One photo that captures tenderness amid chaos in the Philippines as Typhoon Fung-wong hits

In the face of Super Typhoon Fung-wong, the most powerful storm to threaten the Philippines this year, more than a million residents have evacuated their homes, seeking refuge in emergency shelters across affected regions.

Among them are Judy and Apollo Bertuso, who found sanctuary in a basketball court shelter in Quezon City. Inside a bright orange tent, Judy, 63, carefully feeds porridge to her 65-year-old husband, who is recovering from a stroke. Despite the chaotic environment, her movements remain deliberate and tender as she cares for her frail spouse.

“We couldn’t risk staying,” Judy explains, recalling how their creekside home was inundated during heavy rains just a month earlier in October. When warnings about Fung-wong began circulating through radio and television broadcasts, the couple didn’t hesitate to evacuate.

The Bertusos represent just one story among thousands as Super Typhoon Fung-wong unleashed winds of up to 185 kilometers per hour (115 mph) with gusts reaching 230 kph (143 mph) across the country’s northeastern regions on Sunday.

The Philippine Atmospheric, Geophysical and Astronomical Services Administration (PAGASA) classified Fung-wong as a super typhoon—the highest category in their warning system—prompting authorities to implement mandatory evacuations in coastal and low-lying communities across multiple provinces.

Inside the basketball court shelter, dozens of displaced families occupy rows of identical bright tents. The howling wind outside creates an ominous backdrop to the quiet conversations and children’s play that fill the temporary refuge.

“This is the third time we’ve evacuated this year,” says Ramon Diaz, a 45-year-old fisherman sharing a nearby tent with his family of five. “Each time, it gets harder to rebuild.”

The Philippines, an archipelago of more than 7,100 islands, sits along the Pacific Ring of Fire and the typhoon belt, making it one of the world’s most disaster-prone countries. On average, about 20 typhoons strike the nation annually, with several causing significant damage and casualties.

Climate experts note that while the frequency of typhoons hasn’t necessarily increased in recent years, their intensity has—a trend consistent with climate change predictions. Dr. Maria Santos, a climatologist at the University of the Philippines, explains that warming ocean temperatures provide more energy for storms to intensify rapidly.

“What we’re seeing with Fung-wong is consistent with climate models that predict more powerful typhoons,” Santos says. “The rapid intensification we observed just before landfall is particularly concerning.”

Government officials report that more than 1,200 evacuation centers have been established across potentially affected regions, housing approximately 1.2 million evacuees. The Department of Social Welfare and Development has deployed emergency response teams and distributed food packs to these centers.

For many like the Bertusos, the economic impact of repeated displacements compounds their struggle. Apollo’s medical needs for stroke recovery require regular treatment, now interrupted by the evacuation.

“His medication, his therapy—everything gets disrupted,” Judy sighs, adjusting a thin blanket over her husband’s legs. “But we’re alive, and that’s what matters most right now.”

Local government units have implemented preparedness measures, including pre-emptive evacuations, suspension of classes and government work, and deployment of search and rescue teams in high-risk areas. The Philippine Coast Guard temporarily halted sea travel in affected regions, stranding hundreds of passengers in ports across the eastern seaboard.

Despite these challenges, scenes of resilience and community support emerge throughout evacuation centers. Volunteers distribute hot meals, while medical teams conduct regular health checks for vulnerable evacuees. Children gather in designated spaces for supervised activities, temporarily distracting them from the uncertainty of their situation.

As night falls on the basketball court shelter, families prepare for sleep amid the storm’s continued assault. Judy Bertuso makes final adjustments to Apollo’s makeshift bed, her care unwavering despite their displacement.

“Tomorrow will come,” she says quietly, “and we’ll face it together.”