The scene is heartbreakingly familiar: desperate Pinoys clutching manila folders, queuing outside a television station, hoping media personalities will deliver the justice that government institutions have failed to provide.

This phenomenon, which I call the “Tulfo Effect,” exposes a gaping hole in our democratic system. The Office of the Ombudsman, meant to be the people’s tribunal, has been relegated to a sideshow, overshadowed by social media influencers and TV hosts who have become the de facto champions of the aggrieved.

This is not a sign that Filipinos have grown ignorant or apathetic. No, far from it. The rise of the Tulfo Effect reflects the colossal failure of the current Ombudsman, Samuel Martires, to fulfill his mandate as the tanod ng bayan — the people’s defender.

The people no longer understand what the Ombudsman does, or how it fits into the machinery of governance. Instead of turning to this constitutional office, they seek solace in microphones and cameras, airing their grievances to an audience that empathizes but cannot enact anything.

The Ombudsman’s core mission is to uphold trust in government, reinforcing the constitutional tenet that public service is a public trust. Yet, under the shameless leadership of Martires, the office allowed the bureaucracy to become a punchline.

Scroll through social media and you’ll see it: government-related news drowned in laughing emojis, a collective sneer at a system that feels broken. Martires has failed to bridge the gap between the people and the institution meant to protect them, leaving the Ombudsman a silent, impotent bystander in the fight against corruption.

To be effective, an Ombudsman MUST embody three qualities: transparency, empathy, and courage. Martires has fallen short on all counts.

His lack of transparency has left the public legally illiterate, unaware of their rights or how to seek redress. Instead of educating citizens, Martires has turned the Ombudsman into a passive “scene of the crime” investigator, incapable of preventing corruption and abuses before they take root.

Imagine an Ombudsman who holds public hearings for high-profile corruption cases, where the evidence is laid bare, witnesses are questioned openly, and deliberations are transparent. Such openness would strike fear in the corrupt and restore faith in the institution, with justice hinging on facts, not political clout or wealth. It also serves an educational function, creating an informed citizenry capable of recognizing corruption and understanding their rights. When people see and understand how their watchdog operates, they become better equipped to demand accountability from the whole of government.

Empathy, too, is critical. Martires, despite his legal expertise, has shown little empathy. His indifference and lack of willingness to listen have alienated the very people he serves. His inaction has had dire consequences, notably in the case of former President Rodrigo Duterte.

By failing to address the extrajudicial killings and tokhang violations, Martires forced the victims to seek justice beyond our borders. In a way, he is responsible for Duterte’s incarceration at the International Criminal Court.

His misplaced loyalty allowed Duterte to pursue a brutal anti-drug campaign, to push a far-right dogma that wrongly framed addiction as the root of societal woes while ignoring the real culprit: corruption.

The direct correlation is clear — corruption fuels poverty and poverty breeds drug addiction. The drug crisis was as much an Ombudsman’s responsibility as it was a matter of law enforcement, yet Martires turned a blind eye.

Finally, courage is the backbone of an effective Ombudsman. Martires’ lack of it has led to the death of accountability in public service. My years in government have taught me that bureaucracies mirror their leaders. The entire civil service adapts to the system their leader sets accordingly.

As Lieutenant Daniels in the HBO series, The Wire, aptly put it, “You show loyalty, they learn loyalty. You show them it’s about the work, it’ll be about the work. You show them some other kind of game, then that’s the game they’ll play.”

Martires’s pusillanimous leadership has left the bureaucracy both directionless and uninspired.

A fearless and relentless leader is what the Office of the Ombudsman needs. A leader who would push the system toward a courageous stand that ripples through every agency of government.

The next Ombudsman must ignite an energy shift, an obsessive drive to restore the office as the people’s true sumbungan. No longer should Filipinos have to line up outside television studios, clutching their brown envelopes in desperation.

Instead, they could march to Senator Miriam Santiago Avenue, where a fearless and relentless Ombudsman awaits, ready to fight for them.

The Tulfo Effect must end because the Ombudsman must rise. The battle cry of the aggrieved must be “ISUMBONG MO KAY OMBUDSMAN.” This is the true embodiment of the constitutional design upon which our democracy is founded.