The Philippines finds itself at a chilling intersection of political vendetta, financial paradox, and human tragedy. In the wake of a devastating typhoon that left a trail of death and destruction in Cebu, the national narrative has split into two parallel, yet deeply connected, crises: the absolute vindication of the Office of the Vice President (OVP) against relentless political attacks, and the explosive uncovering of a multi-billion-peso scandal at the heart of the country’s flood control infrastructure.

This is a story of contrast, where the Commission on Audit (COA) delivered a stunning, definitive statement on financial integrity, only to have the public’s attention immediately captured by street protests at the Office of the Ombudsman, where accusations of “selective justice” and a colossal government cover-up are tearing the veil of official accountability.

The core issue is no longer a political skirmish; it is a profound moral failure rooted in an astronomical financial deception that has now cost lives. As the nation reels from the double-shock, citizens are demanding to know why, after the government allotted a staggering P39 billion to flood control projects in just three years, the tragedy in Cebu still happened, and where, exactly, that immense sum of taxpayer money disappeared.

The Integrity Shield: COA’s Definitive Verdict on the OVP

For months, the campaign against Vice President Sara Duterte had reached a fever pitch, fueled by public controversy and legislative scrutiny over the allocation of confidential funds (CF) for the OVP. The attacks were relentless, pervasive, and, according to political observers, clearly orchestrated to compromise the integrity of the Vice President and the political dynasty she represents.

Yet, in a monumental moment of truth, the Commission on Audit—the nation’s primary government financial watchdog—issued a definitive verdict that delivered a crushing blow to the entire operation. The COA’s 2024 annual audit report for the Office of the Vice President resulted in an Unqualified Opinion (or “Unmodified Opinion”), the highest form of audit rating an agency can receive.

For those unfamiliar with auditing language, this is the gold standard. An Unqualified Opinion signifies that an agency’s financial statements are presented fairly in all material respects and are free from material misstatement. In plain terms, the COA confirmed that the OVP’s books are clean, transparent, and accurate. The report explicitly confirmed that the OVP, under VP Duterte’s leadership, had “no problem, nothing stolen, and no corruption” in its financial transactions.

This official, non-political finding stands as a stunning refutation of the legislative inquiries, media firestorms, and political narratives that had sought to portray the OVP as financially suspect. It validates the Vice President’s consistent assertion of her office’s integrity and exposes the entire anti-Duterte campaign for what many have long suspected it to be: a politically motivated demolition job, financed and executed by forces deeply entrenched in the political structure.

The timing of the COA report against the backdrop of an allegedly questionable appointment to the Ombudsman’s office—which many critics claimed was done to specifically target the Duterte family by focusing immediately on the confidential funds—makes the audit findings even more impactful. The COA, by issuing its report, effectively provided an integrity shield that the political operators simply could not penetrate, shattering the manufactured controversy with undeniable, verifiable financial facts. The move exposed the political architects of the attack to profound embarrassment, leaving them without official grounds to pursue their allegations.

The Ombudsman Under Siege: Protests, Cover-ups, and the Cry for Selective Justice

As the OVP was cleared, attention immediately shifted to an entirely different drama unfolding at the steps of the Office of the Ombudsman. Anti-corruption groups and, more poignantly, survivors of the recent devastating Typhoon ‘Pino’ in Cebu converged on the office, not to seek praise for an honest agency, but to protest what they called a blatant practice of Selective Justice.

The core of the protesters’ demand centers on the Flood Control Scandal, an investigation into alleged corruption and anomalies in government infrastructure projects. The protestors accuse the Ombudsman’s office of a deliberate, slow-moving investigation that has mysteriously failed to reach the highest echelons of the executive branch. They argue that the office is shielding powerful officials close to President Bongbong Marcos, focusing instead on lower-level personnel—a classic tactic of insulating the highest office from accountability.

The urgency of the protest was driven by the human cost in Cebu, where the typhoon claimed over 100 lives, a tragedy the survivors directly attribute to government negligence and substandard, ineffective flood control projects. The demonstrators’ message was clear: if the Ombudsman is truly serious about combating corruption, the investigation must be comprehensive, reaching all the way to the President, the Senate, and the Congress. The public sentiment suggests a deep suspicion that the office, which the video speaker claims is politically compromised, is prioritizing political survival over the constitutional mandate to hold all public officials accountable.

Critics further point to the political maneuvering observed in various anti-government rallies. The video noted the curious absence of specific slogans, such as “Marcos Resign,” or the deliberate omission of specific names in some protests, which suggests a calculated “diversionary tactic.” The argument is that these staged protests, while appearing to demand accountability, are in fact carefully managed to steer the public’s outrage toward politically convenient targets—often those outside the current ruling coalition—thereby protecting the true beneficiaries of the corruption. This layered complexity makes the public’s quest for genuine justice feel increasingly futile and manipulated.

The Billion-Peso Paradox: Unmasking the Flood Control Scandal

The most damning evidence of corruption, however, lies in a jarring financial comparison that exposes the deception at the heart of the flood control failure.

Following the Cebu disaster, the administration’s defenders attempted to deflect blame by invoking data from the previous administration, specifically citing the number of flood control projects undertaken between 2016 and 2022. They noted 343 flood control projects were initiated during this period. The implied narrative was to link the current catastrophe to the alleged deficiencies of the past.

But this defense is a masterclass in obfuscation. The critical factor is not the number of projects, but the amount of money spent, and it is here that the narrative of deception violently collapses.

A forensic analysis of the spending reveals a stunning paradox:

Previous Administration (2016–2022 / 6 years): The total budget for flood control projects hovered around P17 Billion.
Current Administration (2023–2025 / 3 years): The budget has skyrocketed to an estimated P39 Billion (P14.63 Billion + P11.61 Billion + P12.77 Billion).

In a span of just three years, the current administration has budgeted more than twice the amount—a staggering P22 billion difference—than was spent in the preceding six years. The budget for a single year (2023) was nearly equal to the combined budget for the entire six-year term of the previous administration.

The essential question that this financial data forces upon the nation is this: If the government spent P39 billion in just three years on flood control—double the amount of the previous six—why did a catastrophic, preventable flood still happen, resulting in over 100 fatalities?

The immense financial gap—the P22 billion discrepancy—is the smoking gun. It leads inevitably to the terrifying conclusion that this money either disappeared through “ghost projects,” or massive, unvetted budgetary insertions, or was diverted to other, nefarious, and potentially political purposes, as suggested by the video speaker. To blame the failures of the past while presiding over a budget that has more than doubled—only to see an even greater tragedy unfold—is not merely incompetence; it is, as the video’s source suggests, a profound moral and ethical failure.

The Desperate Art of Political Deflection

The reaction of the administration’s spokespersons to this crisis has only deepened the public’s cynicism. When confronted with the horrific cost of the Cebu floods, the narrative consistently reverted to blaming the past administration. The video critically highlights how the spokesperson, faced with a crisis of accountability, would not, or could not, defend the current government’s actions but instead continuously defaulted to using the 2016-2022 data.

This constant, ritualistic blaming of the previous administration is a textbook “act of desperation.” It signals that the current administration’s integrity is so compromised that it “cannot stand on its own personality or character.” Instead of addressing the P39 billion budget and the immediate failure of their projects, the only defense available is to attempt to drag down a political rival. The strategy is to create a political distraction so massive—such as the relentless attacks on the OVP’s funds—that the public is diverted from the truly massive and deadly financial scandal under their watch.

Furthermore, the slow response of the highest executive official to the Cebu disaster, visiting only after three days, contrasts starkly with the swiftness of the political machinations to deflect blame. It suggests a tragic prioritization: the political war against a rival takes precedence over the urgent need to address public safety and the welfare of disaster victims. The public is left with the agonizing realization that their suffering is being weaponized in a high-stakes, ruthless game of political survival.

A Nation Demands Accountability

The twin narratives of the COA’s vindication of the OVP and the P39 billion flood fund scandal converge into a single, undeniable conclusion: the Filipino people are owed answers. The COA’s Unqualified Opinion should serve as a benchmark for financial integrity, highlighting that clean governance is possible even under the fiercest political pressure.

In sharp contrast, the sheer magnitude of the P39 billion budget disparity, set against the backdrop of death and destruction in Cebu, demands an immediate, no-holds-barred investigation into the Flood Control Scandal. The era of ‘selective justice,’ ‘delaying tactics,’ and political deflection must end. The nation’s leaders must realize that prioritizing political warfare over the safety of the citizenry and the responsible use of taxpayer money is not just a strategic misstep—it is an unforgivable betrayal.

The Filipino people are not looking for excuses; they are looking for accountability for the P39 billion that failed to protect them. The spotlight is now firmly fixed on the Ombudsman and the executive branch. The integrity of the entire government, and the trust of a grieving nation, hangs in the balance.