Rain, rain, go away…
The very projects intended to protect Filipinos from nature’s fury appear to have been turned by some into a feeding trough for plunderers, an opportunity to prey upon and pillage the public treasury.

The very projects intended to protect Filipinos from nature’s fury appear to have been turned by some into a feeding trough for plunderers, an opportunity to prey upon and pillage the public treasury.

When I was young, many, many moons ago, we used to chant the familiar nursery rhyme: “Rain, rain, go away; Come again another day.”
In those days, rain was not something we feared.
As schoolchildren
growing up in our little barrio in Makati, we welcomed the heavy rains and even the floodwaters they brought.
To us, flooding was an adventure. We tied together felled banana trunks and turned them into makeshift rafts, happily paddling through the shallow floodwaters as though we were explorers on some grand expedition.
Those were innocent times.
Today, the same rain that once brought us childhood amusement brings anxiety, destruction and, increasingly, uncomfortable questions.
But this time, the rain did something more than flood our streets, homes and communities.
It became an auditor.
It exposed what years of government spending, contracts, completion certificates and official assurances may have failed to reveal.
For years, we have been told that billions upon billions of pesos have been spent annually to protect our people from floods. In August 2025, Senator Bam Aquino cited a figure of P1.4 trillion spent on flood control over the preceding 15 years.
We have spent enormous amounts of public money on flood control, yet Filipinos continue to wade through floodwaters whenever the rains become severe.
That contradiction demands more than another congressional hearing. It demands answers.
The public treasury should never become a feeding ground for unscrupulous contractors and their government enablers.
The rain does not read project proposals. It does not recognize politicians, contractors, bureaucrats or influential connections. It does not care who signed the contract or approved the payment.
The rain simply falls. And when it falls heavily, it tests everything.
A properly designed and constructed flood control project should perform its intended function. A river channel should carry water. A drainage system should drain. A pumping station should pump. A dike should hold. A flood control structure should protect.
When these fail, we cannot simply blame nature.
Admittedly, climate change is making extreme weather events more frequent and intense. Rapid urbanization has altered natural waterways, while clogged drainage systems, deforestation, land subsidence and poor land-use planning all contribute to flooding.
But these realities make good infrastructure not just important but absolutely critical, urgent and non-negotiable.
Every peso spent on flood mitigation should therefore be carefully planned, correctly allocated and rigorously audited.
Instead, the flood control scandal has exposed ghost projects, shoddy work, dubious contracts and suspected collusion between contractors and government officials.
The irony is painful.
The very projects intended to protect Filipinos from nature’s fury appear to have been turned by some into a feeding trough for plunderers, an opportunity to prey upon and pillage the public treasury.
The rain may be natural. The corruption is not.
And therein lies the shameful irony of our time.
The Filipino taxpayer pays for flood control projects so that his family will not have to swim through floodwaters. Yet when the rains come, many discover that the very structures meant to protect them may be missing, defective, inadequate or incapable of doing what they were supposed to do.
The rain has therefore become an unintended forensic investigator, exposing the difference between what government reports claim and what actually exists on the ground.
A project report may say completed. But the rain asks, does it work?
That is why the investigation must not end with a few scapegoats being paraded before the public.
We need to examine the entire chain from conception to payment. Uncomfortable questions should be asked:
Who identified the project? Who proposed it? Who inserted it into the budget? Who approved it? Who prepared the plans? Who awarded the contract? Who inspected the work? Who certified its completion? Who released the payment? Who audited it? And, ultimately, who benefited?
Corruption rarely thrives through one person acting alone. It flourishes when a system allows people to perform their assigned roles without asking the questions they are supposed to ask or when everyone knows what is happening but nobody wants to become a whistleblower.
The flood control scandal must not become another spectacle that dominates the headlines for a few weeks and then disappears.
We have seen this before: a scandal erupts, public outrage follows, investigations begin, names are mentioned, hearings are held, promises are made and, eventually, the public moves on.
This time, while the impeachment trial may have diverted national attention, we must demand closure to the flood control scandal.
Ghost projects may exist on paper, but they cannot stand against the rain.
Which brings us back to the nursery rhyme of our childhood: “Rain, rain, go away…”
Today, perhaps the people most eager for the rain to go away are not only residents of flood-prone communities but also those who fear what the next rainfall might reveal.
Perhaps we should change our childhood rhyme:
“Rain, rain, don’t go away
Stay long enough to show us
where the money went”
The plunderers may fool the auditor, manipulate the paperwork and even fool the taxpayer for a while, but they cannot fool the rain.
The rain has no political allegiance, accepts no bribe and signs no fictitious completion report. It falls indiscriminately. It tests every project and exposes every weakness.
Every flood is a reality check. Every failed project is a question waiting to be answered.
So, “Rain, Rain, Go Away” is no longer merely a children’s rhyme. This is a warning to the rogue contractors and their cohorts!
You may fool the auditor, manipulate the paperwork and fool the taxpayer, but you cannot fool the rain.