EDITORIAL

End of meow

Then, an apology. Out of nowhere. Very sorry with context. Hurt feelings. Funeral this, misunderstanding that — oversharing is what people do when facts don’t show up on time.

DT

Dear Mr. Enrique Razon:

You didn’t get to where you are by shouting on social media. Didn’t build ports, power, logistics, a reputation that travels the world by typing too fast and thinking later.

That’s just not your game. You built by finishing. Records. Discipline. Results. Very boring to the internet. Very effective for a country.

When someone like Kiko Barzaga decides, casually and recklessly, to smear that record with words like “mastermind” and “bribery,” it taxes everything you’re trying to build for this country. It slows things down. It adds friction everywhere your name is required to function.

You answered the right way. Filed. Did more for public standards than a thousand angry posts. Reminded everyone that senseless accusations are not content and consequences still exist.

Now. Kiko Barzaga. The brand was “Congressmeow.” Meow this. Roar that. Revolution! Corruption everywhere. Everybody’s dirty.

Turns out: One hiss, and it’s straight under the couch. Calling yourself Congressmeow works until the lawyers bring dogs.

Then, an apology. Out of nowhere. Very sorry with context. Hurt feelings. Funeral this, misunderstanding that--oversharing is what people do when facts don’t show up on time.

Whistleblowers (real ones, cool Gen Z or ancient boomers, doesn’t matter) don’t explain a feeling or bring a backstory where evidence is required. And once it’s bedtime tales, everybody knows proof will never come.

A credibility brand, funny thing, works right up until it doesn’t. The second Kiko admitted that one big allegation was inspired by something personal and emotional, everything else collapsed into the same pile.

Then on, nobody’s asking what’s true anymore. They ask: “Kiko, which are facts and which parts are mere feelings having a very loud day?”

Now, Mr. Razon. We know the instinct. “Let it go, he’s a kid.” “Why bother? It’s small.”

Yeah? Small things teach big lessons. If nothing happens, congratulations, you just trained a thousand louder idiots.

The story becomes “He survived it.” Instead of “He was wrong.” Surviving is a terrible lesson to teach.

Don’t confuse kindness with responsibility. Kindness is personal; responsibility, public. You’re acting in public space now.

People calibrate themselves off figures like Enrique Razon Jr. They watch what you tolerate. Adjust accordingly. When you proceed correctly, the message: This is where the line actually is.

You don’t usually need to pursue things. That’s the irony. You’ve already won most rooms before you walk in. But there’s a reason builders like you finish what they start.

Unfinished things don’t make money or a nation. Unfinished things keep billing you. Very bad for business.

The country really gets built in these annoying little moments. The ones nobody wants to deal with. The ones that feel beneath you.

Nation-building happens when someone decides not to look away from a problem that everyone else has already agreed to ignore politely.

You’re special because you hate loose ends. You enjoy sleep, the kind that comes when loose ends stop tapping you on the shoulder at night.

Everybody’s watching how this ends, Mr. Razon. Endings tell people how serious you are. This one is a reminder you always mean business.