Flood control scam: Cases filed, but the powerful stay dry

MANILA (January 4) — The government has begun hauling suspects to court over the multibillion-peso flood control scam, but the early scorecard reveals a familiar pattern in Philippine governance: prosecutions flow downhill, while those at the top remain untouched.

After months of public anger over alleged ghost and substandard flood control projects, the Office of the Ombudsman has filed two batches of criminal cases.

The accused include contractors, district and regional engineers, and a former lawmaker now on the run. What is striking, however, is who is missing from the charge sheets—no incumbent or former senators, no Cabinet-level officials, and no senior budget decision-makers.

For communities repeatedly submerged by floods, this selective accountability cuts deep.

Promises vs. prosecutions

The scandal erupted in the second half of the year, just as former Ombudsman Samuel Martires ended his term, leaving the anti-graft office leaderless at a critical moment.

When Jesus Crispin Remulla assumed office on Oct. 10, he pledged an aggressive probe and reversed restrictive policies, including limits on public access to officials’ statements of assets, liabilities, and net worth.

President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. added political weight to the moment, warning that ranking officials could spend Christmas behind bars.

Christmas came and went. The “big fish” did not.

Accountability with a ceiling

The first cases, filed before the Sandiganbayan, involve an alleged P289.5-million substandard flood control project in Oriental Mindoro.

The second centers on a P96.5-million alleged ghost project in Davao Occidental. Both sets point to familiar defendants: DPWH engineers, private contractors, and middle-ranking officials—many now detained.

Anti-corruption advocates say this reflects a deeper governance problem.

“Flood control projects don’t approve themselves,” a civil society leader said. “Budgets are inserted, funded, and protected by people far above district offices.”

Yet despite earlier public statements naming senators and high-profile officials as possible respondents, none have been charged so far.

‘Strong cases,’ slow justice

Remulla insists the Ombudsman is prioritizing cases with “reasonable certainty of conviction,” even if that means moving slowly.

Assistant Ombudsman Mico Clavano said investigators are now focusing on hard evidence—digital trails, call logs, and financial records—to avoid cases collapsing in court.

But governance experts warn that delay carries its own risks: evidence goes cold, witnesses lose courage, and public trust erodes.

The uncertainty surrounding the Independent Commission for Infrastructure (ICI), created by Malacañang to help probe the scam, has only intensified fears that momentum could fade before the most powerful players are held to account.

Communities pay the real price

For ordinary Filipinos, this is not just about court filings and legal thresholds. Flood control corruption has a human cost—homes underwater, crops destroyed, families displaced, and lives lost during every major storm.

“The money stolen from flood control is money stolen from safety,” a barangay leader in a flood-prone area said. “When accountability stops short, disasters become inevitable.”

As the government promises more cases “in the coming months,” communities are watching closely. The flood control scam has become a defining test of whether anti-corruption efforts under this administration will challenge power—or merely manage outrage.

Until the net reaches those who designed, funded, and protected the scam, many Filipinos will see the message as painfully clear: in corruption cases, the floods reach the poor, but accountability does not.