Concerned government officials, once again caught red-handed in anomalous deals, are walking away unscathed while ordinary Filipinos toil under backbreaking taxes. This has sparked outrage, reaching a point where patience is fraying thin and the nation teeters on the edge of collective fury. The Filipino public, weary and betrayed, is no longer inclined to turn the other cheek.
We have seen corruption before, yes—but never has it metamorphosed so openly, so shamelessly, in the public eye. Senators embroiled in pork barrel scandals, cabinet members tainted by overpriced projects, and local leaders fattening their pockets from ghost projects: these are no longer whispers of rumor but facts laid bare by investigative reports, COA audits, and even Senate hearings broadcast live. The brazenness is staggering. Politicians have become so accustomed to impunity that they parade their wealth with vulgar display—convoys of SUVs, lavish mansions, children studying abroad—while millions of Filipinos line up at community pantries just to get by.
Corruption in this country is not a hidden termite gnawing quietly at the foundations. It is a ravenous beast that devours in broad daylight, daring anyone to stop it. And the people, after decades of endurance, may finally be sharpening their claws. Indonesia has already shown the way, with students and workers taking to the streets in Jakarta to protest against leaders who enriched themselves while the nation suffered. We Filipinos are not blind neighbors. We are watching, comparing, measuring our own patience against theirs. The trigger has not been pulled here yet, but the hand is trembling.
What makes this situation unbearable is not merely the stealing of money. It is the stealing of futures. Every peso lost to corruption is a classroom not built, a hospital left in ruins, a rice subsidy that never reaches the hungry. Worse, these debts balloon with the passing of time. And when the last centavo is accounted for, the corrupt will be gone—jetting off to safer havens, their loot stashed in foreign banks—leaving the poor farmer in Leyte and the street vendor in Tacloban to shoulder the burden of repayment. It is the same old story of betrayal, repeated across administrations, a cycle that corrodes the very idea of governance.
At this stage, Filipinos are not simply angry—they are exhausted. The daily grind already demands so much, yet they must also watch as their hard-earned taxes vanish like smoke. The erosion of patience is near total; citizens no longer believe that “good governance” is possible within the present setup. This cynicism is dangerous, for once faith in institutions collapses, people will seek other ways to right the wrongs. History tells us that revolts are not born from hunger alone but from the insult of injustice heaped upon it.
I cannot help but note the symbolism of volcanoes in our land. They lie dormant for decades, even centuries, gathering pressure in silence, until the day they erupt with unrelenting force. The Filipino spirit is much the same—quiet, forgiving, endlessly patient. But every dormant volcano has its breaking point. And when it happens, it will not be a polite negotiation but an explosion that reshapes the landscape. Corrupt leaders who ignore this truth do so at their own peril.
Humor, too, creeps in amidst the rage. One wonders: do these corrupt officials think they are invisible? Their swollen bellies and sudden fortunes say otherwise. They are like carabaos trying to disguise themselves as goats—obvious, lumbering, impossible to hide. And yet, the absurdity is that many still get reelected, as if the electorate has resigned itself to a cruel joke. But even jokes, when repeated too often, stop being funny.
So where do we go from here? Certainly, violent upheaval is a path that comes with enormous risk, but neither can we sit idle as corruption continues to metastasize. The wiser course is sustained vigilance: mass mobilization, stronger laws, public accountability, fearless journalism, and a citizenry unafraid to demand justice in the streets if all else fails. Let the corrupt hear this clearly—the Filipino has been patient, yes, but not endlessly so. The volcano rumbles, and the people are listening to its call.
