They spent half a trillion pesos on flood control. Nine thousand eight hundred fifty-five projects. Designed to absorb nothing but your rage.
The fix? A direct line to the President: Sumbong sa Pangulo. Reminds you of Michael V. It means: you don’t call City Hall, you don’t call DPWH; you need an inbox of the nation, manned by the head of state, the ultimate call-center agent.
[no_reply]: “Hello, thank you for contacting Malacañang, please hold while we ignore you.”
You upload a picture of your sala set floating down the street. Click submit. Boom. You get a ticket number. Very official: “Thank you. Your drowning is ticket No. 57076. Your suffering is very important to us.”
Bongbong noticed. But mostly, he will look great noticing.
Last year, the man bragged: “We solved the problem.” This year? “Failures.” Pick a story, Bongbong. Are you a savior or a fraud?
If your government needs a website to hear you, it means the government’s deaf. If you need to bypass your Cabinet, if you need the people to e-mail you personally, it means your men are useless. They’re just extras. Props.
Bongbong is the star. And the star wants more lines. Nothing works unless Bongbong jiggles the handle himself.
The game is not “Do the floodgates work?” Instead: “Is the President reachable?”
The hotline will quickly pivot from aid to testing the limits of presidential patience. Because people love to complain. It’s addictive. They feel powerful. “I cc’ed the President!” “The President is so accessible.” “The people love him!”
It won’t stop at floods. Watch. People will start sending everything.
“Sir, why is my neighbor still singing Aegis at 3 a.m.?”
Instead of results, you get attention. It will feel empowering. Your barangay is underwater, but at least your grievance is officially acknowledged.
And what’s next? Ayuda arrives only if your Instagram post is tagged #BBMSeesYou. Your rice is expensive, but at least the press release is cheap.
Submitting a complaint now feels like confessing your sins to someone who already knew you were hopeless.
We marvel at a country that designed institutions to prevent disaster, then “fixed” collapse by having the highest office on speed dial. Does this prevent disaster, or make disaster look like a problem the President cares about? If the solution to flooding is the President’s personal attention, what does that say about the apparatus funded to stop it?
BBM looks like he’s everywhere and doing everything, but the result is often nowhere.
But governance is supposed to be invisible. You shouldn’t have to e-mail the President about floods. When the drainage works, you barely notice it.