‘Never Forget’ Rings New Truth and Meaning as the Fight for Accountability is Far From Over

As the floodwater has gone down and with threats of new ones looming, a new narrative has emerged— the typhoons have not only washed away homes and infrastructure, it unveiled cracks in the system that had long been hidden beneath the surface.

For months, people have watched videos and seen photos of submerged towns and cracked dikes, yet political figures echoed the exact words every time— ‘investigate.’ 

When the streets of Manila and provinces pulsated with energy on that fateful September 21, students, workers, and ordinary citizens marched under the downpour of rain, echoing the voices of thousands united in a single purpose: accountability. The anger wasn’t just about the flood; it was about everything that made them inevitable.

Power without Consequence

The numbers are staggering. Billion pesos have been linked to questionable flood control projects since 2022, even long before it. There were missing records, substandard materials, and worse, ghost project sites. 

After weeks of public pressure, President Marcos Jr. issued Executive Order No. 94, or the Independent Commission for Infrastructure (ICI), a fact-finding body set to dig into alleged corruption and misuse of funds in flood-control projects from the past ten years.

“They will not be spared,” Marcos said in his press briefing on the ICI.

The Commission on Audit, together with the Anti-Money Laundering Council, began its own investigation and froze accounts associated with contractors and officials allegedly involved in the flood control issue. 

However, that was months ago. Since then, all we’ve heard are updates with no real answers on who’s being held accountable and how much can actually be recovered. The process feels slow and quiet, as if it is waiting for public interest to fade.

So far, the ICI has flagged dozens of ghost projects. The Commission on Audit confirmed irregularities in several provinces. Some engineers admitted they were told to sign off on substandard work. And yet—no charges, no justice.

It is so familiar. Every few years, a scandal breaks, outrage peaks, and then everything quietly slips back to “normal.” It’s the cycle that keeps corruption alive.

The flood control issue is about survival. Every wasted peso in those projects means one more family left defenseless when the rains come. It’s always the people in the margins who suffer first — the ones who lose their homes, livelihoods, and sometimes their lives.

Corruption does not just steal funds; it steals trust. It leads citizens to stop believing that paying taxes or, worse, exercising their voting rights can make a difference. When people see the same problems recurring, it fosters cynicism instead of accountability, and that is the danger.

What we choose to remember

The Trillion Peso March on September 21 was a spark, but it will die without fuel—and it shouldn’t. The hashtags disappeared from timelines. New controversies start taking over, almost as if they’re meant to bury the issue of corruption.

But silence was never neutral; it was consent. When we stop talking, we give corruption room to grow back.

Forgetting is the best cover-up that corruption can ask for. It doesn’t need to silence us; it just needs to bore us until we stop caring. That is why remembering matters—not as nostalgia or rage, but as resistance. When we remember, we keep the pressure alive. We remind those in power that we are still watching.

The true battle lies ahead. Accountability doesn’t happen only in the streets. It continues in classrooms, on social media, and in daily conversations. It requires diligence and an unwavering spirit.

The task is not merely to seek answers, but to ensure that the memory of the flood stays alive in the hearts and minds of people. Let us transform the remnants of despair into a foundation for reform. 

Ask questions and support investigative journalists who keep digging. If you’re a student, talk about it in your organization. If you’re online, share verified updates instead of rumors. Small acts of resistance can accumulate, creating a wave that even the strongest currents cannot wash away.

The September 21 protest was not the finish line—it was the start of what comes next. The floods will come again; they always do, but what we can choose is whether we let the same story repeat itself.

Though the waters may have receded, the fight for justice and integrity must continue undeterred. The challenge is not just in recovering from the floods, but in reclaiming our faith in the system.

Because the water may slowly go down, but the truth is still buried deep. And until we uncover it, we can’t call this a recovery.