A political firestorm has erupted in the Philippines, threatening to consume the highest offices in the land. Former Congressman Saldiko, the man at the center of a burgeoning multi-billion peso budget scandal, has broken his silence with a claim that has sent shockwaves through the nation: he was not the mastermind, and he did not act alone. In a stunning defense, Saldiko has directly implicated Speaker Romualdez and, most alarmingly, President Bongbong Marcos Jr. himself, asserting that the controversial budget, riddled with alleged insertions, received the full “knowledge and approval” of both chambers of Congress and the President.

This explosive accusation has transformed a corruption inquiry into a full-blown crisis of government, with commentators and the public alike struggling to grasp the scale of the alleged conspiracy. “Hindi naman ako mastermind dito eh (I’m not the mastermind here),” Saldiko reportedly stated, a defense that political analysts are finding increasingly plausible. The core of his argument rests on simple government procedure: a national budget cannot be passed, let alone enacted, by a single congressman.

“I have to agree with him,” one political commentator noted during a heated broadcast. “How can one person orchestrate this? A corrupt budget of this magnitude? It has to be approved by both houses. It has to be signed by the president.” This line of reasoning has shifted the public’s fury, which was once laser-focused on Saldiko, and redirected it toward a far more unsettling target: the entire political establishment.

The public sentiment, as captured in fiery online discussions and radio programs, is one of betrayal. Saldiko’s claims paint a picture of a systemic rot, where he is merely a convenient scapegoat for a crime allegedly sanctioned at the very top. “He’s right,” another analyst chimed in. “He couldn’t have done this without the knowledge and approval of both chambers… It was signed by the president.”

The scandal has now placed President Marcos in an untenable position. The reactor on the program laid the blame squarely at his feet: “You are the president. You should have checked… You should know. We don’t know. You are the president.” This sentiment encapsulates the profound disillusionment of a populace that feels “played” (pinapaikot) by its leaders. The central question is no longer just about stolen money, but about ultimate responsibility. Was the administration complicit, or was it so negligent that a corrupt budget sailed through the highest office undetected? To many, neither answer is acceptable.

As the political blame game intensifies, commentators are calling for Saldiko to return to the Philippines and expose everyone involved. “If I were Saldiko, I would come home to the Philippines and spill the beans on everyone behind this,” one broadcaster urged, reflecting a popular desire to see the entire corrupt network dismantled. “Why should he be the only one? He’s pitiful if he takes the blame for his former colleagues… He should lay out exactly who his companions were in plundering the nation’s coffers.”

However, the Department of Justice (DOJ) Secretary, Crispin Remulla, has publicly stated that Saldiko’s return is “unlikely,” describing the possibility as “murkier than squid ink.” This has only fueled speculation that Saldiko knows too much and that powerful figures would prefer he remain silent and abroad, the lone villain in a story that is proving to have a much larger cast.

While the political elite are consumed by this “awayan” (fighting) and “sisihan” (blaming), the real-world consequences are crashing down on the Filipino people. The scandal has triggered what commentators are calling a period of “political instability,” and the economic fallout has been immediate and devastating. Business leaders and investors are reportedly terrified. “The business people I talk to are asking, ‘Will this lead to chaos?’” revealed broadcaster Ted Pilon. This uncertainty is poison to an economy.

The most telling sign of this economic hemorrhage is the collapse of the Philippine peso, which has plummeted to 58 against the US dollar. “That’s it, the nation’s economy is falling,” a reactor stated bluntly. “When the dollar rises like that, our economy is collapsing.” This instability is reportedly causing a run on the dollar, as those with the means attempt to protect their assets from the failing peso, further accelerating the downward spiral. This isn’t a distant political drama; it’s a direct threat to the financial security of every Filipino.

The most visceral and tragic illustration of this corruption, however, is found on the flooded streets of the capital. As politicians debate the whereabouts of billions, ordinary citizens are losing their homes and livelihoods to predictable, preventable disasters. Commentators pointed to the recent severe flooding in Quezon City and Pasig, which were inundated after just “a little rain” from Typhoon Opong.

This, they argue, is the undeniable proof of failed governance. “You can really see that the projects were not done,” one person lamented. The money that should have built robust drainage systems, flood walls, and resilient infrastructure is gone, allegedly sitting in the “50 suitcases full of cash” that Saldiko alone couldn’t carry. This potent image—of politicians struggling to spend their loot while citizens struggle to survive a flood—has become a symbol of the nation’s plight.

One commentator offered a more poetic, and perhaps more damning, perspective on the relentless rains. “This is God’s way of reminding the Filipinos,” she said, quoting a friend. “You forget too quickly. I will keep the rain coming so you remember every day just how terrible what these people did to you was.”

The scandal, sparked by one man’s refusal to be the sole fall guy, has ripped the veneer off the nation’s political system, exposing a potential rot that runs deep. From the highest office in Malacañang to the flooded, forgotten streets of Quezon City, the consequences are interconnected. The Filipino people are left watching, waiting, and wondering if the truth will ever be fully exposed, or if they will be left, once again, to carry the weight of a crisis they did not create.