One of the first things I immediately noticed upon reaching the Tacloban City Hall was the innumerable posters of the missing. Their loved ones are clinging on tightly to their printed pictures, to the details of the clothes they were last seen wearing, and to the hope that somehow, they would find their way back.
And then there's the dead. I do not know them, but I am happy that they are being remembered. They do not deserve to be forgotten, because to forget them is to kill them once again.