Kwentong chicheria
Critics saw it as a calculated move, suggesting that she aimed to depict herself as a martyr while implicating powerful political enemies in an imagined conspiracy.

Once perceived as a symbol of strength and unity, the Marcos-Duterte tandem, sadly, has crumbled under public scrutiny.
The rift, which began with subtle political disagreements, escalated as Vice President Sara Duterte openly criticized the administration’s policies. She resigned as DepEd secretary, distanced herself from Marcos allies, and began carving a distinct and oppositional narrative. Her statement about a potential assassination plot adds a new, darker dimension to this saga.
Duterte recently hinted that if someone takes her out — yes, as in eliminated, assassinated, sent to the great beyond — it would logically follow that President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. might find himself in a similar predicament.
Critics saw it as a calculated move, suggesting that she aimed to depict herself as a martyr while implicating powerful political enemies in an imagined conspiracy. Supporters, however, interpreted it as a grim warning of the dirty underbelly of Philippine politics, where power plays and betrayals are as common as karaoke sessions.
Duterte’s statement is the verbal equivalent of throwing a grenade into an already tense room. The insinuation —delivered with the seriousness of someone discussing tomorrow’s traffic jam — painted a picture of dark forces lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce on the nation’s top leaders.
Some took her words as a dire warning. After all, assassinations in Philippine politics aren’t just movie plots. The nation’s history is littered with fallen leaders, from Ninoy Aquino’s shocking airport death to numerous local politicians taken out by rivals who preferred bullets to ballots. So when Duterte spoke, people listened, albeit with varying reactions.
President Marcos, known for his composed public demeanor, did not shy away from responding. He dismissed the Vice President’s statement as “kwentong chicheria” (snack-time gossip) and “burak ng pulitika” (the mud of politics), phrases that encapsulate his disdain for what he perceives as unsubstantiated, attention-seeking rhetoric.
Marcos’ response suggests an effort to discredit Duterte’s claims without delving into the deeper political rift.
Calling the assassination scenario gossip trivializes the weight of Duterte’s statement but also positions him as someone unwilling to entertain conspiracy theories. By labeling it “burak ng pulitika,” he emphasizes the detrimental effect of such pronouncements on governance and public trust.
The beauty of Philippine politics lies in its knack for blurring the line between entertainment and governance.
Is Duterte genuinely worried about being targeted, or is this part of a larger political maneuver to solidify her base? Is Marcos really unfazed, or is his dismissive tone hiding deeper anxieties about what this means for his presidency?
Assassination threats, real or imagined, have historically been used to rally supporters and paint oneself as the underdog fighting against unseen enemies.
Duterte’s warning could be read as an attempt to remind everyone that she’s still a force to be reckoned with.
Meanwhile, Marcos’ response seems designed to project stability — after all, the last thing he needs is for people to think his government is under siege.
As usual, it’s the Filipino public that is left scratching their heads, wondering how these pronouncements will improve their lives.
Assassination threats aren’t exactly comforting when inflation is high, and the MRT still breaks down regularly. But, hey, at least it gives everyone something to talk about while waiting for their jeepneys.
Some people sympathize with Duterte, seeing her as a maverick calling out political enemies lurking in the shadows. Others roll their eyes, wondering why the country’s second-highest official is sounding like the plot of a Netflix thriller. And then there are those who side with Marcos, applauding his no-nonsense dismissal of what they view as unnecessary drama.
In the end, this unfortunate saga will continue but will leave more questions than answers. Is there a real threat to the nation’s leaders, or is this just another layer of political theater? Will the Marcos-Duterte rift grow wider, or is this all part of an elaborate strategy to keep us guessing?
Whatever the case, one thing is clear: the show must go on. Assassination threats, kwentong chicheria, and all the burak of politics are just part of the spectacle. And in the Philippines, where politics often feels like the longest-running soap opera, we’re all just the audience — eating chicheria, sipping soda, and waiting for the next twist.
e-mail:mannyangeles27@gmail.com
