made of us? And perhaps the more difficult question is: What has it made of our leaders? Of government? Faith should not be a blind excuse to accept everything that happens as simply fate. It should give us the courage to demand accountability from those who govern our lives.

But change cannot rest on leaders alone. The people also have responsibility. We cannot complain about corruption while rewarding or allowing corrupt leaders to continue governing badly. We cannot demand good governance while tolerating dishonesty when it serves our own interests. We cannot ask for change and then repeatedly choose the same practices and leaders that keep us where we are.

When INA finally returns home along the Naga River, perhaps the question is: What do we bring home with her? Another year of tradition and procession or another fiesta filled with sponsored events? Or a renewed commitment to change the lives of the people who have been praying all these years? Perhaps the miracle we have been waiting for is not for INA to change. Perhaps it is for policies to change, or for our leaders to change. Perhaps it is for the people to change the way we choose, tolerate and hold accountable those who lead us. Then perhaps—finally—we may begin to see the change we have been praying for.