P5.16 Billion in Flood Control Projects Flow to Chiz Escudero’s Top Campaign Donor — All Roads Lead to Sorsogon

Wazzup Pilipinas!?

It’s not just the rivers of Sorsogon that are overflowing — so are the government contracts pouring into the pockets of one man deeply tied to Senate President Chiz Escudero.

Lawrence R. Lubiano, president of Centerways Construction and Development Inc., was no ordinary supporter in Escudero’s 2022 Senate comeback bid. He was the top donor, contributing a staggering ₱30 million — nearly one-fifth of Escudero’s entire declared campaign war chest of ₱146.5 million.

Two years later, the returns on that political investment appear to have arrived in torrents.

From 2021 to 2024, Centerways Construction secured ₱5.16 billion worth of flood control projects. In 2021, the company had only five such projects. But in 2022 — the year Escudero reclaimed a Senate seat — those contracts exploded to 44, a nearly ninefold jump.

President Ferdinand Marcos Jr., in his recent State of the Nation Address, publicly named the top 15 flood control contractors cornering one-fifth of all nationwide projects — ₱100 billion in total. Centerways ranked 7th.

And where did most of this flood control work happen? In the very heart of Escudero’s political kingdom.

The Sorsogon Connection

A staggering 96% of Centerways’ projects between 2021 and 2024 were in the Bicol region, with 54 projects in Sorsogon alone. Even more striking, 36 of those were in Sorsogon’s First District — Escudero’s long-time political turf.

This district has been firmly under the Escudero dynasty’s grip since 1987, alternating between Chiz, his father Salvador, his mother Evelina, and his sister Maria Bernadette.

Before returning to the Senate in 2022, Escudero served as Sorsogon’s governor from 2019 to 2022. Now, with him wielding the Senate’s gavel, a former top campaign donor is raking in billions in local projects.

A President’s Warning — and an Awkward Backdrop

During his SONA, President Marcos made a fiery vow to crack down on corruption in flood control contracts:

“Mga kickback, mga initiative, errata, SOP, for the boys… sa mga nakikipagsabwatan upang kunin ang pondo ng bayan at nakawin ang kinabukasan ng ating mga mamamayan, mahiya naman kayo sa inyong kapwa Pilipino!”

As he said those words, Senate President Escudero was seated directly behind him — alongside House Speaker Martin Romualdez, the President’s cousin.

Was it a general warning to all contractors and politicians? Or a pointed reminder to those within arm’s reach?

Escudero Fires Back

Escudero has rejected insinuations that he inserted questionable items in the budget to benefit specific contractors.

“Grabe naman kasi ‘yong insinuation ng mga naninira. ‘Pag nag-amyenda ka ng budget, insert na agad, iligal na agad, at bawal na agad, may kita na agad. Hindi naman siguro tama ‘yon,” Escudero said.

But critics argue the numbers tell their own story — one where political loyalty and public funds appear to flow in the same direction.

Patterns in the Flood

Centerways isn’t alone in drawing suspicion. Other contractors on Marcos’ list have known political ties, including those linked to the Discayas and to Congressman Zaldy Co, both of whom have also been embroiled in controversies over project allocations.

The President himself admitted his findings were “disturbing,” noting that just 15 contractors captured a disproportionate share of the nation’s flood control spending.

The Larger Storm

Flood control projects are critical in a country battered yearly by typhoons and rising sea levels. But they have long been a magnet for corruption — padded budgets, substandard work, and “SOPs” that turn public works into private profit streams.

When political allies and campaign donors dominate these projects, the line between public service and political payback becomes dangerously blurred.

The people of Sorsogon — and the rest of the Philippines — deserve flood control systems built on integrity, not loyalty. Because in the end, real flood protection is not about concrete walls or drainage canals — it’s about protecting the nation from the rising tide of corruption.

War on Gaza: When Death Becomes Just Another Headline

Wazzup Pilipinas!?

Sixty thousand dead.

That’s the death toll in Gaza after more than a year and ten months of war. The number is so large that it becomes abstract — just a row of digits we skim past in the news feed before clicking on a funny TikTok skit. But imagine this: sixty thousand bodies. Imagine how many stadiums they could fill. Imagine the silence of that crowd if they were all gone.

This is no longer just about missiles. It is no longer just about hunger and malnutrition. The latest headline is starvation — the complete absence of food over a prolonged period until the body simply gives up. Can you picture dying that way? Slowly, painfully, the body devouring itself, while the world scrolls on?

Missiles have struck water distribution points where children were queuing. A Catholic church, the only one in Gaza, was hit. Journalists have died covering the war. Yet our collective reaction is a shrug: So what else is new?

Psychologists have a term for this — psychic numbing. The human mind cannot truly comprehend large-scale death. We can mourn for a neighbor, empathize with a single grieving family, feel compelled to help a handful of survivors. But when the body count runs into tens of thousands, followed by zero after zero, it becomes an incomprehensible statistic, especially when it’s happening somewhere far away.

It happened here too. Thirty thousand died in the Philippine war on drugs — and many Filipinos looked away. Now, double that number have died in Gaza. Out of sight, out of mind.

Compassion fatigue has numbed the global conscience. After nearly two years of relentless images of bombed buildings, lifeless children, and desperate civilians, our hearts have grown calloused. Gaza is just 365 square kilometers — roughly the size of Camanava and Eastern Manila District combined — with a pre-war population of 2.1 million, about the same as Manila’s 2020 census count. Two-thirds of Quezon City’s population, trapped, blockaded, and now starving.

Pope Leo’s appeal is clear: humanitarian relief must reach this exhausted civilian population. The blockade of food, water, and medicine must end. The international community must resist any attempt to turn Gaza into an occupied territory.

Here in the Philippines, we have our own battles — typhoons, floods, poverty, corruption, and government failure. We may feel like our compassion is already spent. But somewhere far away, children are dying not because of the climate or neglect, but because starvation has been weaponized.

Rediscovering compassion is not just about helping others — it’s about allowing ourselves to heal from our own collective trauma. When we start caring again, we reclaim part of our own humanity.

Because the real danger is not that 60,000 have died in Gaza.

The real danger is that the more they die, the less we care.

The Dangerous Illusion of “At No Cost to the People”

Wazzup Pilipinas!?

They say the most dangerous lies are the ones wrapped in the language of generosity. “At no cost to the people and the government,” they promise — as if salvation can be served for free, without hidden debts, without invisible strings. But when such words come from the mouth of a billionaire whose empire thrives on the very industries that birthed the crisis, the promise is no blessing. It is bait.

We are told not to point fingers. Yet, how can we ignore the obvious culprits? Who has been reclaiming coastlines and building over wetlands, despite repeated warnings from scientists and environmental institutions that these projects will worsen flooding? Who digs deep into the Sierra Madre for mining and quarrying, gutting the mountains that shield us from storms? Who intimidates and harasses indigenous peoples and local communities to bulldoze through questionable ventures?

These are not the actions of ordinary Filipinos struggling to make ends meet. These are the moves of corporations with unlimited resources, backed by political muscle, armed with permits that make the destructive look “legal.”

Each time another reclamation is approved, each time another forest is flattened for “development,” we are told it is for progress, for jobs, for the future. Yet the only future this ensures is one where the land is more fragile, the seas more aggressive, and the people more vulnerable. The phrase “at no cost” becomes a cruel joke — because the cost is paid not in pesos, but in lives, livelihoods, and the irreversible loss of our natural defenses.

This is not crab mentality. This is about stripping the mask off a wolf in sheep’s clothing. It is about refusing to let polished rhetoric distract us from the bloody footprints it leaves behind. For as long as the projects that shape our nation are not rooted in the well-being of our communities and the preservation of our environment, every grand promise will remain a hollow performance — one we cannot afford to applaud.