via Mariele M. Evangelista, Pressroom PH
Corruption in the Philippines is like floodwater—you know it’s coming, you brace for it, and yet every time it arrives, you’re still left drowning. The latest “solution”? With President Marcos ordering lifestyle checks starting with the DPWH, the headlines once again flash a familiar promise: accountability. But here’s the real fear—like so many things in our political landscape, what if this too is just a trend?
Lifestyle checks aren’t new. Republic Act 6713 and RA 3019 have existed for decades. They already prohibit lavish living and require the filing of Statements of Assets, Liabilities, and Net Worth (SALN). The guardrails have always been there, but the drivers keep ignoring them. The real issue is persistence. Lifestyle checks shouldn’t be like TikTok dances—viral one week, forgotten the next. If this ends up like the POGO ban (hyped then quietly buried) or the Duterte impeachment talks (loud at first, then gone), then what did we really achieve? Just another rerun of accountability theater.
And speaking of theater—look at the timing. We’re celebrating Buwan ng Wika, a month meant to honor our culture and identity. Yet in reality, the loudest language in the Philippines isn’t Filipino at all. It’s the language of excessive wealth—politicians flaunting cars, estates, and luxury vacations while ordinary people wade through literal floodwater. And instead of holding leaders accountable, the internet finds it easier to roast “nepo babies.” Fine, call out privilege; but let’s not forget who signs the billion-peso contracts that either save or sink this country.
Then comes the insult that stings most: when officials are caught, they don’t suffer. They just resign. Case in point: DPWH Secretary Manuel Bonoan. He didn’t face trial, didn’t answer to the people—he simply stepped down. Like changing your profile picture, it’s that easy. Meanwhile, if an ordinary Filipino—say, a seventy-year-old man—steals a can of sardines just to survive, he could end up behind bars. See the imbalance? The poor pay in prison time, the powerful pay in press releases.
Worse still, our leaders only seem to act when suffering becomes unbearable—when people are crying, literally sobbing, before action is taken. Why should citizens have to bleed first before the system remembers it has teeth? Isn’t prevention supposed to be better than cure? Or have we normalized waiting for tragedies just to justify reforms? Why is suffering always the ticket to change? Why must we sob before they listen?
This is why the “lifestyle check” order, though necessary, feels hollow unless it becomes consistent. Accountability can’t just trend like a hashtag, only to vanish when the next celebrity breakup distracts us. If we keep letting our outrage move with the algorithm instead of with the evidence, corruption will keep winning.
We don’t need lifestyle checks that are seasonal. We need accountability that’s stubborn, relentless, and louder than the excuses of the powerful. Because corruption in this country isn’t just about stolen money—it’s about stolen futures. And if we don’t demand consistency now, we’ll be back here again, soaked in the same flood, asking the same question: bakit ganito lagi?
