A Former Yap State Governor’s Wisdom Comes Back to Remind Us Who We Are After Super Typhoons Sinlaku and Bavi

of preserving our culture, our dignity, and our way of life. I also want to extend my deepest respect and solidarity to all my fellow Yapese and Outer Islanders striving in the diaspora across Guam, Saipan, and the CNMI. Navigating a new land while surviving back-to-back super storms is a heavy burden, and your resilience is profound.

The Debate of 1997: A Mirror for Today

Looking back to December 1997, in the heavy aftermath of Super Typhoon Paka, many of us remember the words of former Yap State Governor Vincent A. Figir. He expressed a deep sense of sadness and shame upon seeing Yapese citizens standing in emergency relief lines on Guam, arguing that relying on these lines contradicted our traditional cultural values of self-reliance.

At the time, his words sparked a painful debate across the Micronesian community. For those who had lost everything, his perspective felt harsh. But as I reflect on it now, having lived through those storms and watched our communities navigate modern challenges, I believe there is a profound lesson in his message that comes back to remind us of who we are—not just during a disaster, but every ordinary moment of our lives.

The Standard We Must Live By Every Day

Governor Figir’s words were not a malicious attack on people who were suffering. Instead, they came from a place of deep cultural protection. In our traditional way of life, we are raised to look to our hands, our families, and our immediate community networks first. True Yapese pride—our thum—is built on the quiet dignity of self-sufficiency.

The former governor was reminding us that our identity is not a coat we put on only when it is convenient. If we want to honor our ancestors, we must live the values of independence and accountability every single day. It means working hard, building strong foundations, supporting our neighbors, and managing our households in the diaspora so that we are structurally strong before the storm ever arrives.

Humility in the Storm, Dignity in the Recovery

Yet, we must also hold space for human compassion. When a monster storm like Sinlaku or Bavi strips away a home, cuts the power grid for months, and leaves children without clean water, getting into an emergency relief line is not a cultural failing. It is basic human survival.

In the diaspora, we live in a modern cash economy, far away from our traditional taro patches and ancestral clan lands. Under the Compact of Free Association (COFA), our nations negotiated structural rights—including access to federal disaster relief—in exchange for strategic military access. Utilizing these resources in a time of catastrophic crisis is a practical legal tool, and no Yapese person should ever feel afraid or ashamed to stand in a line to keep their family safe.

There is a vast difference, however, between temporary survival and permanent dependency.

Moving Forward Together

The true test of our Yapese identity is not whether we get into the line when the world is turned upside down—the true test is what we do when we step out of it.

Let us use the emergency relief of the modern world strictly as a temporary stepping stone to get back on our feet. The moment the immediate crisis passes, we must return to the high standards expected of us by our leaders and ancestors. Let us prove that we are a people of immense dignity, capable of accepting a helping hand in our darkest hour without ever losing our independent spirit, our fierce work ethic, or our cultural pride.

To my brothers and sisters in the Mariana Islands, and to our diaspora community coping with the aftermath: you are in our prayers. Let us continue to live every day in a way that honors the islands that birthed us. Stay strong, lift each other up, and carry our culture with pride.