*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD, DM
“The best way out of a problem is through it.” -- Anonymous
That line first
entered my life when I was in Grade 4, printed on a porcelain display that sat
quietly on my sister Ate Minda’s study table in our humble home at 17-C 1st
Avenue Manggahan, Barangay Bagong Lipunan ng Crame Quezon City. I did reflect
on its meaning then, but something about it struck me deeply. As the years
passed, as I entered public service, and as I studied governance and witnessed the
storms that leaders endure, those words resurfaced again and again. And as I
grew older, they revealed themselves not as advice, but as truth.
Years later,
that porcelain message found its purpose when a retired General—once my
student—called me. His voice carried urgency:
“Sir Dok Jhan, a mayor
is drowning politically. He trusts only you to tell him the truth.”
When I met the
mayor, I found a man besieged by storms coming from every direction. His
municipal hall had devolved into a tangle of shifting loyalties and whispered
betrayals. Relatives who campaigned for him now demanded positions and
influence. Allies defected when self-interest called. A councilor facing
corruption accusations released a dramatic audiotape recording blaming him to save himself. A
scandal involving the city engineer—where he had no involvement—was pinned on
him to create a narrative of incompetence.
Then came the
wound that pierced him the most: a family member publicly hinted that he once
had connections to illegal substances. The remark spread like wildfire, turning
into political ammunition overnight. And as this unfolded, a political opponent
quietly mobilized barangay leaders for a Recall Election, gathering signatures
to unseat him.
One evening,
the mayor asked me, “How do I fight all of them at once?”
I remembered
the porcelain quote from childhood and told him:
“The best way out of a problem is through it.”
I explained
that he could not win by reacting to everything. He had to walk through the
storm—fix his house, fix himself, and let his work defend him better than words
ever could.
He listened.
And then he
acted.
He refocused on real governance—strengthening his town’s business climate, launching programs for the poor, tightening procurement policies, and intensifying peace and order initiatives. But what saved him was his courage to confront internal rot. He replaced compromised department heads, filed cases against corrupt officials, distanced himself from problematic relatives, disciplined his own child who served in office, and even requested the suspension of his own brother-in-law, the Vice Mayor.
His spouse—maliciously targeted by rumors—left local affairs entirely and focused on business elsewhere. And when it came to a sibling who attacked him publicly during council sessions, he chose reconciliation over retaliation and healed the wounds privately.
He survived not
because the storm stopped, but because he became stronger than it. He walked
through the problem, and in doing so he earned back public trust.
Today, the
President stands in a storm almost identical to the mayor’s—except his storm is
national, louder, and far more complex.
He faces
controversies involving people close to him, magnified by power brokers eager
to weaponize them. Old remarks from within his own circle continue to haunt
him, crafted into narratives by those who seek to weaken his leadership before
2028. His political coalition shows fractures as former allies—particularly
those with strong digital machinery—now attack him daily.
The
destabilization coming from groups once aligned with him is the most potent
threat he faces. These insiders understand how to weaponize narratives, fuel
anger, and shake institutional confidence. Their storytelling frames him as
weak, indecisive, and disconnected. Their networks mobilize emotions quickly,
and their messaging spreads across digital spaces faster than official
communication ever could.
In the
legislature, quiet power struggles multiply. Alliances tremble. The political
class watches closely, sensing shifts in the wind. The bureaucracy experiences
silent hesitation as some officials await which faction will dominate the
coming years. Meanwhile, the military remains professional and neutral—perhaps
the most stabilizing force preventing a total collapse.
But the
economy, more than anything else, threatens political survival. Ordinary
Filipinos can tolerate scandal. They can endure political drama. But they
cannot endure a kitchen that grows emptier by the day. Inflation and food
prices weigh heavily on households. And in our country, it is always the
condition of the dinner table—not the speeches in Congress—that determines a
president’s fate.
Despite all
this, the President’s administration has not collapsed. Institutional
foundations remain intact. The public’s frustration is real, but not yet the
kind that leads to mass uprising. The elite has fractured, but not fatally. The
military is stable. The bureaucracy still functions.
But stability
is not the same as strength.
Survival is not
the same as leadership.
Continuance is
not the same as control.
So can the
President finish his term until 2028?
Yes—but only if
he is willing to walk through the storm, not around it.
He must
confront the corruption allegations close to his circle.
He must
confront the fractures in his coalition.
He must
confront the digital destabilization from former allies.
He must
confront the economic pain in the Filipino household.
He must
confront the truth within his own leadership.
He cannot
merely endure the storm—he must rise within it.
The mayor
survived because he confronted what needed to be confronted, even when it was
painful. The President now stands before the same crossroads, holding the same
choice. His survival will not depend on the enemies shouting from afar, but on
the courage he shows toward those standing closest to him.
History always
asks the same question to leaders caught in a storm:
Will you walk
around it—or through it?
As I once told
that mayor, guided by a porcelain wisdom I learned as a child:
“The best way out of a problem is through it.”
And when a leader finally understands that truth, he discovers there are no shortcuts around responsibility, no detours around truth, and no lasting triumph for those who run away.
Only those who
walk into the storm with courage
ever walk out
of it transformed—
and worthy of
the future they hope to reach.
____
