When Will We Ever Learn?

*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD

Last night, as I watched the news of Cebu’s earthquake, I felt my chest tighten. I saw mothers clutching their children in the dark, fathers desperately trying to pull debris with bare hands, elderly people trembling as they were carried to safety. Their cries were not just echoes of fear — they were cries of betrayal. Betrayal by leaders who promised to protect them, yet gave them nothing but hollow speeches and substandard infrastructures that collapsed at the first shake of the earth.

My heart aches to ask: When will we, as a people, ever learn? How many more of our brothers and sisters must be buried under rubble before we refuse to elect corrupt officials who care only for their pockets? How many times must we watch our houses crumble before we say “enough” to government appointees who sell out their honor to construction firms that build for profit, not for safety? These firms, hand in hand with fly-by-night insurance companies, leave families with nothing but grief when disasters strike — no justice, no security, only pain.

I cannot stop thinking of the children whose schools cracked, the patients whose hospitals shook, the families whose homes fell apart. These are not mere accidents. These are the direct results of corruption that has festered for decades. Every nail stolen, every bag of cement diluted, every steel bar replaced with something cheaper — all of it adds up. And in moments like this, it is the poor who pay the ultimate price with their lives.

We Filipinos are resilient, yes, but why must we always be asked to endure? Why must we keep rising from the ruins when those who caused our suffering sit comfortably in their mansions? Resilience without justice is cruelty. Compassion without accountability is hypocrisy. And healing without learning is meaningless.

Cebu’s earthquake is more than a calamity. It is a lesson written in tears and blood. And yet, I fear we will let it fade like all the others — forgotten when the next campaign truck of a corrupt politician with their largely names being advertise arrives with relief goods and empty promises. Mother Nature has already spoken through the rains, through the floods, and now through the tremors. She is exposing our shame, but still we choose silence.

And let us not forget: PHIVOLCS has long warned that Luzon, including Metro Manila, may one day be hit by the dreaded “Big One.” Combine that with Senate revelations that countless buildings, roads, and public infrastructures have been substandardly built just to allow kickbacks — and the picture is terrifying. If corruption continues, the Big One will not just be an earthquake; it will be a massacre of lives and the destruction of our very future. It is not the fault of nature — it will be the fault of man’s greed.

I write this with a heavy heart, praying that this tragedy will finally awaken us. That we will turn our mourning into courage, our grief into resolve. Because the truth is simple: it is not the earthquake and floods that destroys us. It is corruption, and our refusal to break free from it.

May the entire nation learn from this tragedy, and may it open the eyes of our leaders — most especially the President — to undertake true reforms or even make personal sacrifices if needed, for the sake of the nation. For leadership is not about comfort or power, it is about service, humility, and sacrifice for the people.

To the people of Cebu and the nearby provinces: may your tears water the seeds of change. May your pain ignite a fire in all of us to finally demand leaders who value lives more than contracts, dignity more than profit. And may God, who is our refuge and strength, cradle you in His arms until we, as a nation, learn to protect one another as He intended us to.

___________________

 *About the author:

Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission.

VIEWS: 120K

Hoping for a Hopeless Hope: Why the People Must Move

*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD, 

There comes a point in every nation’s life when waiting feels like the slowest form of dying. For as long as many of us can remember, we have been told to wait—wait for reforms, wait for progress, wait for leaders to finally decide what is best for us. We were made to believe that development will descend from above, like a blessing granted by the powerful. Yet here we are, still waiting, still hoping, and still asking ourselves if that hope is real or if it has always been a hopeless one.

I have wrestled with this idea for years: can a nation truly change if its people remain passive? When we continue to wait for our leaders to act, are we not prolonging our own suffering, entrusting our future to the very hands that allowed our present to decay? This is not just theory to me—it is a lived reality. I have seen it in the eyes of flood victims clutching what remains of their homes, in the children who go to school hungry, in the young Filipinos who wonder why their dreams weigh too heavy for this country to carry.

There is a certain comfort in waiting, a false peace that makes us think someone else is carrying the burden. But comfort is not always truth. Waiting has left us powerless, clapping for every new promise and then cursing in silence when those promises are broken. When our hope is placed in leaders who are indifferent, corrupt, or reluctant, we end up disappointed again and again. Hope itself is not weak, but hope that rests on empty leadership is like planting seeds in barren soil. No matter how much we water it, nothing grows.

Real change has never sprung from the palaces of the powerful. It is born in the streets, the fields, the classrooms, the plazas. It comes from people who decide they will wait no longer. Our neighbors in Southeast Asia remind us of this truth. In Nepal and Indonesia, when corruption and arrogance became unbearable, people marched in fury and even stormed the homes of the mighty. They understood that silence is not neutrality—it is surrender.

We too have seen it in our own history. The world knows the power of Filipinos when they come together, when they refuse to be paralyzed by leadership that has forgotten its duty. Those moments remind us that leaders do not always lead. More often than not, they are forced to move because the people demand it. We have done it before, and we can do it again.

But the struggle we face today is not just about personalities. It is about a system that has grown resistant to change. A system that feeds on corruption the way a body feeds on blood. A system that rewards loyalty to people instead of loyalty to principles. A system that celebrates showmanship instead of service. To expect this system to reform itself out of goodwill is to expect the impossible.

This is why hopeless hope must be transformed. It cannot be left to rot into despair. It must become the fuel for action. Hope must learn to walk, to march, to demand. Hope must live not in the speeches of politicians but in the determination of communities that refuse to be silenced or bribed.

I think of the teacher who insists on telling her students the truth, the farmer who refuses to surrender his land to exploitation, the young Filipino who dares to question the narratives of the powerful, the parents who remind their children that dignity is worth more than convenience. Each act may seem small, but when multiplied across a nation, they become a wave no government can resist.

If we keep waiting, then truly, we are waiting for nothing. Progress will not fall from the heavens of Malacañang, nor will it sprout from a bureaucracy addicted to mediocrity. Progress will only come when the people decide that enough is enough, when they wrestle it from a corrupt system with their own hands and voices.

We must stop hoping for hopeless hope. We must build living hope—a hope that moves and acts, a hope that forces leaders to follow rather than begs them to lead. A hope that refuses to die quietly in the silence of waiting.

The time is now. Not tomorrow, not when it becomes convenient, not when leaders finally notice us. A hungry stomach knows no law, a victim of injustice has no patience, and a people ignored for too long will not wait forever.

Change is not coming. Change is already here. It is in our hands, waiting for us to claim it.

_____

 *About the author:

Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission.

VIEWS: 143K

Sympathy in Philippine Politics: From Ninoy to Digong, From Cory to Sara

*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD

I have been observing how this government maneuvers its way around the delicate issue of former President Rodrigo Duterte and the cases filed against him in the International Criminal Court. To me, it is clear: they will never allow Digong to die in The Hague. They will even go to extraordinary lengths to prolong his life. Why? Because they know the political consequences of such a death.
 
If Digong were to pass away in a foreign cell, under the custody of international judges, it would not just be a legal tragedy—it would be a political earthquake. His death in The Hague would transform him from a controversial leader into a symbol of national humiliation, a Filipino president who died away from his own land, judged by foreigners. The Filipino psyche, bound deeply by notions of loyalty and honor, would not take this sitting down.
 
And in that moment, all the political attacks and smear campaigns against Vice President Sara Duterte would suddenly look trivial, even irrelevant. The people’s sympathy would swell toward her, not simply because she is his daughter, but because she would represent continuity, defiance, and pride. The death of Digong in such a place would immortalize his name in the minds of his loyalists and, more importantly, cast Sara as the rightful heir to the struggle.
 
We have seen this pattern before in our history. When Ninoy Aquino was assassinated in 1983, it ignited a firestorm of anger and sympathy that propelled his widow, Cory Aquino, to the presidency in 1986. Years later, when Cory passed away in 2009, the political landscape was instantly reshaped. At that time, Mar Roxas was the sure standard-bearer for the Liberal Party in 2010, but the nation’s outpouring of grief for Cory catapulted her son, Noynoy Aquino, into the presidency instead. In the span of days, sympathy shifted the weight of history and changed the country’s political destiny.
 
Even Joseph “Erap” Estrada offers a telling example. Ousted in 2001 through People Power II and later convicted of plunder, he might have been written off as politically finished. Yet, public sympathy for his downfall kept him alive in the hearts of many Filipinos. By 2010, less than a decade after his ouster, he nearly pulled off a stunning comeback, finishing a strong second in the presidential race. His resilience proved that once the masses feel an injustice—real or perceived—no legal judgment can fully erase a leader’s influence.
 
What is even more striking is how that sympathy extended beyond Estrada himself. His wife, Loi Ejercito Estrada, was swept into the Senate in 2001, just months after his removal from Malacañang. Later on, his sons, Jinggoy Estrada and JV Ejercito, also captured seats in the Senate. This shows that sympathy, once ignited, can nourish an entire political clan, carrying the family name forward even when its patriarch has fallen.
 
And then came Ferdinand “Bongbong” Marcos Jr. After decades of exile, humiliation, and relentless criticism of his family’s legacy, he turned the tide of public opinion. The narrative of being wronged, of being unfairly vilified, resonated with millions. In 2022, that long-cultivated sympathy and sense of redemption culminated in his election as President of the Republic of the Philippines—a landslide victory that would have seemed unthinkable in the years immediately after the 1986 People Power Revolution.
 
These examples all point to one undeniable truth: in Philippine politics, sympathy can transform grief into victory, and humiliation into redemption. Ninoy’s death gave Cory the presidency. Cory’s death gave Noynoy the presidency. Erap’s downfall gave rise to his wife and sons in the Senate. Marcos’ fall eventually brought Bongbong back to Malacañang. By the same pattern, if Digong were to meet his end in The Hague, Sara Duterte’s path to Malacañang in 2028 would not just be possible—it would be inevitable.
 
That is why, no matter what this administration does—whether it is calculated investigations, political isolation, or attempts to clip her wings—the political tide would turn. The sympathy vote alone would carry Sara straight to Malacañang in 2028. It would not just be a strong chance; it would be a sure victory.
 
History has shown us, time and again, that Filipinos rally around leaders who are perceived to have been wronged or humiliated. Sympathy in Philippine politics is like wildfire—it begins with a spark, spreads beyond one person, and consumes the nation’s heart. Once it catches flame, no amount of effort can contain it. Should Digong’s story end in The Hague, Sara’s story in 2028 begins not as a possibility, but as destiny. 

___________________

 *About the author:

Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission.

VIEWS: 138K

The Flood of Truths is Yet to Come to Kontrabidas When You Challenge Ping Lacson

*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD

 

My daughter Juliana Rizalhea and I were curled up watching Kontrabida Academy on Netflix when a line pierced my heart: history was described as digging up the dirt on people, or uncovering skeletons in the closet. That simple, almost harsh truth stayed with me long after the screen went dark. Because, really, history isn’t just about celebrating shining heroes—it’s about staring bravely into the faces of villains, the “Na Felling-Bida” who twist emotions and weave lies, and all the other kontrabida we’d rather pretend don’t exist. Sometimes, the most heartbreaking “kontrabida” isn’t the villain everyone points at but the one who ruins the carefully written script, revealing those who hide behind the “Barong Tagalog” while covering up their sins, walking away untouched. And it’s exactly this kind of kontrabida—the one who spoils the story—that we must learn to recognize and understand.

This is who Senator Ping Lacson, Chairman of the Senate BlueRibbon Committee, has become in our public life: the kontrabida of all kontrabidas. A proud graduate of the Philippine Military Academy Class of ’71, a former Chief of the Philippine National Police, and a lawmaker with decades of experience in the Senate, Lacson has proven himself time and again to be an untiring investigator—relentlessly digging beneath the surface to expose truths many would rather keep hidden, fearlessly confronting powerful elites, unraveling webs of deception, and shaking the foundations of the very institutions some believe untouchable.

I say this not only as an observer of politics but also as an educator who has taught men who are now respected leaders in the Philippine National Police. Many of my former students, as well as close friends in uniformed service within the AFP and PNP, often shared their admiration for then PNP Chief Panfilo “Ping” Lacson. They spoke of his discipline, integrity, and no-nonsense leadership that earned both fear and respect in equal measure. In their stories, Lacson was remembered not as a man who demanded loyalty, but as a leader who inspired it through example. That, to me, is a rare kind of respect—one that cannot be bought or faked. Retired Police Major General Thompson Lantion, PMA Class of ’69, echoed this sentiment, describing Ping Lacson as a leader whose unwavering commitment to discipline and justice left an indelible mark on the institution and on those who served under him.

And now comes this weathered grandfather, a neophyte senator—old in years but new to the Senate—puffed up with arrogance, strutting around like a know-it-all in law and investigation, as if age alone bestows wisdom. In his arrogance, he sought to cast doubt on Lacson’s fitness to lead the Blue-Ribbon Committee. But in doing so, he has effectively signed an invisible waiver, giving Lacson every reason to dig deep into his past. Worse still, this grandfather neophyte has revealed his true colors: he is blatantly defending and lawyering for the self-confessed plunderer construction firm owners. Only the blind—or the willfully ignorant—cannot see it.

This senator carries himself as though he is the most intelligent in the chamber. He nitpicks at every statement of his colleagues, interrupts them, corrects them, as if no one else could possibly measure up to his self-proclaimed brilliance. But arrogance has a way of blinding men to their own vulnerabilities. In challenging the integrity, intelligence, and legacy of Ping Lacson, he has forgotten one thing: skeletons don’t stay buried forever, especially when Ping Lacson is the one holding the spade.

So do not be surprised. In the coming days expect more dirt, more odor, and more bad secrets to surface about this neophyte senator. He would be wise to prepare not by plotting attacks, but by making sure his own record can withstand scrutiny—because the alternative is obvious: he will be forced to twist and deflect, attempting to turn fresh facts into lies to protect himself. And the public will watch whether those defenses hold or only deepen the wound.

When you challenge him, do not expect silence. Expect more. Expect revelations. Expect that what was hidden will be dragged into the light, no matter how tightly locked the closet doors may seem. For Senator Ping Lacson, PMA graduate, former Chief of the PNP, and veteran lawmaker, plays the kontrabida not for himself, but for a people tired of being deceived. In a political landscape where so many villains prosper, he is the rare kontrabida who ruins the villains’ game.

____________

 *About the author:

Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission.

VIEWS: 120K

A Chance for Tamayo and Magalong: The Pendulum of Philippine Politics and the Prospect of 2028

*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD

Philippine politics has always moved like a pendulum, swinging back and forth in response to the failures and excesses of those in power. If massive corruption continues to dominate our national narrative until 2027, then by 2028 it is almost certain that the political mood will shift toward a leader who embodies anti-corruption and good governance. This is the pattern we have seen repeatedly in our history. After the authoritarian rule of Marcos Sr., the people turned to Cory Aquino, who symbolized honesty and democracy. After the corruption scandals of Joseph Estrada, Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo stepped in as a stabilizer. When Arroyo herself was tainted by controversy, Noynoy Aquino rose to power with the rallying cry, “Kung walangcorrupt, walang mahirap.” Each leadership choice was less about ideology and more about reaction—the people seeking the opposite of what had failed them before.

If the flood control scam, questionable deals, and misuse of public funds continue to define this administration’s legacy, the next election will be shaped by outrage and the longing for integrity. It is in this political atmosphere that someone like Baguio City Mayor Benjie Magalong could emerge as a natural beneficiary of the people’s frustration. Magalong has consistently built a reputation as a reformist leader, unafraid to challenge entrenched interests. As a police general, he is best remembered for his courage in leading the Mamasapano Board of Inquiry in 2015, where he spoke truth to power and revealed uncomfortable facts about command responsibility. That act of integrity cost him politically within the police hierarchy, but it won him the respect of many Filipinos who saw in him a rare official who put truth above careerism. As mayor of Baguio, he has continued to uphold transparency, accountability, and discipline, making good governance more than just a slogan.

But Magalong may not be alone in this reformist lane. Gov. Reynaldo Tamayo Jr. of South Cotabato could emerge as a dark horse in 2028. Unlike the traditional political heavyweights, Tamayo has quietly built his image as a pragmatic provincial leader who delivers results without the noise of national theatrics. His leadership has now expanded beyond his province: he was reelected as President of the League of Provinces of the Philippines (LPP) and continues to serve as Chairman of the Union of Local Authorities of the Philippines (ULAP), positions that grant him both national visibility and influence among governors, mayors, and local officials across the country. Coupled with his role as national president of the Partido Federal ng Pilipinas, Tamayo now sits at the center of a powerful network of local executives. Add to this his track record in South Cotabato, particularly his free education initiatives, and he presents himself as a credible grassroots-oriented alternative. His relatively quiet demeanor compared to louder national figures could become his strength, especially if the electorate grows weary of traditional dynastic personalities.

If the country enters 2028 drowning in scandals and disillusionment, candidates like Magalong and Tamayo represent a different kind of leadership—grounded in discipline, honesty, and public service rather than entrenched political privilege. They may not have the machinery of dynasties, but they carry something potentially more powerful: credibility. That credibility could resonate strongly with an electorate tired of recycled names and promises.

Still, the bigger challenge lies not in the emergence of leaders, but in the maturity of the electorate. The pendulum will swing, yes—but where it lands will depend on the Filipino people’s ability to distinguish between genuine reformers and populists who only wear the mask of integrity. Our nation has been betrayed before by leaders who promised change but delivered the same politics of self-interest. If Filipinos truly want 2028 to be a turning point, we must go beyond slogans and personalities. We must demand a government that acts, not just talks; that delivers reforms, not just rhetoric.

In the end, the possibility of a Magalong or a Tamayo candidacy is not simply about two men’s leadership—it is about whether the Filipino people are finally ready to reward honesty and competence with the highest office of the land. If corruption continues unchecked, the demand for integrity will define the next elections. And perhaps, just perhaps, the pendulum will swing in favor of true reform.

  ____________

 *About the author:

Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission.

VIEWS: 125K

Watching the Forgery Unfold in the Senate: A Nation Held Hostage

 *Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD

I was sitting in my home office room while my daughter Juliana Rizalhea was busy in her Taekwondo training on the floor stretching her legs, the television humming in the background, when the spectacle began. It was supposed to be a hearing—a solemn exercise of truth and accountability. But as I watched the cameras zoom in on the so-called witness, clutching notarized statements like weapons, I felt the air change. Something was wrong. The words rolling off his tongue did not carry the weight of honesty; they carried the stench of fabrication.

I leaned closer to the screen, half in disbelief, half in anger. Here it was again—the old trick of Philippine politics. Falsified documents paraded as gospel truth, testimonies rehearsed in backrooms now dressed up as revelations under oath. It wasn’t the pursuit of justice I was seeing; it was a cheap play, staged for cameras, orchestrated for political ends.

And this is what pains me most: every Filipino wants the true mastermind of the flood control scandal to be jailed. We all want accountability for the billions stolen and the lives destroyed by ghost projects and substandard works. But not like this—not through fake evidence and planted witnesses. For to use forgery in the name of justice is to mock justice itself. It does not jail the guilty; it frees them. It does not expose the truth; it buries it beneath layers of deceit.

As the session dragged on, I could not help but ask myself: how many times have we seen this before? How many investigations have been poisoned by forged papers, notarized lies, and the prostitution of truth? How many institutions have been dragged down, not by evidence, but by the fabrication of it?

And the ones who preside over these lies—they wear barong, they carry titles, they speak the language of law. Yet what they truly are, I realized, are forgers. Not legislators, not truth-seekers, but forgers in barong. They manufacture deceit the way others draft bills, and they do it with the confidence of men who know they will get away with it.

Sitting there, I felt the weight of betrayal. Our democracy was not being defended; it was being defiled, live on national television. What struck me most was not only the brazenness of the forgery, but the silence in the room—the nods, the complicit stares, the absence of outrage. Lies were being legitimized by the very people sworn to protect the truth.

This is the rot that has taken root in our politics. It is not just about corruption anymore; it is about the normalization of deceit. A forged paper today, a falsified witness tomorrow—until, one day, truth itself becomes irrelevant. And when that day comes, what will be left of our democracy?

As the hearing ended, I switched off the television. But the image of that witness, clutching his notarized lies, stayed with me. It was not just a scene from the Senate floor—it was a mirror held up to our nation. A reminder that unless we demand accountability, unless we spit out the forgers who rot in their barongs, we will continue to be held hostage by lies.

Yes, we want the guilty jailed. But we want them jailed through truth—not through fabrications. Only then can justice be real. Only then can democracy survive.

   ____________

 *About the author:

Dr. Rodolfo “John” Ortiz Teope is a distinguished Filipino academic, public intellectual, and advocate for civic education and public safety, whose work spans local academies and international security circles. With a career rooted in teaching, research, policy, and public engagement, he bridges theory and practice by making meaningful contributions to academic discourse, civic education, and public policy. Dr. Teope is widely respected for his critical scholarship in education, management, economics, doctrine development, and public safety; his grassroots involvement in government and non-government organizations; his influential media presence promoting democratic values and civic consciousness; and his ethical leadership grounded in Filipino nationalism and public service. As a true public intellectual, he exemplifies how research, advocacy, governance, and education can work together in pursuit of the nation’s moral and civic mission.

VIEWS: 201K