For eight years, I chaired the Vanuatu Business Resilience Council, working alongside government, private sector, and community partners to strengthen our capacity to withstand disasters. In that time, I’ve watched us face cyclone after cyclone, earthquake, volcanic eruption, and pandemic. Each time, the country has responded with remarkable courage. Each time, we’ve repeated the same mistakes.

Vanuatu is one of the most disaster-prone countries on Earth. Climate change is making these events more frequent and severe. Yet we’re still treating disasters as one-off emergencies rather than inevitable events that demand systematic, institutionalised preparedness. And it’s our children who pay the highest price.

We suffer from institutional amnesia. Following a recent cyclone, donors supported the implementation of a cash transfer system in partnership with an international NGO and the private sector. It worked brilliantly—getting assistance directly to affected families quickly and transparently. Hundreds of hours of learning went into developing this approach. The template was proven. The institutional knowledge was documented.

Then the government decided to throw it out and create their own system from scratch. It failed.

Now we have NGOs operating in silos, each trying various forms of the same thing—having to reinvent wheels that have already been perfected. This is costly, inefficient, and draining on their resources. We all need to be on the same page, using what works rather than experimenting with vulnerable families’ wellbeing.

Cash transfers are one of the most effective disaster response tools we have.

They allow people to buy what they actually need, support local businesses, maintain dignity, and stimulate recovery. Yet we still haven’t mainstreamed this approach. Every time disaster strikes, we’re starting from scratch whilst families wait.

Partnerships work. When countries truly engage with civil society and the private sector, amazing outcomes happen. Our Government does a terrific job and plays an essential leadership role, but it cannot go it alone.

Civil society and the private sector are force mutilpliers—they bring resources, networks, innovation, and speed that complement government capacity.

The most resilient nations aren’t those with the biggest government budgets. They’re the ones that have built genuine partnerships across sectors, where everyone understands their role before disaster strikes and can execute immediately when it does.

The fundamental problem is speed. Two years after a cyclone damaged our schools, we’re only now putting out tenders to rebuild them. Two years of children learning in substandard, often unsafe conditions. Two years of disrupted education. Two years of setting back the very generation we’re meant to be empowering.

Think about what this means. A Year 7 student whose school was damaged in 2023 is now in Year 9, having spent their entire lower secondary education in compromised facilities. That’s not just inconvenient—it’s unconscionable.

With today’s technology and our institutional knowledge, this is inexcusable. We should have pre-qualified contractors, pre-agreed specifications, pre-positioned materials, and predetermined funding mechanisms ready to activate immediately after disaster strikes.

Cyclones are our most consistent threat. We know they’re coming. We know roughly when. We know what damage they typically cause. So why don’t we have a playbook? Whilst we say we might one, clearly our response shows otherwise.

I’m talking about an operational doctrine that’s practised, refined, and embedded in how every ministry, business, and community organisation operates. When a Category 4 cyclone approaches, we shouldn’t be having meetings to decide what to do—we should be executing a plan everyone already knows.

This includes ensuring our schools are built to comprehensive safety standards that protect children, educators, and staff through a multi-hazard approach.

Our young people deserve education facilities that are safe and resilient—not temporary fixes that will fail in the next disaster.

There are positive signs. We’re now seeing more multipurpose facilities being built—infrastructure that serves economic functions during normal times but can rapidly convert for disaster response. This is the kind of forward-thinking investment we need more of. But we must go further. Parametric insurance can release funds automatically when disaster thresholds are met—no waiting for assessments, no delays, just immediate liquidity. Imagine if school reconstruction funds were automatically triggered within days of a cyclone, not years.

We need pre-disaster agreements with suppliers and contractors. Digital systems for cash transfers at scale—one system, agreed upon, that everyone uses. Early warning systems that educate young people, giving them knowledge and tools to protect themselves and their communities.

These aren’t luxuries—they’re essential infrastructure for a disaster-prone nation. But they require prioritisation and coordination now, not fragmented efforts after the next disaster.

Disaster resilience cannot be a separate workstream we activate in emergencies. It must be mainstreamed into everything we do.

When the Ministry of Education builds a school, resilience must be fundamental, not an add-on. When we plan supply chains, cyclone season must shape those plans. When businesses invest, disaster preparedness must be part of the business case. And crucially, young people must be part of these conversations, not just recipients of our decisions.

Our economy has faced significant setbacks since COVID, compounded by ongoing disasters. The government has done an exceptional job navigating these challenges, but we could accelerate recovery and reduce future losses through better anticipatory action, genuine partnership across all sectors, and commitment to proven approaches rather than costly experimentation.

This year’s theme asks us to empower the next generation for a resilient future. But how can we empower them when we’re still rebuilding their schools two years after they were damaged? How can we build their capacity when we haven’t built the systems that would protect them? How can we ask them to trust our institutions when those institutions can’t agree on basic response mechanisms?

Every child in Vanuatu has the right to live in a safe environment, free from preventable disaster impacts. They have the right to education that isn’t disrupted for years by our institutional failures. They have the right to inherit systems that work—systems we’ve agreed upon together and committed to maintaining.

As Vanuatu prepares for another cyclone season, We need to be calling on our government, private sector, civil society, and development partners to make 2025 the year we stop repeating the cycle.

We must establish a permanent multi-sectoral disaster resilience coordination mechanism with genuine partnership and youth voices. Mainstream cash transfer systems—one agreed-upon approach that everyone uses, building on what works rather than experimenting. Develop and drill operational playbooks. Implement pre-disaster agreements for immediate reconstruction, particularly for schools and health facilities.

Invest in parametric insurance and other resilience-building financial instruments. Continue building multipurpose facilities. Adopt comprehensive school safety frameworks. Accelerate decision-making processes. Integrate disaster preparedness into our curriculum.

Most importantly, we all need to be on the same page. Government, NGOs, private sector, civil society—working from the same playbook, not operating in costly, inefficient silos.

We need to prioritise this work now. Not tomorrow.

Our pikinini deserve schools rebuilt in weeks, not years—and built to withstand the next disaster. Our young people deserve to inherit a nation that has learned from experience and invested in their future.

Our economy deserves the stability that comes from resilience, not repeated setbacks from fragmented, uncoordinated responses.

It’s time we stopped treating disasters as emergencies and started treating resilience as our way of life. It’s time we moved faster, worked together, and committed to what works. And it’s time we truly empowered the next generation—not with words, but with the systems, infrastructure, and institutional commitment they need for a resilient future.

SOURCE: VANUATU DAILY POST