REPUBLIC Act 7183 and Executive Order 28 have been on the books for years, clear in intent and explicit in their bans. Yet every holiday season, illegal firecrackers — boga foremost among them — resurface as if the law were merely a suggestion. Children are injured, hospitals brace for predictable cases, and authorities once again ask the public to comply. The question writes itself: why do these illegal devices continue to thrive?
The simplest answer is that the law does not inspire fear — only familiarity.
A law that is rarely enforced is not a deterrent. It becomes background noise, like the crackle of fireworks themselves. Vendors know inspections are sporadic. Users know penalties are unevenly applied. Communities have learned that consequences, if they come at all, are temporary and negotiable. In such an environment, illegality becomes routine.
Are the penalties too soft? Confiscation and fines sound stern on paper, but when these are inconsistently imposed — or quietly settled — the message is diluted. A fine that is cheaper than compliance becomes part of the cost of doing business. Without real consequences, the risk-reward calculation favors violation.
Is enforcement too selective? Crackdowns often focus on the visible and the small-time: the neighborhood seller, the street-level user, the improvised device found after an injury. Meanwhile, the supply chain — the makers, the repeat sellers, the distributors who reappear every year — remains largely intact. When enforcement targets symptoms rather than sources, the problem regenerates.
Or is political will simply absent? Enforcing fireworks laws is rarely popular. It risks offending voters, disrupting “tradition,” and confronting local tolerance for noise and bravado. It is easier to issue advisories than to shut down sellers. Easier to warn parents than to penalize them. Easier to act after a child is hurt than before.
This is the cost of laws without teeth. The public begins to believe that compliance is optional and that tragedy is the only real trigger for action. By then, the damage is done — often permanently.
Public safety laws exist to prevent harm, not to be activated by it. RA 7183 and EO 28 were crafted precisely because fireworks injuries are predictable and preventable. When these laws fail on the ground, it is not because they are unclear, but because they are not felt.
If illegal firecrackers are to disappear, the law must become inconvenient to violate. That means consistent enforcement, meaningful penalties, and the political courage to act even when it is unpopular. Until then, we will continue to ask the same questions every December — and watch the same injuries repeat themselves.
A law that no one fears is a law that fails. And when that failure blinds a child, the blame cannot be shifted to tradition, ignorance, or chance. It rests squarely on the refusal to make the law matter.
