Why your condo developer isn’t always to blame when disaster strikes
I’ve been a condo dweller for twenty‑five years.
For a quarter of a century, I’ve traded backyards for balconies, village gates for lobby guards, and quiet streets for elevators and fire exits. I know the rhythm of the building at different hours. I know the guards better than my neighbors. I’ve lived through water interruptions, power outages, broken elevators, and renovation noise that seems to echo forever.
But one fear has stayed with me all these years:
Fire.
Watching the recent blaze at Olympic Heights in Quezon City felt less like watching the news and more like watching a familiar nightmare. Thick smoke arising from a tower. Residents rushing down stairwells. Families waiting outside, unsure if they still had a home to return to.
Every condo resident has imagined that moment at least once.
When the complaint start sounding the same
At radar.ph, we’ve been receiving a steady stream of messages from condo residents frustrated with how their buildings are being run. This grew after we published a report on governance issues at Flair Towers, a DMCI development. Since then, similar stories have come in from residents of Cityland, Robinsons Land, Deca Homes, SMDC, and others.
These are allegations—not conclusions. Each case must be examined on its own.
But the pattern is hard to ignore.
The complaints revolve around the same themes: transparency issues, maintenance spending questions, condominium corporation disputes, property management frustrations, and residents feeling powerless.
The Olympic Heights fire reminded everyone why these issues matter—and why people often direct blame at the wrong place.
The misunderstanding that causes the most blame
Whenever something goes wrong in a condominium, the instinct is to blame the developer. Its name is on the façade. Its branding is on the brochures. Its reputation is tied to the building.
But here’s the part many people never learn until a crisis happens:
In older condominiums, the developer is often no longer the one running the building—and therefore not always the one responsible when something goes wrong.
Under the Condominium Act (RA 4726), once the project is completed and the common areas are turned over, control shifts to the condominium corporation — the collective body of unit owners. The developer may manage the property during the transition, but long‑term governance belongs to the owners through an elected board.
From that point on, it is the board of directors, not the developer, that approves budgets, decides how association dues are spent, hires or replaces property managers, oversees repairs and maintenance, and ensures that fire and life‑safety systems work.
Property managers implement decisions, but they answer to the board. DHSUD (Department of Human Settlements and Urban Development) oversees governance and handles disputes.
This is the part many residents — and even some unit owners — don’t realize until something terrible happens.
And it’s why the developer is not automatically the one at fault, especially in older buildings where legal and operational control has long shifted away from them.
The people with the least power: Tenants
The Philippines is now a nation of renters inside condominiums.
But tenants — who live in these buildings every day — often have zero voting rights. They cannot elect directors, cannot review budgets, and cannot influence decisions that affect their safety.
Yet they are the ones running down smoke‑filled stairwells during emergencies.
Their legal relationship is with the unit owner, not the condominium corporation. Unless authorized, tenants cannot vote or participate in governance.
Condo living runs on trust
Condo living depends on trust—trust that fire alarms are inspected, trust that emergency exits are clear, trust that sprinklers work, trust that maintenance funds are used properly.
Association dues are meant to cover these essentials. If funds are mismanaged or not transparent, the consequences surface years later.
That trust is the strength—and the vulnerability—of condominium living.
And again, in older buildings, the responsibility for these systems lies with the condominium corporation, not the developer.
The lesson beyond the fire
Disasters don’t just expose faulty wiring.
They expose faulty governance.
The investigation into the Olympic Heights fire will eventually reveal what happened. If lapses are found, accountability must follow.
But accountability must be directed at the right people.
Public anger often targets the developer because its name remains attached to the building. But in many older condominiums, operational control has long been with the condominium corporation and its elected board — not the developer.
After twenty‑five years of condo living, here’s the truth I’ve learned:
When something goes wrong, especially in older buildings, the developer is not always the one who should be blamed.
And your safety in a condominium isn’t shaped only by the walls of your unit. It’s shaped by the decisions made in boardrooms—long before any smoke appears.
