In the aftermath of Typhoon Carina which wreaked havoc across Metro Manila and nearby regions, a singular question echoes through the inundated streets and makeshift shelters: “What happened to all the flood control projects and the billions of pesos spent in the last two decades?” Cito Beltran’s poignant inquiry in his Philstar column mirrors the collective bewilderment and frustration of a nation submerged not only by floodwater but also by the weight of unfulfilled promises and squandered resources.
Philstar columnist Ana Marie Pamintuan further amplifies this concern, urging her readers to consider: “Where do our taxes go?” In the face of such devastation, this question is more than rhetorical, it is a demand for accountability, a cry for transparency a system mired in obfuscation and greed.
Philstar columnist Jarius Bondoc, another voice in the chorus of disillusionment, sheds light on the murky depths of political crookedness. “Baguio City Mayor Benjie Magalong exposed [politicos and bureaucrats’] greed: 40% kickback didn’t satisfy them. They even acted as constructors and suppliers, for 15% of added loot. They left only 45% for the infrastructure works.”
Bondoc’s revelation is a stark indictment of a system prioritizing personal gain over public welfare. In 2022, the fund allocated for flood control infrastructure was P129 billion; in 2023, it increased to P183 billion; and in 2024, it reached P245 billion. Despite these substantial investments, the floods have continued to devastate homes, businesses, and livelihoods, underscoring a grim reality: the funds meant to protect the people have been diverted into the coffers of the corrupt. More awfully, as Pope Francis laments, “Corruption is paid by the poor.”
UNDERWATER
Beltran, too, does not mince words. “My answer, if I may be so bold, ‘they are all under water,’ while more than half the money went to the pockets of politicians, local and national government officials, and contractors and suppliers.” This bleak imagery captures the crux of the problem – a nation figuratively drowning in corruption while submerging by floods.
The search for a solution to the flood control conundrum yields a variety of suggestions, ranging from the practical – ‘Metro Manila flood control plan needs updates” – to the routine – “Development of a more robust and efficient drainage system” – to the facetious – “Line up all the crocodiles and their contractors on the wall then fire at will.” Yet, the solution to the problem remains elusive.
What is the root of the problem? Just as Steve Jobs once said, “If you define the problem correctly you almost have the solution,” so too, Albert Einstein once explained, “If I had an hour to solve a problem, I’d spend 55 minutes thinking about the problem and 5 minutes thinking about solutions.”
A BLINDING FLASH OF THE OBVIOUS
I propose that the root of the problem is corruption – a blinding flash of the obvious – an elephant in the room. By heeding Job’s logic and Einstein’s counsel, we begin to unravel the complexities of corruption that have left our nation vulnerable. Angel Gurria, the Secretary-General of the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD), aptly stated, “Integrity, transparency, and the fight against corruption have to be part of the culture. They have to be thought of as fundamental values.”
It underscores the need for a culture shift, where honesty and accountability are not merely aspirational but ingrained in the very fabric of our society. It ought to eat any Pinoy’s heart to read this report: the Philippines is losing around P700 billion, or around 20% of the country’s total budget appropriation, yearly, due to corruption.
Jennifer Lawrence, in her advocacy, reminds us of the pervasive nature of the scourge: “We need to tell each other stories, we need to show that everyone – our neighbors, our families, our community leaders – everyone we know is touched by corruption.” Her words call for a communal awakening, a shared recognition that corruption is not an abstract concept but a daily reality that affects us all. It is a story that permeates every layer of society, demanding that we confront it openly and with resolve.
UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL
Let me share an extraordinary encounter with corruption from my corporate years, a memory that remains vivid even after many years. I was managing our company’s housing project for employees when my wife approached me with a pressing request: she wanted to build our own house. Her plea was justified; our growing family of five then was cramped in a termite-infested, small apartment. Yet, I hesitated. Constructing our house while overseeing the company’s housing project presented a potential conflict of interest.
Despite my reservations, I commenced the construction of our house. As a civil engineer, I knew it would take time to find another project within our manufacturing-focused company. Two factors reassured me: first, the construction of our house was part of my wife’s housing benefit from her bank employer; second, our house was being built along a national highway, making the construction process transparent and visible to all.
Eventually, I relocated to another project area and moved my family into our newly constructed home. Everything seemed to have fallen into place, or so I thought.
Years later, an unexpected twist unfolded. My wife was engrossed in a bowling tournament when a familiar local figure from the Commission on Audit (COA) approached her. The lady initiated a conversation, leading to a startling revelation:
“What’s your husband’s initials? RMS?” the lady inquired.
“Yes,” my wife responded.
“Don’t you know I audited him?”
“No. Why?”
“I received instructions from the top due to a letter requesting an audit of your husband.”
“Hala! We know nothing about it.”
“But nothing came out of my investigation. Everything is above board. No worries. I didn’t find any discrepancies. I just wanted you to know. That’s all. You can forget the whole thing.”
With that, the conversation ended, and the lady disappeared into the crowd.
ANTI-CORRUPTION DOSE
What can we learn from my story? It’s possible to steer clear of corruption. Here’s my version of Einstein’s five-minute-thinking solution: When someone becomes a Christian, he or she becomes a brand-new person inside. He or she is not the same anymore. A new life has begun (2 Cor 5:17). No more corruption, among others.
How? My wife and I joined a Christian community, Couples for Christ. There are other ways too.
Two profound illustrations of “a new life had begun”: One is a New York Times cartoon depicting a man walking inside a shopping mall, oblivious to the worldly temptations around him. The cartoon’s caption: Detachment. The other is a picture of a small boy gazing at a rare painting on the wall, wondering about the one fish swimming against the flow of the rest of the school of fish.
A sprinkle of this solution is evident in President Bongbong Marcos’s 82-minute State of the Nation Address (SONA). It’s encapsulated in a nine-word wisdom at the end of his speech:
“Lagi po natin ipaglaban ang tama at ang mabuti.” (Let us always fight for what is right and good.)
Though people might miss the essence, it’s not just a wrapper, it’s the gift.
Leo Tolstoy's pearl of wisdom is a pinpoint parting shot:
"Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself."
Content put together in collaboration with ChatGPT
Head collage photos courtesy of Philippine Star, The Guardian, & Adobe Stock.
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