For over four decades, Eat Bulaga! has been more than just a television show; it’s been an institution, a daily companion, and a fixed part of the Filipino household. Its theme song is a melody of nostalgia, and its hosts—Vic Sotto, Tito Sotto, and Joey de Leon, collectively known as TVJ—are regarded not just as comedians, but as uncles and godfathers to the nation. They built an empire on laughter, generosity, and wholesome fun.

But now, the colorful facade of the longest-running noontime show in history is cracking, revealing a darkness that threatens to dismantle its entire legacy.

The social media landscape is currently ablaze, fueled by the explosive, bombshell revelations of Izzy Trazona, a former member of the iconic Sexbomb Dancers. In a move of staggering courage, Trazona has stepped forward to expose what she alleges was a culture of abuse, disrespect, and exploitation that festered behind the cameras, directly implicating the show’s three main pillars.

For the first time, Trazona is detailing the experiences she and her fellow dancers allegedly endured, painting a picture that is a grotesque contrast to the show’s public image. According to her, the decision to speak out was agonizing, delayed by years of fear. “I was afraid to fight the big names,” she stated, referring to TVJ. But her conscience, she explained, could no longer be silenced. The public, she insists, needs to know the truth.

At the heart of her allegations is the claim that the Sexbomb Dancers, despite being a massive draw for the show, were treated as little more than props. “We felt like we were just being used as decorations for the show,” Trazona revealed, “not as true performers who deserved respect and dignity.”

This alleged lack of respect manifested in ways that were both public and private. Trazona claims that she and other dancers were frequently subjected to “bastos na biro,” or lewd, inappropriate jokes, often right in front of the studio audience and staff. She described scenes where hosts would allegedly laugh at or tease them in ways that crossed the line from comedy into outright humiliation.

“We endured it all for a long time because we were afraid of losing our jobs,” she confessed, striking a chord that resonates with many. “Many of us were the breadwinners of our families. So even if it was painful and shameful, we just kept quiet.”

This economic desperation, Trazona implies, was the leverage used against them. It created a toxic power dynamic where they felt voiceless, like “puppets in a system full of power and influence.”

The allegations go deeper than just crude jokes. Trazona also claims that there were times when dancers were pressured or “forced” to comply with “requests” or “orders” from certain hosts, even when it went against their personal boundaries. She described an atmosphere of intimidation, where refusal was not a viable option. “It wasn’t just a simple job as dancers,” she added. “It became like an order mixed with a threat. If you don’t follow, you might be out of the lineup.”

She insists she was not alone, stating that many of her former colleagues in the Sexbomb Girls experienced the same situation but have chosen to remain silent, trapped by the same fear and shame that held her back for years.

Trazona’s testimony is the gasoline, but the fire was already smoldering. Her revelations gain even more traction as they follow closely on the heels of controversial statements made by another Eat Bulaga! alumnus, former co-host Anjo Yllana.

Yllana recently made waves by publicly challenging Tito Sotto, claiming the senator and host has “dark secrets” that the public needs to know. He directly disputed Sotto’s public claims about charitable projects and scholarships, alleging they were “untrue.” Yllana didn’t stop there, also alleging that Sotto has long had a mistress (“kalaguyo”) and has used his significant political and media influence to silence critics on social media.

With Trazona and Yllana’s statements, a pattern begins to emerge, suggesting the alleged issues may be systemic. Insider sources, who remain anonymous for fear of reprisal, have begun to corroborate this narrative. They allege that Vic Sotto and Joey de Leon were also complicit in fostering an environment of unfair treatment.

These sources speak of staff members who were allegedly fired or forced to resign without just cause. They whisper about dancers who were allegedly cornered into signing contracts that were overwhelmingly favorable to management, leaving them with little power or protection. According to some former members, the message was clear: stay quiet if you ever want to work in this industry again.

As these accusations mount, the response from the TVJ camp has been a deafening silence.

There has been no official statement, no press conference, no direct denial from the three hosts themselves. According to reports from sources allegedly close to them, they “vehemently deny” all the allegations and insist there is no truth to any of the claims. But for a public baying for answers, these second-hand denials are not enough. The question echoing across social media is: If these accusations are baseless lies, why not face the public and clearly defend their names?

This scandal has transcended the boundaries of showbiz gossip. It has evolved into a significant cultural moment, forcing a nationwide reckoning with issues of power, workplace harassment, and the treatment of women. The public is demanding a thorough investigation. Many are pointing out that this is not just an industry issue, but a matter of human rights and respect for women.

There is now immense pressure on other former Sexbomb Girls to speak out, to either support Trazona’s claims or refute them. As more former colleagues reportedly come forward to privately confirm that Trazona’s stories are true, the anger and disappointment among long-time fans are becoming palpable.

The fan base is now split. Some are experiencing a painful cognitive dissonance, unable to reconcile the image of their “idols of the masses” with the monstrous allegations. Others believe this is all just a coordinated smear campaign designed to destroy the group.

But regardless of the outcome, one thing is clear: a deep and painful wound in the history of Philippine television has been ripped open. For decades, Eat Bulaga! brought joy, but if these allegations are true, that joy came at a terrible price. Behind the bright lights and endless laughter, there were people, Trazona alleges, who were silently crying, people we watched dance and smile, who were allegedly victims of abuse and profound disrespect.

The call for justice and accountability is growing louder, and many are hoping this does not simply fade away as just another passing issue. The smiles of the audience have faded, replaced by a demand for truth.