CARTOON BY: AARON PAUL C. CARIL
EDITORIAL
When the Waters Rise, Who’s Accountable?
In the Philippines, floods are no longer seasonal—they are systemic. Despite ₱545.6 billion allocated to flood control since 2022, hundreds of Filipinos still die each year from weather-related disasters. The waters rise, but so do questions about where the money goes, who benefits, and why the most vulnerable remain submerged in risk. The Senate Blue Ribbon Committee’s 2025 investigation, “Philippines Under Water,” revealed a disturbing pattern: ghost projects, contractor cartels, and kickbacks that siphon public funds before a single sandbag is laid (Philippine News Agency, 2025). In several provinces, firms received billions in contracts, yet multiple projects were found to be non-existent. Across the country, a handful of contractors cornered tens of billions in flood control deals, many allegedly operating through license-renting schemes and political patronage (MSN News, 2025).
Whistleblowers and senators alike allege that 20–25% of project funds are demanded as kickbacks at every level of approval (Philstar/MSN, 2025). That leaves barely 40% for actual implementation—often in fragmented phases that fail to protect entire river systems. In Biliran, for instance, 43 flood control projects worth ₱910 million reached only 63% completion, delayed by logistical failures and poor oversight (PIA, 2024). Meanwhile, the human cost is staggering. Cyclone Agaton (2022) killed 187 people in Western Visayas, where ₱5.59 billion had already been spent on flood mitigation (MSN, 2025). On average, 212 Filipinos die annually from floods and typhoons—despite the billions poured into infrastructure. The disconnect between budget and outcome is not just technical; it is moral.
President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. has taken a visibly assertive stance. In his 2025 State of the Nation Address, he condemned the corruption as “racketeering” and declared, “Mahiya naman kayo” to those who pocketed public funds (Philippine News Agency, 2025). He ordered a nationwide audit of flood control projects and personally inspected sites in Bulacan, where he exposed ghost infrastructure and substandard work. Divers were sent to verify the integrity of river protection structures, revealing thin concrete and dangerous gaps beneath the surface. These actions—on-site inspections, public rebukes, and fraud audits—signal a break from bureaucratic detachment and show a willingness to confront entrenched malpractice.
Yet the question remains: is this resolve institutional or episodic? While the President’s rhetoric is forceful, critics argue that systemic reform is still lacking. The Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) remains opaque in its internal accountability mechanisms. Regional Project Monitoring Committees have yet to produce public-facing reports. And despite the President’s call for transparency, many flagged contractors have yet to respond or face formal charges. Moreover, the proposed ₱71.7 billion cut to the 2026 flood control budget risks undermining long-term resilience (Rappler, 2025). Without a climate-informed master plan and independent oversight, the cycle of waste and disaster may simply repeat.
Compounding the issue is the role of congressional budget insertions. Investigations revealed that billions in flood control allocations were added during bicameral conference sessions, often without public scrutiny (Rappler, 2025). These insertions—many drawn from unprogrammed appropriations—enabled lawmakers to act as project proponents, steering funds toward favored districts and contractors. In some cases, allocations ballooned from ₱100 million to over ₱1.6 billion through repeat funding and cost padding. Worse, a confirmed conflict of interest has emerged within the Commission on Audit: the spouse of a sitting commissioner was found to be a contractor receiving ₱200 million worth of flood control projects (MSN News, 2025). This undermines the credibility of COA’s oversight and raises serious ethical concerns about the impartiality of audits.
When the waters rise, accountability must rise with them. Not just in the form of Senate hearings or viral exposés, but in sustained civic vigilance, ethical governance, and infrastructure that protects rather than deceives. The challenge is not only to punish corruption but to dismantle the conditions that allow it to thrive. Until then, the floodwaters will continue to rise—and so must our demand for accountability.