A neighbor suddenly opens a sari-sari store (Store A) right across from another one (Store B). For the first week, everything is fine, coexistence and friendly nods. Then something shifts. Free candy starts flowing to every kid who says Store B is overpriced. Discount chips are handed out to anyone willing to whisper that Store B’s goods are stale.

Store B’s owner watches it all unfold, thinking to himself that if Store A’s goods were really better, its owner wouldn’t need to pay people to say that his were trash.

This is exactly where our country finds itself right now.

A government office — the very people paid to tell us about typhoon preparations, bridge inaugurations, and other government programs — has apparently decided to become that Store A. Except that instead of free candies, it’s envelopes of cash and online fund transfers. Instead of a sari-sari store feud, it’s an impeachment campaign against Vice President Sara Duterte.

The method uses our money. Literally.

After whispers of considerable amounts being slid to some Metro journalists comes the classic “let’s align our narratives” hospitality. The operation has now gone provincial. The impeachment influencer tour has left the capital.

A state media worker assigned somewhere outside Metro Manila was reportedly approached by a government information officer with a simple pitch — to mobilize the local media with the same messaging. All against the Vice President. Public funds? Who knows?

Somewhere in this country, a civil servant clocked in, sat down, and seriously thought, “Do they have to trade what the people in the provinces desperately need — irrigation, health centers, covered courts, food, schools — for a coordinated, multi-island smear campaign?”

The tragicomic part is that they are using public funds to pull it off.

Every peso handed to a provincial reporter to write another “sources say” hit piece is money that will not go toward a hospital bed, a sack of rice, a dialysis center, or a classroom. But sure, they budget for the “Please Hate the VP” provincial roadshow.

If Vice President Sara Duterte truly deserved to be impeached — with the alleged controversies worth scrutinizing — then why does the narrative need to be purchased? A genuinely damning case would sell itself because journalists don’t need envelopes but solid evidence.

Dispatching provincial information officers like traveling salesmen, pitching the “impeachment bundle” to local reporters, screams insecurity with a seemingly legit line item in the budget.

It’s ironic that the same administration that thunders about “disinformation” and “fake news” is now allegedly engineering a massive info campaign using state resources. That’s simply commissioning disinformation, not fighting it.

Politics is evidently dirty. War rooms exist, and spin is part of the game. There’s a difference, however, between defending your narrative and buying the press corps a round of “please hate our rival.”

The moment one starts using public funds to manufacture disinformation in the provinces — places where people already struggle to access basic services — it has crossed a very clear line. It is no longer governance. Clearly, it’s gaslighting with a government ID and a petty cash voucher.

If the pitched narrative is true, let it stand on its own. No bribes, no provincial roadshows, and no “mobilizing” local media like they’re megaphones for malicious talking points.

Right now, they are not convincing anyone that the Vice President is the problem. They are just showing us exactly how far they’re willing to go with our money. And that speaks louder than any paid headline ever will.

Go ahead with buying those provincial placements. Don’t be surprised, though, when the public starts asking the obvious question: “If the case is so strong, why pay people to believe it?”

Asking for friends who pay their taxes and buy from Sari-Sari Store B.