Wazzup Pilipinas!?
A crocodile emerges from murky waters, jaws wide open, reaching for dangling bait. The metaphor is as old as it is accurate—we are about to be played. Again.
The Predictable Performance
The corruption script in the Philippines has become so formulaic it borders on insulting. A scandal erupts—this time involving flood control funds—and suddenly the entire nation is gripped by outrage. The President acts shocked, Congress calls for hearings, and media outlets cover every dramatic moment like a primetime telenovela. We've seen this movie before, and we know exactly how it ends.
Act 1: The Announcement When public pressure becomes unbearable, the administration has no choice but to respond. President Marcos promises investigations, vowing transparency as public anger reaches a boiling point. "We will investigate," comes the familiar refrain—the same words spoken during the Hello Garci scandal when Arroyo promised a Truth Commission in 2005.
Act 2: The Show Officials are summoned, hearings go live, and media transforms genuine concerns into entertainment. Politicians play their assigned roles perfectly while the cameras roll. The theater of justice unfolds exactly as it did during the 2013 Pork Barrel Scam hearings, when senators delivered fiery speeches while the accused sat stoically before the cameras.
Act 3: Sacrifices A few officials get suspended, some contractors face charges, but the big players remain untouched. The people grow momentarily satisfied, believing "something" is finally happening. It's enough to buy time—just as it was during the 2017 Dengvaxia scandal when DOH Secretary Janette Garin and others were charged while the larger system remained intact.
Act 4: The Independent Body When outrage refuses to die, an "independent" commission emerges, headed by respected figures who promise real change. But it's still the same system investigating itself. Cory Aquino created the PCGG in 1986 to recover Marcos wealth—billions vanished with little recovery. Arroyo formed the Davide Commission in 2001 after Estrada's corruption was exposed, another "independent" probe that looked impressive on paper.
Act 5: The Thrill This administration or the new Independent Commission for Infrastructure will parade "big names" tied to ghost projects and campaign donors. Headlines explode, media coverage intensifies, and citizens feel justice is finally within reach. In 2011, a fact-finding commission exposed military officials for pocketing billions in slush funds, parading generals and cabinet members before televised hearings—exactly like today's flood control probe.
Act 6: Sentencing A few politicians get convicted to appease the masses. A senator here, a congressman there—just enough to make the system appear functional. Citizens celebrate, praise the government, and political dynasties potentially benefit from appearing tough on corruption, riding public approval toward the next election cycle. The Pork Barrel Scam saw Napoles imprisoned while Revilla was acquitted, Estrada got bail, and Enrile was released. Key political figures returned to power as if nothing had happened.
The Long Wait
Then comes the most predictable part: trials stretch on for years. Hearings get postponed, evidence mysteriously disappears, witnesses vanish without explanation. By the time new leadership takes office, yesterday's scandal becomes old news. Media attention shifts elsewhere, public interest wanes, and billions in stolen funds fade into background noise.
The Fertilizer Fund Scam from 2004 exemplifies this pattern perfectly. Jocjoc Bolante's case dragged on for over a decade, ultimately ending with barely a slap on the wrist. Those initially "convicted" end up comfortable at home rather than behind bars, living off stolen wealth while ordinary citizens wake up at 4 AM just to survive. They don't report to work, they don't struggle, they don't sacrifice. Instead, they enjoy house arrest, perhaps watching television or laughing at the very complaints citizens post online.
The Quiet Ending
Eventually, acquittals come without fanfare—no breaking news, no front-page headlines. Just quiet releases buried beneath other stories. The same people we believed were finally being held accountable suddenly walk free, smiling at society's notoriously short memory.
We're conditioned to believe we live in a functioning democracy where education matters and justice exists. But this is the grand illusion. We were never meant to win. The system operates as designed—recycling scandals until citizens grow too exhausted to fight back.
Breaking the Script
The cycle continues only because we allow it. Every time we stay silent, justice becomes mere theater. Every time we forget, corruption becomes normalized. Our individual voices may seem insignificant, but they grow stronger each time we speak up, each time we refuse to look away.
History shows us that every meaningful fight began with just a few people refusing to accept the status quo. We may feel outnumbered now, but if we reject silence, if we refuse to be fooled again, then perhaps—finally—this predictable script can be broken.
The flood control scandal offers another test: will we follow the familiar pattern of outrage, hope, and eventual amnesia? Or will we break the cycle that has trapped our nation in perpetual corruption?
The choice, as always, remains ours. But silence is surrender. We are not powerless—we are the people, and we have a voice. The question is whether we'll use it before the curtain falls on yet another performance of this tired, predictable play.
Ross is known as the Pambansang Blogger ng Pilipinas - An Information and Communication Technology (ICT) Professional by profession and a Social Media Evangelist by heart.
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