LAST week, I covered Sen. Panfilo “Ping” Lacson’s exposé on how human actions turn floods into disasters. Today’s column focuses on the dramatis personae — legislators, Cabinet members, government officials and local authorities involved in corruption — who exploit the national budget.

We have seen this before. We have seen it too many times. The ghost of pork barrel politics haunts our national budget like an unwanted revenant — Lazarus resurrected. The Supreme Court’s 2013 ruling against the Priority Development Assistance Fund (PDAF) after the Napoles scandal was heralded as a cleansing act, the dawn of transparent governance — kuno. And yet here we are, a decade later, wading through a swamp of “insertions” and “lump sums.” Pork is alive. Pork is fat. And pork is now dressed up as “flood control.” But this time, the ongoing corruption is intertwined with another, equally potent narrative of political intrigue and rivalry between the Marcos and Duterte camps vying for dominance in the 2028 elections and beyond.

The Senate coup

The recent upheaval in the Senate, a miniature version of this larger battle, depicts a seesaw war of attrition between these two forces. The aftermath of the earlier 2025 senatorial elections saw the Duterte bloc in the ascendancy, confidently squashing the VP Sara impeachment, orchestrated by Senate President Escudero and the not so subtle attempt to humiliate her bete noire, potential presidential rival, Speaker Martin Romualdez, through the Blue Ribbon Committee hearings.

However, the meticulously planned script unraveled in a stunning twist. This elegant takeover, executed with breathtaking speed, saw 10 senators defect from the supermajority bloc to form a new 15-member coalition. This swift maneuver restored Tito Sotto to the Senate presidency and stripped the pro-Duterte bloc of its key leadership positions, including Senator Marcoleta’s chairmanship of the Blue Ribbon Committee. What was anticipated to be a moment of achievement for the Duterte camp instead became a significant setback, highlighting the risks associated with political overconfidence.

The humiliation deepened as the House of Representatives, having absorbed the initial blow, delivered a devastating counterpunch. While the Duterte bloc-led Blue Ribbon’s witnesses offered only empty allegations, aided by the incongruous interpellation of Sen. Jinggoy Estrada who himself has been incriminated by corruption in the past, the House brought forward the DPWH mafiosi — the “BGC Boys” who provided tangible evidence — photographs, text messages and direct testimony — against Senators Jinggoy himself and Joel Villanueva. This move turned the tables, placing these senators in a far more precarious legal and political position.

The Discayas and the media

At the center of this storm are the Discayas, suddenly elevated to the limelight by a compliant press. Only months ago, Sarah Discaya was profiled as a “smart city visionary,” a fresh face of entrepreneurship, philanthropy and public service. How expedient. How polished. How utterly false. Legislative hearings stripped away the veneer, revealing a British Filipino owner-wife whose nine construction firms anomalously bid against each other for nearly 500 DPWH projects and won 71. Substandard dikes in Bulacan and Iloilo, already crumbling, were traced back to their companies.

Equally damning is the role of the media in laundering this corruption through glossy profiles. This is the betrayal behind the betrayal. When the Babaos and Korinas trade their watchdog teeth for lapdog flattery, the public is not just misinformed, it is disarmed. And when the flood comes, it is not the Discayas who drown. It is the ordinary Filipino who trusted the headlines.

The enablers: The BGC Boys

The web of corruption extends deeper, with the “BGC Boys” (Bulacan Group of Contractors) as key facilitators for these contractors. They stand accused of pocketing billions and laundering funds via casino transactions. The scandal centers on a staggering P28.9 billion worth of flood control projects, some discovered to be “ghost projects.” The magnitude of the irregularities points to a systemic perversion of public funds, a cancer within the bureaucracy.

Whistleblowers now claim officials use “dummy” companies as fronts to corner contracts. And then there is Zaldy Co, erstwhile congressional appropriations committee chair, House Speaker Martin’s acolyte whose party-lists reportedly received P4 billion in projects, plus another P13 billion under his company, Sunwest, one of the 15 contractors mentioned by the President.

The circle of corruption is complete: the legislator writes the budget, the contractor receives the contract, the dummies build the flood walls, the engineers validate and launder the funds, the flood walls crumble, and the people suffer.

The Teflon-clad Villar

Yet, one figure remains untouched: Sen. Mark Villar. Netizens are grumbling why Villar sits in judgment as a senator, not as a defendant like his successor, Secretary Bonoan. Under President Duterte’s “Build, Build, Build,” and during Villar’s incumbency as Public Works secretary, a staggering 44,000 projects were awarded in just two years. Now, he escapes scrutiny, perhaps daunted by their powerful dynasty. Mark’s sister, Camille, now sits as senator, replacing mother Cynthia in the last election. Manny, the billionaire patriarch, used to be a Senate president and speaker of the lower house. Villar promoted the notorious Henry Alcantara as district engineer of Bulacan’s first engineering district. The Deegong once defended Villar by saying he was “too rich to be corrupt.” A truly pathetic defense.

In this grim landscape, a maverick figure emerges in the form of Sen. Ping Lacson, now the new Blue Ribbon Committee chairman. He warned that senators and congressmen may be complicit in these anomalous projects and has reiterated his call for complete transparency. Lacson, who in his past stint as a senator never partook of the “pork barrel,” is now being attacked by the Duterte camp and their social media trolls. He must be doing the right thing.

His hearings are expected to disclose irregularities, this time dating back to the Duterte administration, a stark contrast to Marcoleta’s that focused only on the Marcos era. During his questioning of the Discayas, the clueless senator-comedian Bato de la Rosa inadvertently revealed that the Discayas were among the largest contractors during President Duterte’s term.

Additionally, it was disclosed that a substantial budget of P51 billion was allocated to congressman Paolo Duterte of Davao during the first three years of his father’s presidency. Also, despite Sen. Bong Go’s denials in his privilege speech, his family’s firm CLTG Builders partnered with the Discayas on a P816-million project in Davao in 2017 — and perhaps more.

Lacson who does his homework promises to link more actors to this perversion. So far, he has linked the shameless Bonoan to the MBB Global Properties, contracting for the DPWH. MBB could stand for the daughter-owners of Candaba Mayor Maglangue, DPWH Undersecretary Bernardo and Bonoan. And another high-ranking DPWH undersecretary for planning, Catalina Cabral, may be on the chopping block.

More political corruption will soon be exposed. The key question is whether these revelations will lead to genuine accountability or will simply fade into another wasted reckoning — another moro-moro. The integrity of our institutions and the welfare of the Filipino people hang in the balance.

We need to be vigilant with our street marches and protests fueled by our anger and rage!

The Senate President crowed yesterday that the party he nominally coheads, PDP-Laban, has a “pleasant problem” — too many potential senatorial candidates. Koko Pimentel’s estimate is they have up to 20 possible choices for the 12-person slate for the 2019 senatorial race. But his list includes the five administration-affiliated senatorial incumbents up for reelection next year. This is a group that has made noises that, much as it prefers to remain in the administration camp, it is unhappy with the way PDP-Laban has been designating its local leaders and candidates, and therefore prefers to strike out on its own, perhaps in alliance with the other administration (regional) party, Hugpong ng Pagbabago, headed by the President’s daughter and current Davao City mayor, Sara Duterte.

Setting aside, then, the five-person “Force,” the administration-oriented but not PDP-friendly reelectionists (Nancy Binay, Sonny Angara, Cynthia Villar, Grace Poe, and JV Ejercito), what Koko’s crowing over is a mixed bag. Some of them have been floated by Speaker Pantaleon Alvarez (with whom Mayor Duterte clashed in recent months): six representatives (Gloria Macapagal Arroyo who is in her last term in the House of Representatives; Albee Benitez, Karlo Nograles, Rey Umali, Geraldine Roman, and Zajid Mangudadatu), three Cabinet members (Bong Go, Harry Roque, and Francis Tolentino), and two other officials (Mocha Uson and Ronald dela Rosa), which still only adds up to 11 possible candidates (who are the missing three?).

Of all of these, the “Force” reelectionists are only fair-weather allies of the present dispensation; their setting themselves apart is about much more than the mess PDP-Laban made in, say, San Juan where support for the Zamoras makes it extremely unattractive for JV Ejercito to consider being in the same slate. Their cohesion is about thinking ahead: Creating the nucleus for the main coalition to beat in the 2022 presidential election. The contingent of congressmen and congresswomen who could become candidates for the Senate, however, seems more a means to kick the Speaker’s rivals upstairs (at least in the case of Benitez and Arroyo) and pad the candidates’ list with token but sacrificial candidates, a similar situation to the executive officials being mentioned as possible candidates (of the executive officials, only Go seems viable, but making him run would deprive the President of the man who actually runs the executive department, and would be a clear signal that the administration is shifting to a post-term protection attitude instead of the more ambitious system-change mode it’s been on, so far).

Vice President Leni Robredo has been more circumspect, saying she’s not sure the Liberal Party can even muster a full slate. The party chair, Kiko Pangilinan, denied that a list circulating online (incumbent Bam Aquino, former senators Mar Roxas, Jun Magsaysay, TG Guingona, current and former representatives Jose Christopher Belmonte, Kaka Bag-ao, Edcel Lagman, Raul Daza, Gary Alejano and Erin Tañada, former governor Eddie Panlilio and Cebu City Mayor Tomas Osmeña) had any basis in fact.

What both lists have in common is they could be surveys-on-the-cheap, trial balloons to get the public pulse. Until the 17th Congress reconvenes briefly from May 14 to June 1 for the tail end of its second regular session (only to adjourn sine die until the third regular session begins on July 23), it has nothing much to do. Except, that is, for the barangay elections in May, after a last-ditch effort by the House to postpone them yet again to October failed.

Names can be floated but the real signal will come in July, when the President mounts the rostrum and calls for the big push for a new constitution—or not. Connected to this would be whether the Supreme Court disposes of its own chief, which would spare the Senate—and thus, free up the legislative calendar—to consider Charter change instead of an impeachment trial. In the meantime, what congressmen do seem abuzz over is an unrefusable invitation to the Palace tomorrow — to mark Arroyo’s birthday. An event possibly pregnant with meaning.

 This timeless proclamation is not merely the title of one of the most illustrious speeches in history, but also a profound testament to our identity as a nation. It was penned by Sir Carlos P. Romulo, one of the preeminent Filipino leaders, and a statesman in the truest sense of the term. A statesman, in contrast to a mere politician, is a venerable leader whose vision transcends self-interest, dedicating himself to the service of his country. Romulo embodied this ideal - deeply esteemed not only within the Philippines but also across the globe.

As I compose this reflection, I do so with profound humility, as a means of honoring Romulo and the myriad heroes - both celebrated and unsung - who have selflessly sacrificed for our cherished nation. I confess that my eyes well up with emotion as I endeavor to articulate these sentiments. There are instances when I grapple with self-doubt: is my introduction sufficiently compelling to seize attention? Do my opening sentences encapsulate the essence of my argument? Will I be able to sustain my narrative, addressing the who, what, when, where, why, and how that every writer must confront? These inquiries linger in my mind, yet I persevere, for this essay transcends mere writing - it is a profound exploration of my identity.

I find myself modestly situated in my mid-40s, a father to a vibrant 6-year-old. I have dedicated two decades to the noble profession of teaching, spent 25 years as an advocate within the NGO sector, and currently serve as a public servant in my barangay. Each day, as I traverse the path between home and work, I often pause by the roadside, absentmindedly plucking leaves from nearby plants, my mind flooded with disturbing thoughts. Is the Philippines a lost cause? Am I genuinely contributing enough to secure a brighter future for my child? Doubt seeps in, and at times, it feels insurmountable. Yet, after a moment of contemplation, I find solace in a gentle smile, a hushed prayer, and I remind myself that tomorrow heralds yet another day of potential, a day brimming with hope.

“I am a Filipino” transcended mere admiration; it constituted a pivotal chapter in my personal odyssey. Throughout my high school and collegiate years, I recited it in oratorical competitions, where it bestowed upon me both triumphs and a profound sense of pride. More than a quarter of a century later, the potency of Romulo’s eloquence continues to resonate inside me. Each line vividly encapsulates our nation's victories and tribulations, its sorrows and aspirations. His words serve as a poignant reminder that, despite the acrimony of our historical narrative, an indomitable flame of promise persists for the generations yet to come.

And yet, there exists a caveat. A persistent sense of disquiet resides deep in my conscience. I harbor no doubts regarding our collective potential as a people, yet I grapple with the tide of emotions surging within me just hearing the names of many so-called leaders in our midst today. Instead of a sense of pride, I am consumed by a profound indignation. How is it that Filipinos, entrusted with the stewardship of their compatriots, have permitted avarice and corruption to taint our institutions? How many of us silently murmur, ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! Must I disconnect from the television, the internet, and social media merely to safeguard my child's innocence?

Sometimes, I ponder: should we relinquish the pursuit of justice to the divine, as the venerable adage suggests - “Vengeance is not ours, it belongs to God”? Or must we take action, bearing in mind the Scriptural assurance that “all things work together for good”? Are we merely awaiting karma, or do we lack the fortitude to act? Am I oblivious? Am I in a state of slumber? Or am I merely feigning sleep out of trepidation regarding the consequences of rising up?

I am a Filipino. This identity signifies more than mere nationality; it embodies a profound responsibility. If I choose to remain silent, does that diminish my essence as a Filipino? If I stand idly by while corruption siphons the life out of my nation, am I not betraying the valiant heroes who preceded me? Most importantly, what legacy shall I bequeath to my child and to generations yet unborn? I could conjure an array of more questions steeped in doubt, reflecting on what has transpired and what may yet unfold, but will such introspection yield the truth?

Carlos P. Romulo once proclaimed that being Filipino is not merely a privilege, but an honor and a profound duty. Today, I find myself pondering - along with all of us - whether we continue to embody this truth. I contend that the answer resides not solely in our rhetoric, but in our deliberate actions - immediate and resolute - for our nation, for our compatriots, and for the generations that will follow.