On Sunday, September 21, 2025, the streets of Manila became the stage for a dramatic and deeply emotional outpouring of public anger, as thousands of Filipinos rallied against a sprawling corruption scandal tied to the nation’s flood-control projects. While a majority of demonstrators gathered peacefully at city landmarks, a violent clash near the presidential palace resulted in dozens of arrests, scores of injured police officers, and the temporary closure of schools across the capital, according to reports from the Associated Press and Los Angeles Times.
Philippine police said that 49 people were arrested outside the Malacanang presidential palace after being accused of hurling rocks, bottles, and fire bombs at officers and blocking heavily guarded roads and bridges. The melee, which lasted several hours, involved about 100 mostly club-wielding individuals, some waving Philippine flags and others brandishing black flags featuring a skull and crossbones caricature. Authorities reported that approximately 70 law enforcement officers were wounded during the rampage, which also saw graffiti sprayed on walls, steel posts toppled, glass panels shattered, and the lobby of a motel ransacked along a busy thoroughfare lined with university campuses, banks, and restaurants.
Police responded with tear gas in an attempt to disperse the attackers, and by nightfall, the group had melted away into the city. In the aftermath, police issued a statement declaring the situation “contained” but warned that “violence and vandalism would not be tolerated.” The identities of many of the attackers remained unknown, and it was unclear whether they had initially participated in the peaceful protests before heading toward the seat of government power. It was also not immediately known if President Ferdinand “Bongbong” Romualdez Marcos Jr. was present in the palace during the unrest.
Despite the violence near the palace, the broader protest movement maintained a resolutely peaceful character. More than 33,000 demonstrators—students, workers, clergy, and everyday citizens—gathered at historic parks and the democracy monument in Manila, denouncing what they described as endemic corruption in the country’s flood-control infrastructure. The scandal at the heart of their outrage involves lawmakers, government officials, and construction company owners who allegedly pocketed massive kickbacks from public projects meant to protect the storm-battered archipelago from devastating floods.
“I feel bad that we wallow in poverty and we lose our homes, our lives, and our future while they rake in a big fortune from our taxes that pay for their luxury cars, foreign trips, and bigger corporate transactions,” said student activist Althea Trinidad, speaking to the Associated Press. Trinidad, who lives in Bulacan—a flood-prone province north of Manila—pointed out that many of the projects under scrutiny in her region were found to be either substandard or nonexistent.
The roots of the current scandal stretch back to mid-2022, when President Marcos Jr. took office. Since then, a staggering 9,855 flood-control projects, worth more than $9.5 billion, have come under investigation for alleged anomalies. The president first brought the issue to national attention in his annual state of the nation speech in July, describing the scale of corruption as “horrible.” He responded by establishing an independent commission to probe the allegations and accepted the resignation of his public works secretary—a move seen by many as an acknowledgment of the gravity of the crisis.
Public outrage reached a boiling point after a wealthy couple who owned several construction companies—recipients of lucrative government contracts—flaunted their extravagant lifestyles in media interviews. The couple showcased dozens of European and American luxury cars, including a British vehicle costing $737,000, which they claimed they purchased because it “came with a free umbrella.” The display of opulence, in stark contrast to the poverty and vulnerability faced by millions of Filipinos living in flood-prone areas, fueled widespread anger and drew sharp criticism from protest leaders and ordinary citizens alike.
“While there are people who suffer from the storms and floods, there are those allegedly involved in corruption in these projects who are flaunting their rich lifestyles on social media,” said protest leader Francis Aquino Dee in an interview with GMA News, as cited by the Boston Globe.
Religious leaders also weighed in, urging the public to remain peaceful while demanding accountability from those in power. “Our purpose is not to destabilize but to strengthen our democracy,” Cardinal Pablo Virgilio David, head of the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines, said in a statement. He called on Filipinos to channel their anger into peaceful protest and to insist on transparency and justice.
The events in Manila are part of a broader wave of unrest sweeping through Southeast Asia, where frustration with political elites and economic inequality has led to mass demonstrations. In Indonesia, protests over perks for politicians recently turned violent following the death of a young motorcycle taxi driver, while in Nepal, deadly protests led by youth forced the resignation of top government officials earlier this month.
Back in Manila, the government’s response to the corruption scandal continues to be closely watched. The independent commission established by President Marcos Jr. faces the daunting task of investigating thousands of flood-control projects, many of which are suspected to be either shoddily constructed or never built at all. The president’s decision to accept the resignation of his public works secretary has been interpreted by some as a positive step toward accountability, but skepticism remains high among activists and ordinary citizens, who fear that justice may be elusive in a system long plagued by impunity and graft.
The closure of schools in the wake of the violence underscores the broader social impact of the unrest. For many families, the events of September 21 are a painful reminder of the country’s vulnerability—not only to the natural disasters that necessitate flood-control projects but also to the corrosive effects of corruption and political dysfunction.
As the dust settles, the voices of protest—both peaceful and defiant—continue to echo through the capital. Whether the government’s promises of reform will translate into real change remains to be seen, but for now, the people of the Philippines have made it clear that they will not remain silent in the face of injustice. The question now is whether those in power are truly listening.