So much stuff to process, so little time before the next explosive detail erupts.

Filipinos are called upon to make correct sense of the corruption scandal now approaching crisis proportions. That means educating themselves in how the plunder of taxpayer money was pulled off in flood control and other infra projects, and by whom, and slogging through the deepening marsh of information to weave pertinent points into a framework through which they can channel just outrage and demand just punishment for the crime. 

But there are so many details to give them pause, so many contexts to examine.

For example: Had, early on, Sen. Rodante Marcoleta made full disclosure of his wife’s role in insurance companies involved in transactions with certain construction firms owned by supercontractors Curlee and Sarah Discaya, he would have averted the public suspicion now marking his work in the inquiry into the corruption scandal.

It is no small matter. That Edna Marcoleta sits on the boards of the insurance companies identified by Bilyonaryo News Channel as having issued bonds for Discaya projects is a vital piece of information inexplicably withheld. Not surprising then that some people are feeling they’ve been had. With the scandal swiftly unraveling, the imperative is that everyone comes to the table with clean hands, or the equivalent.

This is on top of lawyer Petchie Rose Espera’s denial that she notarized the affidavit of Marcoleta’s surprise witness, the ex-Marine Orly Guteza. It complicates Guteza’s claim to the Senate blue ribbon committee (made under oath) of having delivered kickbacks in staggering amounts to then Ako Bicol Rep. Zaldy Co and then Speaker Martin Romualdez (forcefully denied by both men). And it raises questions on the motives of concerned parties, such as Mike Defensor, who introduced Marcoleta to Guteza. Does Defensor’s  background bear on the matter? (Those with long memories will recall the ex-Spice Boy’s many interesting incarnations in the political realm, such as pointman for then President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo in, among others, dealing with NBN-ZTE whistleblower Jun Lozada, or as congressman who was among the 70 who voted against the renewal of the ABS-CBN franchise. Etc.)

Filipinos have to keep steady footing on shaky terrain. Whether in formal inquiries or thoughtful analyses in print or online, the corruption scandal continues to expose the many links and connections in the system, along with the loopholes and trapdoors in the government bureaucracy, that made the shocking plunder a walk in the park for the perps.

But the facts are muddled by certain characters, such as ex-deputy district engineer Brice Hernandez and his de campanilla lawyer Raymond Fortun. At one point, Hernandez was reported as less than forthcoming in submitting evidence to Senate President Pro Tempore Panfilo Lacson, who chairs the blue ribbon committee. Then Fortun appeared to engage in a bit of striptease in telling reporters that some more senators were still to be named by his client. His client subsequently denied this tidbit under questioning at the blue ribbon inquiry, and said there were no more senators beyond the ones he had previously named, only congresspersons. 

Why is this behavior countenanced? 

The Independent Commission for Infrastructure (ICI) has recommended to the Office of the Ombudsman initial charges against the resigned lawmaker Co and 17 others. That’s one tiny step toward the goal of exacting accountability. But there’s a significant change in the ICI, as occasioned by Baguio City Mayor Benjamin Magalong’s resignation as special adviser and investigator and his replacement by former Philippine National Police chief Rodolfo Azurin Jr. What went down, exactly? It becomes difficult to focus on the ICI’s work absent a definitive explanation for Magalong’s walkout. (The rumors flying online are intriguing.) The ICI, and the President who created it by executive order, cannot afford to squander the opportunity to make good, or to lose the people’s hope. 

There’s distraction enough in the now-frontal conflict between former Senate president Chiz Escudero and former House speaker Romualdez, who lost their leadership posts within days of one another, attesting to how the demand for accountability has been swiftly scaled up. Filipinos must be able to see beyond the words they pitch at each other. 

Escudero is somewhat hampered by baggage in the form of his fashionable spouse. Not that a contractor’s multimillion-peso contribution to his election campaign and his alleged involvement in questionable deals in infra projects are not damning. As for Romualdez, the allegation of kickbacks made by Guteza still stands and requires disproving. And his enemies are powerful. Even Vice President Sara Duterte—the budget of whose office was quickly approved by the Senate committee on finance, and temporarily relieved of an impeachment trial on charges of high crimes including the alleged misuse of confidential funds—contributed in a presser the other day what she said she has heard about his supposed hi-jinks, and threw in his purported involvement in illegal gambling.

“Oh, what a tangled web we weave/ when first we practice to deceive…” But how stupid to recite poetry in the face of the continuing impoverishment of Filipinos through high thievery. 

The ex-district engineers testifying at the blue ribbon inquiry have said mouthfuls about their participation in the plunder and the resultant perverse excesses in their lifestyles. Henry Alcantara’s disclosures implicating certain lawmakers and his superior, ex-public works undersecretary Roberto Bernardo, after a general denial of his underlings’ statements, suggest his acceptance of the inevitable. The luxury vehicles that Hernandez surrendered represent his avid embrace of wrongdoing. Those who raised him must be ashamed, unless that shame is eclipsed by regret at their interrupted enjoyment of the wages of sin. Bernardo’s own expression of remorse is par for the course among those caught in flagrante; his narrative and the dramatis personae have yet to be fleshed out.

That is, fleshed out for the information of Filipinos who need to be fully apprised of the plunder of public funds by privileged men and women and their state enablers, whether in the Duterte or Marcos administrations and other tenures: Filipinos who may ultimately be stirred to look back at the festering issue of the ill-gotten wealth amassed by the dictatorship.

What a breeze breaking the law has become. “Wala na pong takot na lumabag sa batas,” former Senate president Franklin Drilon lamented to ANC’s Karmina Constantino. Drilon then proceeded to challenge the Anti-Money Laundering Council to disclose the amounts in the bank accounts it has frozen—to demonstrate the abject failure of agencies tasked to prevent the laundering of funds gained from corruption, he said. 

Yes, hit the public with the torrid amounts. The demand for facts should be encompassing. The better for Filipinos to grasp the breadth and depth of the crime—and perhaps finally come to grips with what has to be done.