How long can they wait?

Three years since the shocking disappearance of over 30 sabungeros — cockfighting aficionados who vanished under mysterious and chilling circumstances — the question still echoes across the nation: Where are they? And more urgently, why does justice seem just as missing as the men themselves?

What began as an isolated case of one or two sabungeros gone missing has ballooned into a national scandal of chilling proportions. The disappearances, believed to be linked to online e-sabong operations, have since revealed a tangled web of potential high-profile conspirators, police involvement and what appears to be a cover-up operation so brazen it seems ripped from a crime thriller.

Recently, a new bombshell dropped: 15 police officers were implicated as accomplices in the disappearances. Yes, the very individuals sworn to uphold the law may have played an active role in abducting these men — many of whom were just ordinary fathers, sons and breadwinners trying their luck in the brutal world of cockfighting. This is not just an institutional embarrassment; it’s a moral collapse.

Even more eyebrow-raising is the constant surfacing of names previously untouchable in Philippine society. Gambling tycoon Charlie “Atong” Ang has once again found himself under scrutiny, this time more forcefully, as testimonies point to his possible involvement. Alongside him is actress and former girlfriend Gretchen Barretto, whose alleged connection to the case has drawn a mix of public intrigue and disbelief.

Both have repeatedly denied any role in the disappearances, but in the court of public opinion — and more importantly, the testimonies of witnesses — they are no longer peripheral figures. They are central.

Still, as more names are dropped and fingers pointed, the bigger picture remains obscured. Who is the real mastermind? Are we looking at a turf war gone wrong, or a systematic operation to silence whistleblowers or those who got in too deep in the murky waters of online gambling?

While the government has made occasional statements expressing concern, what is conspicuously absent is any significant breakthrough. No bodies. No closure. No accountability. What the families of the missing sabungeros are left with is a slow drip of rumors, conflicting testimonies and endless grief.

They show up at Senate hearings holding placards, hoping to catch the media’s lens, praying someone in power is paying attention. But how long can they wait?

The Duterte administration once used the “iron fist” approach to instill fear among criminals. Ironically, in this case, the state’s agents are among the accused. The Marcos administration now faces a test of political will: Will it pursue those who are untouchable, even if they are entrenched in gambling empires or old-money social circles? Or will it settle for scapegoats and small fry, content with the illusion of progress?

Justice delayed is justice denied. But in this case, justice isn’t just delayed — it’s been shoved into the shadows, perhaps gagged and handcuffed, like the sabungeros themselves may have been.

The families deserve more than empty condolences and vague updates. They deserve answers. They deserve the truth. They deserve to bring their loved ones home, dead or alive.

Until that happens, every day without closure is another crime in itself.