In a country hit by an average of 20 typhoons each year, flood control should be a matter of survival. But today, here in the Philippines, it has become just another way for the powerful to make money.
Every time it rains hard, streets turn into rivers, homes get swallowed by water, and children miss school. But behind all this is a much bigger flood — one made of corruption, broken promises, and betrayal.
In today’s Senate investigation into flood control projects uncovered something deeply alarming. Over ₱10 billion in contracts were awarded to just 15 companies — out of more than 2,400 accredited contractors. How did such a small group manage to get such a large piece of the pie? That’s not bad luck. That’s a warning sign — one we can no longer ignore.
Worse still, more than 60% of these projects had unclear descriptions or were listed in places different from where the actual work was done — yet somehow had identical contract amounts. That’s not carelessness. That’s a system designed to cheat.
So who benefits from all this?
Not the families stuck on rooftops. Not the farmers who lose their crops. Not the workers who get paid little to do dangerous jobs. The ones who benefit are those sitting in office chairs and boardrooms — people with ties to construction companies that keep winning government deals year after year.
Some lawmakers are connected to firms that have raked in billions in public funds. Others have grown incredibly wealthy despite modest government salaries — with reports of expensive homes abroad and lavish lifestyles that ordinary Filipinos could never dream of. And yet, some of them even claim to speak for poor and working-class communities. It’s an insult.
The Senate isn’t any cleaner. Reports show big campaign donations from contractors — donations that were followed by those same companies landing fat government contracts. Meanwhile, politically favored firms keep dominating projects in key areas tied to the country’s most powerful families. It’s a well-oiled cycle of favors, deals, and silence.
This isn’t just corruption. It’s collusion. Lawmakers, private companies, and government agencies are all part of a system that turns every flood into a business opportunity. While ordinary people suffer, others make a fortune.
And the result? Flood control structures that collapse after one typhoon. Riverwalls marked “complete” that don’t even exist. Projects that look good on paper but are never built. The truth is, many of these projects are not meant to protect people — they’re meant to funnel money.
Every year, we see the same scenes: waist-deep floods in the cities, crops wiped out in the provinces, schools forced to cancel classes. Food prices go up. Jobs are lost. Lives are at risk. And yet, nothing changes — because the system was never built to help us.
Yes, President Marcos Jr. has now called for an investigation. But what good is that if no one is held accountable? In the Philippines, investigations often end with press releases — not prison sentences. Justice rarely sees the light of day.
This time, it must be different.
I stand with the public in calling for a full, honest, and independent probe into flood control projects. No more cover-ups. No more excuses. Those who abused public funds must be named, tried, and punished — whether they sit in high office or own the companies behind the mess.
Let’s stop pretending corruption is “just how things are.” It’s not culture. It’s a decision — and it costs lives.
Every collapsed dike, every fake project, every stolen peso is a betrayal of the Filipino people. Typhoons may be beyond our control. But corruption isn’t.
It’s time we demand a government that protects us from the storm — not one that profits from our pain.
