
Our country has long been trapped in a vicious cycle of corruption, outrage, and forgetfulness — a cycle that has crippled our politics and eroded public trust. From the euphoric triumph of the 1986 EDSA People Power Revolution to the recurring scandals that continue to plague our nation, our quest for genuine systemic change remains frustratingly elusive.
In 1986, and again in 2001, millions of Filipinos poured into the streets, demanding accountability and the removal of leaders seen as corrupt, abusive, and unfit to govern. These uprisings were perceived globally as proof of our people’s courage and unity. They were thought to have been turning points in our democratic journey.
Yet decades later, what has truly changed? The same old script plays on repeat: corruption scandals, temporary public outrage, trials that drag on for years, and eventually —absolution, rehabilitation and political resurrection.
The stories of the prominent political figures who were involved reveal the depth of this malaise.
One was ousted, convicted of plunder, pardoned and later returned as a city mayor. Another, entangled in a web of corruption cases, not only regained his freedom but even came back as a powerful figure in Congress.
Their re-emergence raises disturbing questions: Was justice ever served? Or have we, as a people, allowed ourselves to forget too quickly and forgive too easily?
This same troubling pattern is visible in more recent corruption cases involving senators and lawmakers. Some were jailed, paraded as examples of justice in action — only to be acquitted, reinstated, and welcomed back into positions of power.
Each acquittal chips away at public faith, reinforcing the perception that accountability in our country is selective, temporary, and ultimately hollow.
The bigger tragedy, however, is not in the failure of our institutions of justice, but in our collective complicity. Too often, public outrage burns bright but also fades fast. Too often, we trade accountability for entertainment, treating scandals like fleeting news, periodic cycles rather than national reckonings.
Our democratic power lies not just in ousting leaders when the streets seethe with anger, but in sustaining vigilance long after the protests have ended.
Breaking this cycle requires more than symbolism. It demands structural reform: stronger institutions, faster and more independent courts, ironclad safeguards against political dynasties, and a citizenry unwilling to settle for recycled leaders.
Real change means ensuring that corruption carries permanent adverse consequences — not merely a temporary stain easily wiped clean by time, money, and political influence.
Our country must finally choose: do we remain a nation mired in endless repetition, or do we break the cycle of corruption once and for all? The future we all dream of — one where justice is firm, where leadership is anchored in integrity, and where public service truly serves the people — depends not on fleeting outrage, but on lasting, uncompromising accountability.
Only then can the promise of EDSA and every people’s struggle be fulfilled.