On September 9, 2025, the Philippines found itself at the eye of a political storm, as a sprawling corruption scandal involving flood-control projects reached the highest echelons of government. The controversy, which has ignited public outrage and prompted government action, centers on allegations that senators, congressmen, and public works officials demanded and received massive kickbacks from state-funded flood-mitigation contracts—projects meant to shield millions from the country’s perennial floods.
The scandal burst into the public sphere when Brice Ericson Hernandez, a former engineer from the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH), testified under oath during a nationally televised House of Representatives committee inquiry. According to reporting by the Associated Press, Hernandez claimed that Senators Jinggoy Estrada and Joel Villanueva each received a 30% kickback from flood-control projects in Bulacan province in 2023—amounting to roughly 355 million pesos (about $6.2 million) for Estrada and 600 million pesos (about $10.5 million) for Villanueva. Hernandez alleged that the kickbacks were delivered by government drivers, but, notably, he offered no additional evidence to support his claims.
Both senators have fiercely denied the accusations. Estrada, visibly angered, dismissed the claims as a “big lie” and challenged Hernandez to a public lie-detector test, declaring, “I’m ready to prove that his allegations were all lies.” Villanueva, for his part, addressed the Senate directly, insisting, “I will never ever destroy the name that was given to me by my parents because it is priceless.” He claimed to have evidence to clear his name and underscored his determination to defend his reputation. The denials have done little to quell the uproar, as the scandal’s tentacles reach deep into the political establishment.
The revelations did not stop at the Senate. On September 8, 2025, Pacifico and Sarah Discaya, a wealthy couple who own a construction company, testified under oath before the Senate Blue Ribbon committee. They alleged that at least 17 members of the House of Representatives demanded kickbacks—about 25% of each project’s total cost—in exchange for helping them win lucrative government contracts. Although the Discayas did not provide specific amounts or detailed project information, they claimed to keep records of the dates and locations where bribes were paid. Their testimony was explosive, but it also came with a note of caution: “We fear for our safety because we don’t have protection yet,” Pacifico Discaya told senators, agreeing to provide more details in a closed-door session.
Other construction companies, summoned to testify, largely denied paying bribes to lawmakers or DPWH officials. Still, the Discayas’ account, coupled with Hernandez’s testimony, painted a picture of systemic graft. The scandal has already claimed one high-profile casualty: the public works secretary resigned prior to September 9, 2025, as investigations gathered steam.
President Ferdinand Marcos Jr., faced with mounting evidence and public anger, has taken a hard line. After inspecting several flood-control projects in the provinces—some of which he found to be substandard or, astonishingly, non-existent—Marcos described the scale and impunity of the corruption as “horrible.” He announced the formation of an independent commission tasked with investigating the anomalies and filing criminal charges against those responsible. In a move that signaled both urgency and frustration, he also withheld funding for flood-control projects in the 2026 budget, pending the outcome of the probe.
Marcos’s response has extended beyond the halls of government. He launched a website to encourage the public to report suspicious projects and corrupt practices. According to the Associated Press, the site has been swamped with thousands of complaints, reflecting a groundswell of citizen engagement—and, perhaps, exasperation. In a recent interview, the president became visibly emotional as he described how the “plunder” of public funds had hurt ordinary Filipinos, especially those most vulnerable to flooding.
The scandal has not gone unnoticed by civil society. On September 5, 2025, more than 150 former cabinet members, Catholic church leaders, retired generals, business executives, and anti-corruption watchdogs issued a joint statement expressing outrage over what they called the “multi-billion-peso flood control scandal that has harmed and killed our fellow Filipinos in a climate crisis that brings our country even deadlier storms.” Roman Catholic bishops have called for wide-ranging criminal prosecutions and the return of stolen wealth, urging young Filipinos to use social media to “expose injustice.” Small but spirited protests have erupted, mostly led by activists, as the public demands accountability.
House Speaker Martin Romualdez, who was indirectly accused by the Discayas of benefiting from large-scale bribes received by his representatives, has pushed back hard. He labeled the allegations “lies and malicious name-dropping meant to smear his integrity and undermine Congress,” and stated, “If anyone invoked my name, they did so without my knowledge and without my consent. I will not allow falsehoods to tarnish my integrity or the institution I lead.”
The stakes of the scandal are not merely political—they are deeply personal for millions of Filipinos. The country is battered by about 20 typhoons and storms every year. In July 2025 alone, back-to-back typhoons and monsoon rains triggered massive floods that affected millions, displaced over 300,000 people, and left at least 26 dead—most of them poor villagers. The government has spent an estimated 545 billion pesos (about $9.6 billion) on thousands of flood-mitigation projects over the past three years. Yet, with many projects now under review for being substandard or even non-existent, the public is left to wonder: where did all that money go?
Defense Secretary Gilberto Teodoro, who leads the country’s disaster-response agency, has backed the ongoing investigations. Both chambers of Congress, as well as the executive branch, are conducting parallel probes. The mood in the country is one of anger and, perhaps, weary resignation. After all, corruption scandals are hardly new in the Philippines—but the sheer scale and the direct impact on disaster resilience have struck a particularly raw nerve.
As the investigations press forward, the coming weeks will test the resolve of both the government and the public. With the rainy season far from over, and the memory of recent floods still fresh, the demand for transparency, justice, and reform has rarely felt more urgent. For now, the nation watches, waits, and hopes that this time, accountability will not be washed away.
