The room erupted before I even expected it to.
In my graduate Public Administration class at the School of Graduate Studies, composed mostly of public administrators and some government officials, what began as an analytical exercise quickly turned into a passionate clash of convictions. Voices rose, arguments sharpened, and for a moment the classroom felt less like a lecture hall and more like a forum on the state of the nation.
I had just played the now-viral video of Zaldy Co, a businessman and resigned Ako Bicol Partylist representative, where he insists that President Bongbong Marcos and Speaker Martin Romualdez are the true architects of the alleged hundred billion-peso budget insertions at the bicameral conference committee, and that he “did not pocket a single peso.” I asked my students to dissect his narrative: What is he protecting? What is he shifting? Who gains from his version of events?
Then I layered the context.
The alleged destabilization plot against the administration.
The very public rift between Vice President Sara Duterte and President Marcos.
Senator Imee Marcos’ stunning accusations that her own brother, sister-in-law, and First Lady Liza Marcos and nephew, Rep. Sandro Marcos, are drug users.
The Independent Commission for Infrastructure (ICI), whose credibility has been questioned from the outset.
And the growing frustration of a nation waiting — over a hundred days now — for someone, anyone to be held accountable for a scandal of historic scale.
The reaction was immediate and fierce. Some students defended institutions. Others demanded transparency. A few warned that destabilization narratives are often convenient shields. Many expressed exhaustion, a deep, familiar disappointment at yet another cycle of grand corruption met with theatrics instead of truth.
It is obvious. The country is drowning in political noise. But the noise is starting to look less like chaos and more like choreography. Because while Filipinos fixate on the spectacle, the flood control scandal quietly slips from center stage.
And that cannot happen.
Floods do not wait for politics to settle. Every rainfall reminds us of the real cost of this corruption. Every submerged barangay is a testimony. Every destroyed livelihood is evidence. Floods do not care about political alliances, nor will floods pause for press conferences. Floods do not respect power.
If we want to talk about destabilizing the nation, let us call it what it is:
Corruption destabilizes.
Impunity destabilizes.
Public funds stolen in broad daylight destabilize.
This scandal is not simply a governance issue. It is a public safety crisis.
Senator Imee Marcos’ accusations against her own family are unprecedented. But even this extraordinary spectacle should not distract us from the central question:
Where did the money go?
The public deserves more than finger-pointing. They deserve consequences.
To be blunt about the whole thing:
Government officials did not do this alone. Private businessmen did not do this alone. Contractors did not do this alone. This is a network. A system. An ecosystem of corruption. Every person in that ecosystem must be held accountable.
Let them fight among themselves. Let the accusations fly. Let the political drama unfold. But let none of these distract us from the real work:
Find the money.
Expose the culprits.
Punish the guilty.
No one must look away.
P.S.
As this column goes to press, the Office of the Ombudsman has found probable cause to file criminal charges against former Ako Bicol Rep. Zaldy Co, several DPWH Region 4-B officials, and the board of directors of Sunwest Corp. over the allegedly anomalous flood-control project in Oriental Mindoro.
ABS-CBN reports that the charges include malversation of public funds through falsification of public documents and violation of Section 3(e) of the Anti-Graft Law. In Co’s case, the Ombudsman also cited a violation of Section 3(h) of RA 3019.*
