On that ‘secret’ clearance
If you were an elected official accused of corruption and you were cleared by the Ombudsman, wouldn’t you shout it from the rooftops?

Here’s one for the legal and political hall of the weird: a secret decision by the Ombudsman.
We now know that back in 2019, then-Ombudsman Samuel Martires quietly reversed a ruling by his predecessor, Conchita Carpio-Morales, which had ordered the dismissal of Senator Joel Villanueva for his role in the PDAF scam.
That’s right, there was apparently another twist to the scandal that sent Janet Napoles to jail — one that was conveniently kept under wraps for years.
A “secret” Ombudsman decision is, to put it mildly, not normal. The Constitution explicitly directs the Ombudsman to publicize matters covered by its investigations when circumstances so warrant and with due prudence.
Reversing a judgment that found a sitting senator guilty of graft isn’t some minor procedural hiccup barely worthy of notice or comment. It is a major act of public consequence — the kind of thing we the people absolutely have a right to know. The fact that it took six years and a change in leadership before anyone found out speaks volumes about how warped our idea of “accountability” has become.
Even the new Ombudsman Boying Remulla, who only recently discovered this hidden ruling, reportedly had no clue it existed. Imagine being the country’s chief graft-buster and finding out that your office, under your predecessor, secretly absolved a senator of corruption without telling the public. If that doesn’t set off alarm bells, what will?
And then there’s Villanueva himself. If you were an elected official accused of corruption and you were cleared by the Ombudsman, wouldn’t you shout it from the rooftops? Call a press conference? Maybe tweet about vindication and justice finally being served? Instead, for six long years he said nothing. Not a word. Only when Remulla mentioned the possibility of reviving the original Morales order did he suddenly speak up, confirming that, yes, there had been a reversal all along.
Why the silence? Why the secrecy? Either the Ombudsman at the time didn’t think the public deserved to know, or the senator found it more convenient to keep his exoneration tucked away; perhaps worried that questions might follow about how exactly the reversal happened.
Whatever the reason, it’s a bad look for both.
The Ombudsman isn’t just another agency; it’s supposed to be the guardian of integrity in public service. It doesn’t only prosecute corruption, it’s meant to promote transparency and earn the public trust. A “secret” decision that lets a powerful official off the hook does the exact opposite. It undermines confidence in the institution, and worse, it suggests that accountability depends less on actual guilt or innocence and more on who happens to be holding the pen of judgment.
If we’re serious about rebuilding trust, this kind of cloak-and-dagger “justice” has to stop. No matter how you spin it, justice done in secret isn’t justice at all. Hopefully, our new Ombudsman will take to heart the adage that “sunlight is the best disinfectant” and truly champion the transparency his predecessor was seemingly allergic to.
