In every scandal that grips the nation, one phrase eventually rises above the noise: “Sino ang big fish” (Who are the big fish)?

It is a question asked with impatience, with suspicion, sometimes with anger. And in the unfolding story of the flood control anomalies, that question has echoed loudly across living rooms, workplaces, jeepneys and social media.

Perhaps it is time we paused and asked ourselves: What do we really mean when we say “big fish?”

I remember a fisherman I met years ago in a coastal town in Cebu. He told me that the biggest fish is not always the one that splashes the loudest or the one people talk about the most.

Sometimes, he said, it is the one deep beneath the surface — the one that takes patience, skill and an understanding of the waters to catch. You cannot simply point at the waves and declare, “There it is.” You must know what lies below.

In the same way, we must be careful—very careful — about how we use that phrase in the context of the flood control controversy.

“Big fish” cannot be defined by political color, party loyalty, or the heat of public opinion. If we start assigning weight based on whom a person supported, whom they opposed, or whom they once stood beside in a photo, then we have lost the plot entirely. Justice does not care for red or yellow, administration or opposition. It cares for evidence.

And evidence, unlike rumor, does not bend to our assumptions.

The truth is simple but often inconvenient: each case is different. The roles are different. The circumstances are different. The available evidence is different. We cannot lift one narrative and force it onto another. We cannot look at someone and conclude his guilt based on what we feel instead of what we can prove.

To do so would be to abandon the very foundation of accountability.

Yes, the public deserves answers. Yes, the public deserves to see the corrupt actors held responsible. But they also deserve investigations rooted in discipline, not shortcuts. They deserve cases that will stand in court — not cases that will crumble because we rushed to label someone a “big fish” before all the facts were in.

If there is one hope I hold for this chapter in our nation’s fight against corruption, it is this: that the term “big fish” is never used loosely, never used politically and never used as a substitute for real work. Let it mean only what it should mean — the person, whoever they are, to whom the evidence ultimately points.

The fisherman was right. The big fish is not the one we assume is just under the water. It is the one that skill, patience and truth will finally reveal.