“I knew Duterte would not forget,” Shirelyn said.

In November I heard Mr. Duterte give a speech in Tacloban commemorating the third anniversary of Haiyan’s landing. He promised to speed up relief assistance in the region, which had stalled. And he threatened to kill a government official he had put in charge of the effort if that official failed to move families into permanent disaster-proof homes fast enough. (“You know mate,” he told the man, who was on stage with him, “in truth, it’s rare that I shoot people, especially my friends. But if you are unable to do this…”)

In the same speech, Mr. Duterte also made a comment implying that he had ogled Vice President Leni Robredo’s legs during cabinet meetings.

“What a pervert,” I whispered to an old woman sitting next to me in the audience. “Let it go,” she said. “He cared enough to be here.”

Politicians in the Philippines are often viewed as opportunists who reach out to constituents while they are courting votes but disappear from view once in office. To Haiyan survivors, Mr. Duterte is different. Three years after the disaster, even since becoming president, he came to Tacloban. This set him apart from his predecessor, Benigno S. Aquino, who once castigated survivors for complaining about their hardships instead of being grateful for still being alive.

The paradox, of course, is that even as Mr. Duterte restores dignity to disaster victims who have felt neglected by the state, his administration is attacking other vulnerable communities, like suspected drug users and those around them.

In January I asked Rafael, a security guard in Tacloban, how he felt about the government’s campaign against drugs, which has already claimed more lives than Haiyan did. Rafael lost his wife to the typhoon.