For the past three years, a shameless pattern has stained the national budget, and the 2025 General Appropriations Act (GAA) marks the fourth chapter in this saga of greed.

Bloated with unprogrammed appropriations (UA), this budget has ballooned beyond reason, its fiscal space devoured by massive insertions engineered by a Congress drunk with power.

The insertions have been going on for the past three years, according to budget transparency advocate Zy-za Suzara, who was invited as an amicus curiae or friend of the court to the ongoing oral arguments at the Supreme Court on the diversion of government-owned and controlled corporation (GOCC) funds to cover UA shortfalls.

One of the items that Congress placed in the UA is the Rice Competitiveness Enhancement Program (RCEP). This was subsequently vetoed by President Ferdinand Marcos Jr.

Many of the items in line with the development goals of the administration were placed under the unprogrammed allocations.

“How can game-changing strategic projects be implemented if allocations and funding for those specific line items are in the UA which essentially does not have guaranteed cash cover?” Suzara asked.

The UA is a form of fiscal black hole where accountability is sucked into oblivion.

What started out as a tool for flexibility has morphed into a trough for patronage, choking the life out of the nation’s development dreams.

The RCEP supposedly provides a lifeline for farmers and is a pillar of agricultural progress.

The Bicameral Conference Committee (Bicam) tucked it into the UA, only for President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. to strike it down with a veto but the damage runs deeper.

Countless other initiatives aligned with the administration’s development goals, projects meant to lift Filipinos from poverty, were similarly sent to budgetary limbo.

Suzara asked: “How can game-changing strategic projects be implemented if allocations and funding for those specific line items are marooned in unprogrammed appropriations, essentially devoid of guaranteed cash?” The answer is: they cannot. And that is by design.

Ordinary Filipinos are reduced to groveling at the feet of legislators, mayors and barangay chairmen, forced into humiliating lines alongside the very politicians who hoard the budget’s bounty.

The poor, the displaced and the desperate have to line up outside the doors of their representatives in Congress or the officials they elected to City Hall to beg for healthcare that barely heals, meager ayuda from TUPAD (Tulong Panghanapbuhay sa Ating Disadvantaged/Displaced Workers), and fleeting relief from AKAP (Ayuda Para sa Kapos ang Kita Program).

These are the soft project insertions, the crumbs the Bicameral Conference Committee sprinkled around to appease the masses while ensuring that their favored allies’ coffers overflow.

It’s a cruel instance of patronage, where the powerful feast and the powerless plead.

This budget, rather than forging sustainable solutions, props up band-aid programs — short-term fixes that mock the nation’s deepening crises.

The degradation of education festers unchecked, classrooms crumble while commodity prices soar, strangling Filipino families.

Instead of confronting these wounds with bold, lasting reforms, the 2025 GAA pours billions into politically expedient handouts.

Patronage politics dangles hope just out of reach while strangling any chance for real progress. This is not improvement — it’s survival dressed up as generosity.

“The budget is not for electioneering,” a voice of reason cries out. “It is supposed to impact the long-term quality of life of Filipinos.”

The yearly budget’s purpose has been hijacked. Government agencies, meant to proactively deliver services to the people, sit idle or complicit with those who manipulate the budget.

The 2025 national budget, riddled with abuse and stripped of vision, is a reflection not of aspiration, but of exploitation.