WHEN a five-year-old girl and a 29-year-old man were struck down by a rogue SUV at NAIA Terminal 1, it was not just a car crash — it was a verdict on our public safety.
We like to believe that simple fixtures — a bollard here, a railing there — stand between life and ruin. As a civil engineer who had to go into overdrive the traffic and highway safety and design course, I can say with confidence that the recent smashed metal and shattered glass at the Ninoy Aquino International Airport laid bare a harsh truth: in our country, substandard infrastructure is killing us, one unnoticed corner-cut at a time.
I still recall the thud of that SUV from my Facebook feed as if I had been there. Everyone saw and heard that awful, albeit imagined, crescendo of screeching tires and cracking steel that jolted the entire departure area. Phones whipped out; livestreams and frantic messages pinged.
Within minutes, images of a marred bollard and crumpled bodies circulated faster than any airport announcement. In that instant, the bollard — meant to absorb force, to slow down a wayward vehicle — did nothing.
In the scene I saw on social media, one father — an overseas Filipino worker — collapsing to his knees near his daughter’s place of death, crying out on the cold floor after she had merely come to bid him farewell for his next assignment abroad. That image alone seared through every heart.
Officially, most fixed bollards in high-traffic zones are supposed to meet crash-rating standards such as ASTM F2656 or PAS 68, capable of stopping a 1.5-ton vehicle at 30–40 kph (DPWH 2023). Yet the ones at NAIA Terminal 1, based on the photos, had concrete footings a mere 4–5 cm (1.6–2 in) deep and hollow cores ill-filled, insufficient to withstand even a lightly loaded SUV at low speed. The result was a showroom-grade failure: sheared bases and open pathways for tragedy.
The safety bollards at the curbside areas of NAIA Terminals 1, 2, 3, and 4 were installed in 2019 during the Duterte administration with a budget of P8 million. Construction experts noted that the bollard at Terminal 1, which failed to stop an accelerated SUV, appeared improperly anchored.
Proper installation demands embedding each bollard at least 18–24 inches (46–61 cm) below ground in reinforced concrete and securing it with high-strength steel rebar or anchor rods. That deep footing ensures a collision leaves the bollard standing firm rather than collapsing into a lethal gap.
The fact that this one fell away instead — leading to the deaths of two innocents — is a tragic symbol of the country’s public work system today. Systems meant to protect us are either broken, poorly built, or deliberately weakened. And when they fail, ordinary Filipinos pay the price — while the powerful often escape accountability. This is what corruption looks like. This is how it kills.
Finger-pointing is inevitable. The Manila International Airport Authority (MIAA) oversees safety contracts, but the New NAIA Infrastructure Corp. (NNIC) manages day-to-day operations. President Ramon Ang pledged immediate aid to victims, yet he also admitted that the bollards “were not the proper specification” (GMA News, May 5, 2025).
How did such a critical defect slip through design reviews, bid vetting, and multiple inspections? It is a microcosm of our system — well-meaning policies undermined by lax execution. (To be continued)/PN
