A Midnight Heist in Manila: The P142-Billion Budget Insertion That Never Was

Wazzup Pilipinas!?

It was no ordinary day at the Batasan Complex. Manila's streets were still drowned from flooding. It was a non-working holiday—quiet, even eerie. But inside the bicameral committee office, the hum of fluorescent lights masked a shockwave that would soon shake the nation.

Senate President Chiz Escudero had allegedly slid a P142-billion insertion into the 2026 national budget—not during official deliberations, not on the Senate floor—but under cover of quiet secrecy. According to whistle-blowers, he braved both mighty floods and the silence of an office closed to the public, leaning over staff shoulders to ensure the change made it into the enrolled bill. 

CCTV footage, released recently, showed a familiar silhouette: Escudero calmly walking through the North Wing of the Batasan, making his way to the bicameral staff. The footage raised more questions than answers—but it confirmed what many had whispered in outrage: he snuck in. 

The Outrage: Democracy Disrupted

“Just two percent of the budget,” he defended himself. “What’s the big deal?” A budget as vast as P6.793-trillion, he said—if it’s just 2%, is anyone really harmed?

The answer, resounding across social media and opinion columns, is yes.

Because legislation isn’t a stealth mission. Every word, every punctuation, every digit is scrutinized, debated, interpellated, revised, and voted on. To bypass that is to stand next to the goalkeeper in football while the rest of the team is on defense—it’s offside. It’s camping under the basket in basketball; a three-second violation. It’s a one-man Congress without a mandate. 

The Defense: A Demolition Job, He Claims

Escudero dismissed the allegations as a "demolition job." He claimed the total Senate amendments to the 2025 budget—earlier news reports' focus of scrutiny—totaled about P600 billion, shifting numbers all over the headlines: at one point P9 billion for Sorsogon, then P12 billion for Bulacan, then P142 billion, then P150 billion. “Which is it?” he demanded, turning the hunt for clarity into a disorienting chase. 

He insisted his so-called visit to the bicameral office was routine oversight—making sure staff were doing their jobs. As Senate President and bicam member, he said, he had the right to be there. 

The Counterpunch from the House

But the House wasn’t buying it. A spokesperson, Princess Abante, fired back: “Why does he always throw shade at us when faced with criticism? Maybe it’s better if he just answers the questions.” 

But Wait—The Flood Control Connection

Adding fuel to the fire, President Bongbong Marcos held a press briefing exposing a far larger scheme: over P500 billion in flood-control funds that went to private contractors. Top firms laughed all the way to the bank.

Shockingly, one of these contractors had recently donated P30 million to Chiz’s campaign—and later secured a P5.1 billion flood-control project contract. Now that’s a storyline with a sinister echo—“riding on a boat” while Manila’s streets flooded. 

The Chiz Paradigm: The Illusion of Innocence

When caught, Chiz’s default defense is: “My sin is small—compared to theirs, it’s nothing.” He insists that a 1% misstep is negligible. It’s a classic ploy—distract with scale, shift blame to others, and evoke sympathy for being unfairly targeted. Then he tacks on unrelated issues—like his support for Sara Duterte—to muddy the waters even further.

In his mind, uproar over process is just “mean,” an affront to his saintly intentions.

The Constitutional Crisis Unfolds

Remember the impeachment trial? In that fraught moment, Chiz refused to assert Senate jurisdiction, plunging the nation into a constitutional crisis. On his watch, the Senate became less a body of deliberation and more a one-man show. And now this bold insertion, done under cover and without transparency—it’s the final straw for critics who say: Enough. Abolish the Senate.

Final Thoughts

This is not just politics—it’s theater, with floodwaters as the backdrop, CCTV as the spotlight, and millions of pesos at stake. It’s legislative process bypassed, norms shattered, accountability obscured. And Escudero, center stage, asks: “Are we so harsh? Aren’t you bigger than the scandal?”

It’s a grand performance, but the audience is not buying the act. Because process is non-negotiable. Democracy doesn’t bend for convenience—even when the floods make the roads impassable.

Balikbayan Boxes: The Worn Boxes That Carry Hearts Across Oceans

Wazzup Pilipinas!?

In an age of instant messaging and one-click deliveries, one ritual endures with steadfast resilience: the balikbayan box. Overloaded, tightly wrapped, and often dented by the time it arrives—those dents are the scars of an emotional voyage. They’re proof that love made the journey.

From Government Program to Heartfelt Ritual

It all traces back to the 1970s, when the Marcos administration launched the "Balikbayan Program." Aimed at reconnecting overseas Filipinos with home, the initiative offered subsidized airfares, duty-free shopping, and generous baggage allowances—making the legendary pasalubong tradition even more accessible 

In the 1980s, enterprising Filipino-Americans in cities like Los Angeles and New York—first with REN International in 1981, then Port Jersey Shipping in 1982—invented the door-to-door balikbayan box service, turning what was once carried into a permanent staple of diasporic life 

And as of today, around 400,000 balikbayan boxes arrive in the Philippines every month, a tangible testament to enduring ties across the seas 

Laws, Loopholes, and Love

In 1987, Corazon Aquino’s Executive Order No. 206 amended the Tariff and Customs Code to grant tax- and duty-free privileges to balikbayan boxes sent by overseas Filipinos to their families 

Fast-forward to 2016: Customs Administrative Order 05-2016 (CAO-05-2016) and its implementing rules allowed qualified Overseas Filipinos up to three tax-free shipments a year—each not exceeding ₱150,000-worth of personal goods—if they submitted an itemized packing list (the “Information Sheet”), proof of purchase, and passport copy 

However, backlash over the cumbersome paperwork led Bureau of Customs to suspend CAO-05-2016 and its counterpart CMO 04-2017 in late 2017, reverting to the more relaxed older regulations 

Why the Balikbayan Box Still Matters

In a world where you can remit money in seconds, why endure weeks at sea?

Because unwrapping a balikbayan box is unlike any digital transfer. It’s a multisensory family affair—kids scramble for chocolates, titas fight over lotion, and neighbors drift in to feel connected. Each item, labeled with a name, is a physical love note.

One Forex Cargo executive mused, “Money is good…but a thoughtfully packaged physical item? That lasts.” Their company ships roughly 30,000 boxes monthly—and that number more than triples during the “-ber months” leading to Christmas 

Evolving Tradition, Personal Stories

The contents of these boxes tell stories: Spam, imported sneakers, USB drives, toiletries—objects picked for both necessity and prestige. In a telling anecdote, a grandmother in the U.S. traced her grandkids’ feet on paper to ensure the shoes she bought fit perfectly back home. A consumer culture born from colonial influence makes imported goods symbols of status and trust.

Many OFWs plan their boxes for months. Some younger diaspora members once viewed the tradition as outdated—but later, as recipients, they came to cherish it. For them, becoming senders felt like inheriting a legacy—sealed in packing tape.

Yet not everyone is nostalgic. A voice from Reddit put it bluntly:

“You can get most of the stuff in BB [balikbayan] boxes in the PH… I never really bothered sending Balikbayan Boxes… a lot of younger immigrants... feel the same way.” 

Still, for countless families, a balikbayan box is more than cargo—it’s the weight of memory, sacrifice, and love, arriving at their door.

The balikbayan box persists—not as a relic of tradition, but as a vibrant symbol of kinship that endures, like the overseas Filipino workers themselves, bridging distance with heart, one dented box at a time.

The Gauntlet: How Studying in Manila Becomes a Financial Survival Game in 2025

Wazzup Pilipinas!?

Still think college in Manila is just about tuition? Think again. In 2025, higher education in the Philippine capital has transformed into a high-stakes financial battle, where every student and parent is forced to play a grueling survival game. From the moment you step foot into this bustling metropolis, your wallet becomes the primary target, drained piece by agonizing piece. This isn't just about textbooks and lectures; it's about navigating a labyrinth of expenses that will test your financial resilience to its limits.

This is the raw, unvarnished breakdown every student and parent desperately needs before stepping into the city grind. Prepare to face the stark reality: Manila’s universities demand more than just your intellect; they will systematically bleed your finances dry.

The Elite Tuition Trap: Where Dreams Meet Debt 

Manila boasts some of the country's most prestigious universities, but prestige comes at a staggering price. The tuition bills alone are enough to make your jaw drop, competing fiercely with a junior employee's salary.

Ateneo de Manila University: The Pinnacle of Priciness

Ateneo de Manila University stands as one of the priciest schools in the country. Even without factoring in rent or transport, a semestral bill can easily rival a junior employee's income.

Base tuition is at ₱106,742, with basic fees of ₱18,437 and other charges amounting to ₱8,074. This brings most programs to over ₱133,000 per semester. 

Extra-heavy loads or specialty subjects can significantly inflate this estimate.

For those pursuing higher education, graduate programs are charged per unit and can skyrocket to ₱70,000 for a single term.

De La Salle University: The Unit-Based Rollercoaster 

At De La Salle University, the price tag climbs rapidly depending on your degree and your chosen load. The unit-based system, if not carefully managed, can truly give you a heart attack.

At ₱3,604 per unit, an 18 to 21-unit semester will set you back between ₱102,000 to ₱113,000.

Lab subjects are an additional burden, adding ₱12,000 to ₱15,000 more.

Science and engineering courses often come with even more fees on top of tuition, piling on the financial pressure.

University of Santo Tomas: Slightly More Affordable, Still a Hurdle

The University of Santo Tomas offers a glimmer of hope with slightly lower rates compared to Ateneo or La Salle, but make no mistake, the real cost still stacks up fast for many.

Depending on your program, tuition ranges from ₱50,000 to ₱80,000 per semester.

Beware of college-specific charges, lab fees, and even PE uniforms, which are often billed separately, adding hidden costs to your initial estimates.

University of the Philippines: Tuition-Free, But Far From Free 

The University of the Philippines is famously tuition-free for most undergraduates, a beacon of hope for many aspiring students. However, this doesn't mean it’s truly free. The rest of life in Manila isn't, and that's where the financial strain truly hits.

Students still have to shell out between ₱3,000 to ₱10,000 in registration and student fees per semester.

When you factor in housing, food, and daily expenses, many UP students still find themselves spending a daunting ₱75,000 to ₱100,000 per semester. The "free tuition" only covers a fraction of the actual cost of living and studying.

Where You Lay Your Head: The Cost of a Roof Over Your Dreams 

Your choice of accommodation can literally define your entire student experience in Manila, and it's a significant slice of your budget.

Shared dorms with basic amenities are the most budget-friendly option, starting at ₱3,500 per month. However, they often come with a trade-off: a noticeable lack of privacy and comfort.

Condos near major campuses like Taft and Katipunan are popular, but they come with a hefty price tag, ranging from ₱12,000 to ₱20,000 monthly. These are usually shared among two or more people to cut costs.

For those dreaming of solitude, living alone in a studio unit will set you back a minimum of ₱25,000 or more per month—and that's not including utilities.

The Daily Grind: Eating, Commuting, and the Silent Budget Bleed 

Tuition and rent are just the tip of the iceberg. The daily expenses of a student in Manila quickly add up, turning your allowance into a constant battleground.

Eating Out Daily? Say Goodbye to Your Allowance by Midterms 

Food isn't free, and neither is your social life.

The typical meal costs at least ₱100, meaning you're spending ₱300 a day just to stay full.

Over a full semester, this can add up to anywhere from ₱30,000 to ₱50,000, depending on how often you dine out or buy drinks.

While cooking could save money, many dorms don't allow it or simply lack the space, pushing students towards more expensive options.

Commuting Daily: Time and Money Up in Smoke 

Even without rent, the daily commute can rapidly deplete your allowance and your energy.

Short-distance commutes cost ₱15 to ₱40 one way, depending on how many transfers you have to make.

For most students, a monthly transport budget ranges from ₱2,000 to ₱3,500.

Late-night Grab rides, especially after organizational events or exams, can easily cost ₱150 to ₱300 in a single trip, a significant hit for a student's budget.

Utilities, Load, and Laundry: The Quiet Budget Killers 

These "small" things silently but surely bleed your savings dry.

Shared bills for Wi-Fi, electricity, and water average ₱1,500 to ₱3,500 monthly, especially if you have air-conditioning.

Laundry can cost ₱400 to ₱600 per month if you rely on laundromats.

Data and mobile load for school, group chats, and video calls? Easily ₱500 to ₱1,000 per month.

The Sneaky Costs: School Expenses That Don't Show Up on Your Tuition Slip 

Nobody tells you about the "miscellaneous" fees—the most annoying and unpredictable part of the financial survival game. These are the expenses that sneak up on you, often coming straight out of your pocket, even if you hadn't budgeted for them.

Organization dues, thesis printing, costume requirements, props, and random contributions are often unexpected out-of-pocket expenses.

Some professors still insist on printed submissions, even if the syllabus says otherwise, forcing students to spend on printing services.

Expect to spend at least ₱1,000 per month on things you didn't budget for, making financial planning a constant guessing game.

The Bottom Line: A Financial Marathon

Studying in Manila in 2025 isn't just about academic prowess; it's a test of financial endurance. From the eye-watering tuition fees of elite institutions to the often-overlooked daily expenses, every peso counts. This isn't just higher education; it's a financial marathon where only the most prepared and resourceful will truly survive and thrive. Be warned, be prepared, and be ready to fight for every single peso. Your wallet will thank you.