In sun-drenched Egypt, the land of gods and pharaohs, the ancients erected stupefying monuments like the Great Pyramids and the Sphinx — testaments to human ingenuity, nearly all still standing defiant against time. But here in the Philippines, in the supposed golden age of infrastructure, we can’t even keep a bridge or a flyover from crumbling like a deck of cards.
While the Pharaoh Khufu gazed upon his stone behemoth, we watched in horror as the P1.2-billion Cabagan-Sta. Maria Bridge plunged into the Cagayan River, injuring six. This wasn’t a sudden collapse; this was the culmination of a decade-long saga.
Construction began in 2014, with an initial budget of P639.6 million. Delays and cost overruns, those familiar specters of Philippine infrastructure, haunted the project. The final bill: P1.225 billion, including approaches.
A decade, a near doubling of the budget, later and what did we get? A bridge that couldn’t handle a heavy truck, even after a recent retrofitting meant to strengthen it to DPWH’s updated standards.
The DPWH, that self-investigating entity, claims the bridge should withstand 45 tons. The truck, carrying 102 tons, is their convenient scapegoat. But this isn’t just about weight. It’s about a system that allowed a bridge, not even fully cleared for public use, to collapse. It’s about a system where “retrofitting” means little more than a band-aid on a gaping wound.
Then there’s the Iloilo flyover, a P680-million testament to engineering hubris. Opened in June 2022, it was closed in September due to public complaints of a “wavy feel” and flooding. The DPWH, ever resourceful, spent another P13.48 million on a third-party consultant, followed by P95.95 million for Phase 1 rectification and P192.25 million for Phase 2, awarded to the original contractor. That’s nearly P1 billion spent on a flyover that should have been done right the first time.
The DPWH’s regional director promised “responsibility, accountability, and transparency.” Empty words in a system where corruption whispers and incompetence reigns. The Palace aide blamed local government units, shifting the responsibility like a hot potato. But who approved the materials? Who signed off on the retrofitting? The buck stops somewhere, but in the labyrinthine corridors of the DPWH, it vanishes.
The fear now is that every government project will be viewed with suspicion. After all, if a bridge and a flyover, projects meant to connect and uplift, can crumble so spectacularly, what hope is there for the rest?
What happens when the so-called “Big One” strikes, when the earth will shake and the very foundations of our cities will be tested? Will our structures, built on a foundation of questionable materials and compromised engineering, stand? The ancients (some say with the help of alien visitors) built the pyramids for eternity. We, in our supposed modernity, struggle to build structures that can survive a heavy truck or a rainstorm.
The irony is as vast as the Cagayan River, as deep as the cracks in our crumbling infrastructure. The DPWH, it seems, is building not a golden age, but a monument to our own incompetence. And for that, President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. is right, heads should roll.
Whose heads? The engineers who cut corners? The contractors who used substandard materials? The officials who turned a blind eye? The ones who approved the inflated budgets and the rushed timelines? The ones who prioritized speed over safety, profit over public trust? The ones who allowed a billion-peso bridge and flyover to become symbols of our collective failure?
These are the questions that demand answers, and the answers that demand accountability. Because if these two projects, the Cabagan-Sta. Maria bridge and the Iloilo flyover, are any indication, the integrity of our public infrastructure is like a line of dominoes, poised to fall under the slightest pressure.
One faulty bridge, one flawed flyover, and the entire system risks collapse, leaving us not with monuments to progress, but ruins of our own making.