On Sunday, November 30, 2025, the Philippines witnessed a powerful outpouring of public anger as thousands of demonstrators took to the streets across the country, demanding justice and accountability in a sprawling corruption scandal tied to multi-billion-dollar flood control projects. The protests, which drew in Roman Catholic clergy, left-wing activists, and ordinary citizens alike, underscored the depth of frustration with systemic graft that has plagued the nation for decades.
According to TEMPO.CO, one of the largest rallies unfolded in the capital Manila, where left-wing groups and their supporters gathered to call for the immediate resignation and prosecution of all government officials implicated in the scandal. The demonstrators, many dressed in white as a symbol of their demand for transparency, carried crocodile-shaped signs—a biting reference to the entrenched corruption they say is devouring the country’s resources.
Roman Catholic churches played a pivotal role in mobilizing communities for the day’s events, leading anti-corruption marches in their districts. The main rally took place at the iconic pro-democracy "people power" monument along EDSA highway, a site deeply woven into the Philippines’ history of popular uprisings. In a show of force and caution, authorities deployed a staggering 17,000 police officers in Manila alone to maintain order, with the Malacanang presidential palace complex placed under tight security lockdown. Key access roads and bridges were blocked by anti-riot police, trucks, and barbed wire, as reported by Business Standard.
Police estimated that about 5,000 protesters joined the demonstrations in Manila before noon. The crowd’s message was unambiguous: they demanded the swift imprisonment of legislators, government officials, and construction company executives accused of orchestrating and profiting from defective, substandard, or even non-existent flood control projects. "There are people who died because of the corruption that is happening," said 20-year-old drag performer Jessie Wanaluvmi J to AFP, capturing the emotional core of the movement.
The roots of the current outrage stretch back to July, when President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. publicly raised alarms over mounting anomalies in the country’s flood control projects during his state of the nation address before Congress. Since then, at least seven public works officers have been jailed for illegal use of public funds and other graft charges related to a single project anomaly. The government’s response has escalated in recent days: just before the protests, eight members of the Department of Public Works and Highways were arrested, with officials promising that "big fish are coming soon," according to TEMPO.CO.
President Marcos Jr. has been scrambling to quell the public’s fury. The scandal has been blamed for leaving the archipelago, already prone to deadly flooding and extreme weather, even more vulnerable due to shoddy or absent infrastructure. Marcos has pledged that many of at least 37 powerful senators, members of Congress, and wealthy construction executives implicated in the scandal would be in jail by Christmas. "About 12 billion pesos (USD 206 million) worth of assets of suspects in flood control anomalies have been frozen by authorities," Marcos told the public, as reported by Business Standard.
Among those under scrutiny is Sunwest Corp., a construction firm allegedly involved in the fraudulent projects. Executives from the company are reportedly being sought by authorities. In a dramatic turn, Henry Alcantara, a former government engineer who admitted his involvement under oath during Senate inquiry hearings, returned 110 million pesos (about USD 1.9 million) in kickbacks on Friday, November 28, 2025. Justice officials stated that Alcantara promised to return more in the coming weeks.
The scale of the scandal is staggering. Protesters accuse not just government officials but also members of Congress and construction company owners of siphoning off vast sums from flood control budgets—funds that, they allege, have financed fleets of private jets, luxury cars, mansions, and extravagant lifestyles. One protester in Manila wore a shirt emblazoned with the blunt message: "No mercy for the greedy." The call for restitution was clear: demonstrators insisted that all stolen government funds be returned to the public coffers.
The Philippines has a long and tumultuous history with corruption scandals, and the current crisis has stirred memories of past upheavals. In the last 39 years, two presidents have been toppled, at least in part, due to allegations of plunder. The specter of political instability loomed over the protests, with isolated voices calling for the military to withdraw support from the Marcos administration. However, the Armed Forces of the Philippines firmly rejected such calls. In a statement signed by at least 88 mostly retired generals, including three former military chiefs of staff, the military declared, "The unified voice of our retired and active leaders reaffirms that the Armed Forces of the Philippines remains a pillar of stability and a steadfast guardian of democracy." The statement, welcomed by the current military leadership, was seen as a crucial reassurance of democratic order amid the unrest.
Despite the government’s promises and the recent wave of arrests, many Filipinos remain skeptical. Protesters on November 30 insisted that implicated senators and House members be jailed sooner rather than later and that all those responsible face prosecution without delay. The sense of urgency was palpable, with demonstrators expressing frustration over the slow pace of justice and the perceived impunity of the powerful. The message was echoed in the words of a protester quoted by Business Standard: "We demand that members of Congress, officials, and construction company owners behind thousands of anomalous flood control projects in recent years be imprisoned and ordered to return the government funds they stole."
The protests also highlighted the role of civil society in holding leaders to account. Roman Catholic churches, which have long wielded significant moral influence in the Philippines, were at the forefront of the movement. Their involvement lent the demonstrations a sense of unity and gravitas, drawing in diverse segments of society and amplifying the call for reform.
As the day’s rallies wound down, the question on everyone’s mind was whether the government would follow through on its promises—or whether the cycle of scandal and impunity would continue. For now, the streets of Manila and cities across the Philippines have sent a clear message: the public is watching, and it will not be silent in the face of corruption that threatens lives, livelihoods, and the nation’s fragile democracy.