Imagine building a house. You would never start by stacking hollow blocks on muddy soil or using nails that bend at the first hammer strike. You’d make sure the foundation is solid, the materials strong, and the design sound. Otherwise, the first strong wind or tremor would bring it all crashing down.

The same is true with building a corruption case — especially in the flood control scandal that has shaken our nation. You cannot build a case on weak evidence. Flimsy affidavits, hearsay statements and missing documents are the legal equivalent of rotten wood and cracked cement. They may hold for a while, but they will never survive the weight of judicial scrutiny.

People are angry — and rightfully so. They see the videos of flooded streets, the washed-out bridges, the broken infrastructure for protection that was supposedly allocated billions of pesos, and they ask: Why is no one in jail yet? But justice, like architecture, requires patience and precision. A house built in haste will crumble; a carelessly built case will collapse in court.

Prosecutors and investigators are, in many ways, builders — of truth. Their blueprints are the facts, their scaffolding the chain of evidence, and their workers the witnesses whose testimonies must align perfectly. One wrong measurement — a missing signature, a contradictory statement, a document illegally obtained — can make the whole structure unsafe. The result? Acquittal, dismissal, or worse, impunity.

The public’s frustration is understandable. But if we want convictions that last, not just headlines that fade, then we must demand not only speed but strength. Each piece of evidence must be tested, verified and aligned with the elements of the crime. Each witness must be credible, consistent, and courageous. And each filing must withstand the storms of cross-examination and appeal.

Think of the flood control corruption cases as a test of national craftsmanship. Are we content with makeshift shelters — cases that look impressive from afar but are rotten within? Or will we build cathedrals of justice — cases so well-founded that even time cannot tear them down?

Justice delayed is painful, yes. But justice denied because of weak preparation is far worse. We cannot afford shortcuts. The public deserves more than symbolic prosecutions; they deserve verdicts that will stand the test of truth and law.

So let us build carefully. Let us build with integrity. Because when the dust settles and the verdicts are handed down, the measure of our work will not be how fast we built — but how strong it will stand.