In the real world, if you invest in a business, you expect a return. Your money goes in, and with a good plan and a bit of luck, more money comes out. That is simple Return on Investment (RoI) — a fundamental principle that drives growth, innovation, and genuine progress.

Here in the Philippines, however, we’ve perfected a different kind of RoI. It’s that which doesn’t build businesses but systematically dismantles our government. A college friend calls it the “Ecosystem of Corruption.”

It’s a self-sustaining cycle with its own rules and logic, and frankly, we’re all living in it, whether we want to admit it or not. We are all, to some degree, participants in a game where the house always wins, and the people always lose.

Think of an election not as a democratic process, but as the grand opening of a new franchise: “Government Inc.”

The candidate is the product, meticulously packaged, marketed, and sold to the public. The big-time contractors and financiers are the venture capitalists, providing the seed funding for this high stakes launch.

And we Filipino voters? We are the consumers, happily accepting free samples during the product demonstration, completely unaware that we are not the customers — we are the product being sold. Our votes, our compliance, and our silence are the commodities being traded.

I saw it firsthand in my relative’s barangay during a recent election. A candidate for councilor, whom we’ll call “Tony,” was everywhere. Two weeks before the polls, his vans were unloading packs of rice and groceries at every corner.

A neighbor came home with two packs and said, “Ang bait-bait ni Tony, ha (Tony is really kind).” I asked her if she knew what his platform was. She shrugged and said, “Mas importante ang may pangkain ngayon (What is important is we have something to eat).”

At that moment, a political choice was reduced to a simple transaction.

That’s Phase 1: The Investment. Tony was making a strategic expenditure. That grocery pack wasn’t a gift, but a down payment. It wasn’t born of compassion, it was an advance on a future return. The contractors funding his campaign weren’t civic-minded donors, but investors. Like any investor, they expect a substantial return with interest.

This brings us to the inevitable Phase 2: The Payback. Once Tony wins, the real bill comes due. Public funds become the repayment plan. Suddenly, that simple waiting shed costs a million pesos. A drainage project in an area that never floods gets prioritized. The bidding is a sham — contracts were pre-awarded to the “investors.” The profit doesn’t really come from creating value — it’s siphoned off directly from our taxes.

Here’s the uncomfortable truth we often ignore — we, the voters, are complicit in this cycle. We have created this toxic market. We have normalized the pervasive culture of solicitation for fiestas, basketball leagues, and funerals. We have collectively decided that a politician’s “generosity” with money that isn’t theirs matters more than their integrity, competence, or vision.

We have traded our collective delicadeza, our sense of honor and propriety, for a pack of instant noodles and a fleeting sense of obligation.

I remember my uncle, a mayor from a bygone era, turning down a free chicken during his campaign because he said it would “tie his hands.” He believed that a leader must enter office indebted only to the public, not to any individual. Today, that kind of honor is seen as a weakness.

So, the next time a candidate hands you that 500-peso bill or that grocery pack, don’t be fooled into seeing it as a gift. See it for what it is: your tiny dividend from “Government Inc.” — a minimal, one-time payment that buys your silence while the major stakeholders loot our treasury for years to come.

This corporation of corruption will never go bankrupt. It will only collapse when we, the people, finally refuse the meager dividends. It will end when we stop being passive consumers and start acting like principled shareholders who demand real, lasting value for our most powerful asset: our vote.

The return on that investment shouldn’t be a bag of groceries, but a functioning government, quality public services, and a nation truly moving forward.