Beneath the Asphalt: The Buried Truth Behind Metro Manila's Floods

Wazzup Pilipinas!?

Let's delve deeper into this critical issue. The question of why our streets flood so easily goes beyond the simple answer of heavy rain. It's a dramatic story of human development clashing with the natural world, a narrative that affects millions of people and billions of pesos.

The Real Culprit: A River's Memory

The prevailing assumption is that floods are caused by clogged drains and relentless downpours. While these factors contribute to the problem, they are not the root cause. According to Dr. Mahar Lagmay, Executive Director of UP NOAH, the real reason is a matter of geography and urban planning. The most flood-prone streets are not random—they are located in areas that were historically natural waterways. "It was really a waterway, but we paved a street over it," he explains.

This means that every time it rains heavily, water naturally seeks out its original path. These paths, however, have been sealed by layers of asphalt and concrete, forcing the water to rise and overflow. Metro Manila, in particular, is an isthmus situated between Manila Bay and Laguna de Bay and lies on one of the Philippines' widest floodplains. It is home to a major river basin, the Marikina River Basin, and eight smaller sub-basins. The region's geography makes it naturally prone to flooding, a vulnerability that has been amplified by uncontrolled and rapid urbanization since the 1970s. This "urban sprawl" has covered natural ground that used to absorb rainwater, leaving the water with nowhere to go.

The Heavy Price of Urbanization

The consequences of this geographical oversight are staggering. The "urban flashfloods" that paralyze cities have a devastating economic impact. According to a 2017 study co-authored by Dr. Lagmay, the estimated daily economic loss due to traffic congestion from flooding in Metro Manila is up to Php 2.4 billion per day. The Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA) has long partnered with the Philippines to address this issue, recognizing that such frequent disasters are a major impediment to sustainable economic growth. Their projects, like the Manggahan Floodway, have been instrumental in mitigating damage, with one analysis showing an 80% reduction in damage during a major typhoon.

But the issue isn't just about economics; it's also about a century-old drainage system that is overwhelmed by modern development and is often clogged by garbage. The combination of these factors makes flooding inevitable, even with relatively short but intense rain events.

The Path Forward: Science, Technology, and Community

Despite the grim picture, there are actionable solutions. A study on "Street floods in Metro Manila" published in the Journal of Environmental Sciences outlines several key interventions:

Elevate Roads: Raise the elevation of streets that are in topographic low areas, especially where they intersect with creeks.

Improve Drainage: Design and build more effective drainage systems that can handle large volumes of water and direct them to the nearest stream channel.

Utilize Technology: Employ tools like Light Detection and Ranging (LiDAR) and flood simulation to create accurate maps and models for more precise urban planning. This kind of technology helps engineers determine which roads are lower than the creeks and how to best manage water flow.

Complementing these structural changes are community-based initiatives. The Lyfsaver app, developed by the UP Resilience Institute and other partners, is a community-powered platform that allows people to report real-time hazards like floods and landslides. This crowdsourced data provides a more accurate picture of what's happening on the ground, enabling faster response times and better-informed decisions. It is a powerful example of how the public can be part of the solution, transforming a problem of geography into a problem of collective action.

In the end, the flooding on our streets isn't an act of nature, but a consequence of our choices. The solution lies not just in better engineering, but in a fundamental shift in perspective—recognizing and respecting the natural pathways of water that our concrete jungles have tried to erase.

Photo from the Market Monitor

Reclaiming Power: Indigenous Communities Lead the Way to a Just Energy Future

Wazzup Pilipinas!?

A dramatic shift is underway in the global energy transition, and it's being led by Indigenous communities. No longer content to be bystanders or victims of large-scale energy projects, these communities are stepping into roles of leadership and ownership, transforming the conversation from one of extraction to one of empowerment. This movement is rooted in ancestral wisdom and a deep respect for the land, proving that a cleaner energy future can also be a more just and equitable one.

From Extraction to Empowerment: A New Era of Energy

For generations, Indigenous lands have been a prime target for resource extraction, often without the Free, Prior, and Informed Consent (FPIC) of the people who live there. This has led to environmental damage, loss of traditional territories, and a lack of real power in decision-making. The traditional energy transition model risks continuing this cycle, viewing Indigenous lands as mere locations for renewable energy projects rather than recognizing the people as key partners.

However, a new model is emerging, one that centers on Indigenous rights, co-ownership, and benefit-sharing. This shift is not just about fairness; it's about building more effective, resilient, and sustainable energy systems. When Indigenous leadership is at the forefront, projects are developed with respect for culture, values, and land, ensuring that economic benefits support the entire community—families, education, and future generations—not just corporations.

Global Examples of Indigenous Leadership in Clean Energy

Across the globe, Indigenous communities are demonstrating how to build a clean and just future.

Canada: The Dokis First Nation's Hydroelectric Co-ownership

The Dokis First Nation in Ontario, Canada, is a powerful example of this new model. After decades of advocacy, the community now co-owns a 10-MW hydroelectric facility. This partnership grants them equity participation and benefit-sharing, allowing them to support ecosystem restoration and advance their own economic self-determination. This is a clear demonstration of how rights-based collaboration can deliver clean energy while respecting Indigenous sovereignty.

New Zealand: The Tauhara Māori Trust's Geothermal Partnership

In Aotearoa (New Zealand), the Tauhara Māori Trust has become a significant player in the geothermal energy sector. The trust owns 35% of a major geothermal project and has the right to increase their share to 50%.  This project is developed on the community’s terms, with deep respect for Māori culture, values, and land. The economic benefits directly support their whānau (family) and the well-being of future generations, making it a powerful example of climate solutions rooted in indigenous self-determination.

The Philippines: Community-Led Micro-Hydro Systems

In the Philippines, Indigenous communities are not just participating in energy projects; they are co-creating them. With over 20 community-based micro-hydro systems in the Cordillera and other regions, Indigenous peoples are building their own solutions.  These systems, with a combined capacity of approximately 400 kW, are built with appropriate technology tailored to local needs. They provide clean power to homes, schools, and local livelihoods, bringing local control and resilience to rural areas.

The Path Forward: A Call to Action

These groundbreaking examples show that the energy transition must be a move from taking to sharing, from exclusion to participation, and from imposed projects to Indigenous-led solutions. Major challenges remain, including a lack of FPIC, weak protection of Indigenous rights in clean energy governance, and the risk of digital exclusion in tech-driven energy systems. Without Indigenous leadership and consent, the energy transition risks becoming just another form of extractivism.

As we honor International Indigenous Peoples Day, we are called to center Indigenous rights, share the benefits of a clean energy future, and co-create a truly just and sustainable world. This future, guided by ancestral wisdom and community power, promises to be cleaner, fairer, and more respectful of both the planet and its people. 

Photo from Mongabay

Infrastructure Corruption’s Rotten Core: It’s Not the Contractors—It’s the Politicians

Wazzup Pilipinas!?

In the never-ending blame game over the sorry state of Philippine infrastructure, one narrative has been repeated like gospel: the contractors are the villains. They’re painted as the shoddy builders, the shortcut-takers, the ones who deliver substandard roads that crack before the ribbon-cutting ceremony even ends.

But a bombshell from Baguio City Mayor Benjamin Magalong exposes the real villain in this saga—and it wears a barong, not a hard hat.

According to Magalong’s breakdown of the ugly truth:

40% – Kickback for the politician

10% – Implementing agency (also a form of kickback)

5% – “Others” (likely bribes to smooth approvals)

30% – Actual project budget (already shaved down)

15% – Contractor’s profit margin

By the time the money reaches the project site, nearly two-thirds of the budget has already been eaten alive by corruption. Even the best contractor in the world can’t produce world-class infrastructure on crumbs.

So why are contractors the ones being dragged into the spotlight, while the true masterminds sit comfortably in Congress, provincial capitols, and city halls?

The Unspoken Rule of Public Works

In Philippine public works, there’s a dirty rule whispered in the corridors of power:

“If there’s no grease money, there’s no project.”

And the first ones to demand that grease?

Not the engineers. Not the builders. The politicians themselves.

It’s a system that ensures that from the very start, the project’s fate is sealed—funds are hollowed out before a single brick is laid, before a single road marker is planted.

If President Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr. is truly serious about cleaning up this rot, he must go after the termites in Congress and local government, not just the ones holding cement mixers.

A Reform Blueprint from Global Best Practices

Countries like Singapore, Ukraine, and Brazil have proven that billions can be saved—and trust can be restored—through radical transparency and accountability. The Philippines can do the same, if we dare.

1. Total Political Ban on Project Procurement

No Congressman, Mayor, or Governor should have any role in selecting contractors, suppliers, or project budgets.

Create an Independent Procurement Authority, staffed by career professionals, awarding projects based purely on merit, technical quality, and cost-effectiveness.

2. Digital, Traceable, Public Contracting

Adopt a ProZorro-style platform (Ukraine model) where all bids, budgets, and payments are visible in real time.

Implement “Audit Trail by Design” where every peso—from budget allocation to contractor payment—is digitally traceable.

3. Whistleblower Protection & Rewards

Secure hotlines and portals for contractors to report political extortion.

Grant whistleblowers immunity and up to 10% of recovered funds from corrupt deals.

4. Automatic Blacklist & Lifetime Ban for Corrupt Officials

Criminalize political “cuts” from project funds.

Impose lifetime bans and asset forfeiture on guilty officials.

Blacklist contractors tied to politicians, their families, or dummy corporations.

5. Citizen & Media Watchdog Dashboards

Create a one-click Citizen Infrastructure Dashboard where the public can see project costs, contractors, and timelines.

Enable NGOs, journalists, and citizen groups to monitor worksites—similar to Brazil’s Operation Car Wash.

The Power Punch

You don’t fix public works by humiliating contractors if the real thieves are the ones approving the budget.

The fight isn’t just about bad roads or crumbling bridges—it’s about the theft of the nation’s future. Every siphoned peso is a delayed classroom, an unfinished hospital, a road to nowhere.

This is not about calling out one name—it’s about dismantling a system.

But if you feel personally attacked, maybe it’s because you know you’re part of the problem.

Image from Transparency International