A test for city hall

A big city like Cebu brings together people of different classes, occupations, origins, and ways of life. They must all share, and compete for, the same limited space to live, work, and rest.

When we use the roads, take public transport, or seek government services, we depend on common rules. We trust that they apply equally to everyone. That trust matters in a big city, where people cannot rely on the familiarity and close ties of a small town or rural community.

Banilad in Cebu City --or, more accurately, the Banilad-Talamban corridor, which also encompasses parts of Barangays Kasambagan and Apas-- is a test case for this proposition because residents from different backgrounds, including many of the city’s middle-class and wealthy residents, converge there or pass through it.

How the government responds to what happens there shows whether the social contract is being upheld --whether it applies the rule of law to everyone without favor, and protects the weak against the strong.

Before dawn last Friday, September 11, 2026, a 42-year-old call center agent was crossing Gov. M. Cuenco Avenue on his way to work. He was reportedly using the marked pedestrian lane when a speeding Toyota Vios struck him. He suffered severe injuries and was declared dead on arrival at the hospital.

Police said the Vios had been racing a Toyota Raize driven by a friend of the Vios driver. The suspected Vios driver was later identified as a 22-year-old man. After the collision, he allegedly stopped near a gasoline station, abandoned the Vios, and got into the Toyota Raize. The Raize driver was later traced and arrested, while the Vios driver remained at large as of this writing.

The victim’s family appealed for justice and called for all those responsible to be held accountable. This is where the city government must take the lead and do more than simply assure the public that justice will be served.

This was the second widely-reported fatal hit-and-run in Banilad within seven months. The first claimed the life of a young businessman in February and prompted Cebu City Vice Mayor Tomas Osmeña to appeal to the public for information. Osmeña called for a review of broader traffic and public safety measures, and personally assured the victim’s family of the city’s support.

Osmeña’s response to that first incident reflected his long experience as a city leader. He recognized the emotional center of the issue and made one thing clear. In Cebu City, there shall be no sacred cows.

It comes from knowing what happens when city residents lose faith in the equal application of the law. They do not simply remain passive. Some victims have money, influence, connections, or strength in numbers, and they can find their own solutions outside the legal system. Once different groups begin enforcing their own ideas of justice, public authority gives way to competing centers of private power, and legal order begins to crumble.

Perhaps this sense of political attentiveness is something Cebu City Mayor Nestor Archival could learn in his first term.  I can understand why he may not yet have developed that same keen awareness of urban dynamics. When Osmeña called attention to Archival’s use of traffic escorts, the so-called “sweepers”, Archival initially defended the practice. It reportedly ended afterward, however, suggesting that he eventually listened.

Cebu City brings together people with unequal resources and influence who nevertheless share the same roads and public spaces. What makes the city work is the belief that public authority will protect everyone and that its rules will apply equally, regardless of wealth, status, or political connections.