

Pork isn’t dead
When the pork barrel scam exploded in 2013, the country swore “never again.” The Priority Development Assistance Fund (PDAF) was exposed as a playground of corruption — billions funneled into ghost projects and fake NGOs tied to Janet Lim-Napoles, while lawmakers collected kickbacks under the guise of development projects.
The outrage was so intense the Supreme Court had to step in, striking down the PDAF as unconstitutional and vowing to end legislative discretion over public funds.
Twelve years later, that case was resolved. Last 24 October, the Sandiganbayan acquitted Jessica “Gigi” Reyes, Jose Antonio Evangelista II, and Napoles, among others, of 15 counts of graft involving P172 million of then senator Enrile’s PDAF.
The court said the evidence “failed the test of moral certainty,” clearing all 33 accused. Yet civil liabilities worth millions remain — a quiet admission that public money was lost somewhere along the way.
With the recent turn of events, the nation is left to wonder: did the system learn anything, or did it merely rebrand corruption under a new label? The PDAF may be dead on paper, but its ghost lingers — this time in the shadows of unprogrammed congressional appropriations.
— Jason Mago
Unli pork promo
When you propose something, you should be clear about what you want, what you will do with it, and how it will benefit others — and, by extension, yourself.
Just a couple of weeks ago, the lower chamber approved — by a vote of 287-12-2 — the P6.793-trillion 2026 national budget on its third and final reading.
Here’s the catch: P243 billion in unprogrammed appropriations (UA) were retained.
Unprogrammed appropriations are approved funds without specific designations — essentially contingencies for unforeseen circumstances, what Budget Secretary Amenah Pangandaman calls “fiscal buffers.”
In principle, these funds are meant for emergencies and disaster response. In practice, however, they have long served as an open gateway for corruption — that dreaded “C” word Filipinos are, by now, exhausted from hearing.
It would almost be funny, if it weren’t so tragic, how numb we’ve become to what’s wrong — how unafraid we are to keep doing wrong. We are a nation with a calloused conscience, one that no longer feels guilt or shame.
And these are the same people we elect — the ones we entrust with every hard-earned peso — casually signing off on budgetary plans that we all know will mostly benefit them. The truth is, the UA should never have been approved. Because in the end, it is always the Filipino masses who pay the price.
As Gabriela Partylist Representative Sarah Elago aptly said, “What is before us is a pork feast for the powerful and scraps for the people.” And she couldn’t be more right.
No funds should ever be given the green light without a clear purpose, transparent allocation, and proper oversight — especially now, when we are literally drowning in the very floods we created. Every peso must be traceable, accountable, and labeled properly — like relationships should be. — Vivienne Angeles
Cost cuts, clean hands
President Ferdinand Marcos Jr.’s vow to “cleanse the bureaucracy” ahead of APEC 2025 sounds, well, like the bare minimum — the real test lies in whether his cost-cutting drive can truly lead to reforms or will it simply rebrand the old practice of fund diversion under a new name. Let’s call it “diverted funds,” this time.
The question remains: diverted to where, and to whom? To whoever promises more in return?
Reducing DPWH project costs by 50 percent is commendable, but the promised “savings” must not become the next pork.
Transparency isn’t about lower prices — it’s about traceability, accountability, and consequence. Emphasis on consequence, because until now, no one has been jailed despite his SoNA speech on flood control.
Cleansing the bureaucracy is admirable. But without a parallel cleansing of how power and privilege operate — where “diverted funds” find new homes under familiar names — that promise risks fading like every other reform agenda before it.