Soliloquy on the Impeachment Gone Astray

Have you found yourself sometimes talking, mumbling some phrases, or even giving a speech without an audience, just talking to yourself or thinking aloud, and the people around you would think you are out of your mind or having a quick episode of senility? Sort of Shakespeare’s soliloquy, “To be or not to be, that is the question.” My husband had caught me once or twice in a trance-like state long ago, mumbling something, oftentimes with audible words, as if I were in a momentary daze. I was in a state of worry over nothing.

Last week, I had my soliloquy on the impeachment gone astray. I found myself talking to myself or thinking aloud about things I cannot speak aloud. At the same time, no one else seems to hear— as I talk in soliloquy about the impeachment gone forthwith back to the sender, the House of Representatives, to “certify” and affirm. Talking out loud to myself may seem embarrassing if done in public, but I did not care. I was overwhelmed with justifiable anger and disappointment.

I spoke my innermost thoughts and rumbled emotions to a perceived audience, with a sense of intimacy and secrecy for fear I would be heard and misunderstood. I was reflecting out loud, expressing inner contradictions, questioning, and answering them simultaneously. Who cares? I was freely expressing myself, a democratic exercise of my right to express rage over the fact that I was actually in bed already, with the images of the Senators in my head, arguing over the proposed amendment of Peter Cayetano and Koko Pimentel, with Risa Hontiveros bravely opposing.

And so, my soliloquy went this way.

Oh, what a somber day it was when justice, cloaked in the guise of law, falters before the weight of politics and power. The halls of the Senate—once envisioned as the bastions of accountability—have fallen silent, unwilling to carry the torch of truth and integrity.

Philippines’ Vice President Sara Duterte, accused of embezzling millions of public funds as Education secretary, a controversial figure of power and daughter of a former chief of state now at the ICC, stands unscathed, her fate untouched by the pursuit of justice. Wherefore, this failure? Was it fear that gripped the hearts of those entrusted to serve the people? Or perhaps a more profound, insidious complacency that whispers, “Not now, not here.”

The Filipino people, weary and hopeful, looked on with bated breath, yearning for a system that upholds fairness and transparency. Yet, they witnessed a lamentable abdication—a capitulation to the shadows of favoritism and political expediency. Impeachment, meant to be a tool of accountability, became a mere echo of what it once was—a hollow gesture, a symbol of unfulfilled promises. Once poised to weigh truth, the scales of justice now hang imbalanced, tilting away from righteousness and into the realm of the compromised.

And so, I ask myself—what becomes of a nation that shirks its duty in the face of moral conviction? Does it breed cynicism? Does it deepen the wounds of disillusionment? Or does it serve as a stark reminder that true justice demands courage—courage drawn from the very marrow of our collective spirit? Oh, how power and money can sway votes and swing decisions in front of millions of people, across all generations.

In this silence, in this failure, lies a lesson—a call to all who cherish the ideals of democracy: that the path of integrity is often perilous, yet it is the only way forward. We must hope that someday, the voices of the people will rise above the din of indifference and demand the justice long denied. For how long? Muffled voices of protest continue. The wounds remain until then, and the dream of a just Philippines lingers, dimming but never entirely extinguishing.

While some might find soliloquies embarrassing or too personal, because of the revealing nature of the inner thoughts—angry or disappointed—these thoughts conveyed the depth of my emotions at the time, freely expressed without fear and reservation.

Tell me, is this not a mockery of the constitution and democracy, a tragedy of misguided justice? I feel a dagger pierced through my body, painful rage, a damning pain. Why, forthwith, did the senator chief throw the articles of impeachment back to the dungeon? Can he not see the simple logic of the Philippine Constitution that the Senate is a co-equal of the House of Representatives and cannot order the latter at any time to do what it wants to do? Then suddenly, the senators assumed to be impartial jumped into a fray when the dynastic Cayetano called for an amendment to try to change the course of action.

Why, forthwith, did the senators create a circus of themselves? This betrayal of their sworn duty as bearers of truth and judgment is a big farce—a comedy of all errors. Democracy has died a hundred times when senators fail to deliver and make a mockery of due process. Such a show of naked arrogance! I am raging in anger. End of soliloquy.