Talk About Irony

Wait — former House Speaker Martin Romualdez is under investigation by the Office of the Ombudsman regarding a multi-billion-peso flood-control corruption scandal?

That news immediately brought back memories.

I remember something about Martin Romualdez and floods. It was late 2024, shortly after the floodwaters from Typhoon Kristine had subsided. My colleagues and I joined massive crowds packing the Jesse M. Robredo (JMR) Coliseum in Naga City. We were there to receive a government cash payout intended for typhoon victims. Naturally, I was eager to get my hands on some financial relief.

The distribution was managed by DSWD personnel, including a female staffer onstage who was barking out instructions that, with all due respect, were thoroughly confusing. Compounding the chaos was the stifling heat from poor ventilation and a campaign-style jingle blasting on loop through the sound system. At first, I didn't pay much attention, but the endless repetition forced the lyrics into my head:

“Martin, Martin Romualdez…”

Followed by a line or two extolling his virtues as a public servant. To the composer's credit, it was undeniably catchy. You could have organized a dance contest around it. It had all the hallmarks of an election campaign song—the only thing missing was an explicit "Vote for Martin Romualdez."

When we arrived, the venue was already overflowing, and people were still streaming in. Rows of staffers sat at tables ready to hand out cash, but the distribution was held up for an opening program. Local political figures took turns at the mic—former Mayor Legacion, former Congressman Bordado, and if memory serves, former Congressman (now fugitive) Zaldy Co. In their speeches, they all subtly dropped hints that Romualdez would make a fine President of the Philippines.

Finally, the grand sponsor himself spoke. Speaker Romualdez took the stage, professing his deep love for Bicolanos and his desire to help us. (Okay, okay—just show us the money.)

It was government money, of course, but optically, Romualdez was framed as the benevolent benefactor easing our suffering. Fast forward to today, and he—along with other lawmakers and DPWH officials—is under investigation for a massive flood-control corruption scandal.

Talk about irony. Who knows? Maybe that cash distribution was just a down payment to console flood victims for the very infrastructure failure that put us underwater in the first place.

Speaking of systemic irony, I'm still waiting for "system loss" charges to be scrapped from my electric bill.

A few weeks ago, over coffee, I was venting to friends about my outrageously high CASURECO bill. I complained that I barely got ₱200 in change from an ₱8,000 payment. To my dismay, my friends revealed they were being charged ₱9,000 to ₱10,000. It turned out I actually had it easy.

As it happens, this practice of passing system losses on to consumers is explicitly baked into the law—specifically the Electric Power Industry Reform Act of 2001 (EPIRA / R.A. 9136) alongside the Anti-Electricity Pilferage Act (R.A. 7832). Under this framework, distribution utilities and electric cooperatives are permitted to charge consumers for: Technical Loss: Electricity naturally lost as heat or resistance through power lines and transformers, and Non-Technical Loss: Commercial losses resulting from power theft, illegal jumpers, meter tampering, or billing errors.

We, the paying consumers, are subsidizing electricity stolen by others and lost in transit.

And who was the principal author who shepherded EPIRA through Congress? None other than former House Speaker Arnulfo "Noli" Fuentebella, patriarch of Partido’s Fuentebella clan, during his tenure as Chairman of the House Committee on Energy.

You can't entirely blame the legislators of 2001. The central premise of EPIRA was that transitioning away from a state-run monopoly to a deregulated, competitive market would boost efficiency and dramatically lower power costs. Yet decades later, a law enacted to reduce electricity prices has directly institutionalized high power bills. Talk about irony.

The President called on Congress to pass tax relief measures for low- to middle-income earners and small businesses.

Yet, the President proposing tax exemptions possesses a well-documented history with the tax code himself: a 1995 RTC conviction, a 1997 Court of Appeals ruling upholding his failure to file income tax returns, and the high-profile 2022 Supreme Court disqualification petitions. Talk about irony.

Some commentators have called this the "worst SONA ever." I beg to differ.

I have lived through SONAs that were little more than petty attacks against political opponents, punctuated by routine profanity, or capped off with a victory lap over the frnchise denial of the nation's largest broadcast network. This recent one was, at the very least, a decent SONA.

Proverbs 26:27

"If anyone digs a pit, they will fall into it; if anyone rolls a stone, it will roll back on them."