Every so often, headlines jolt us into the harsh reality that corruption in government remains wide-spread. Reports of ghost projects, anomalous contracts, and staggering kickbacks — most recently in flood-control infrastructure — remind us that billions of pesos intended to save communities from dis-aster are instead siphoned into private pockets. The flooding worsens, lives are disrupted, and trust in government erodes even further.

The brazenness of these schemes is no longer shocking, which is perhaps the saddest part. Corruption has become so normalized that the public merely shrugs, half expecting every big project to be taint-ed. It is as though dishonesty has seeped into the country’s bloodstream, passed down from one gen-eration to the next.

This leads to an uncomfortable question: do we need to teach honesty as a formal lesson in schools? Isn’t honesty supposed to be part of a child’s upbringing, nurtured at home and reinforced by society’s values? Shouldn’t the distinction between right and wrong — that corruption is theft, that kickbacks are betrayal — be as clear as day?

And yet, when corruption is so deeply entrenched, perhaps a deliberate effort is needed to rebuild the moral foundations. Just as we teach mathematics, science, and language, why not teach ethics as a practical subject? Not in lofty, abstract terms, but in ways children can understand: that taking what does not belong to you is wrong, that cheating for personal gain harms others, that public money is for public service.

Imagine a classroom where students role-play situations involving honesty and corruption. Where they are asked: what would you do if you saw your classmate cheating? Or if you were given change greater than what you paid? What if you were entrusted with funds for a group project? From these small, relatable lessons, children may grow to see that corruption is not just about billions of pesos in government coffers, but about everyday choices of integrity.

The children’s behavior will also begin to affect the adults around them. When a child comments that a parent had received more change than he should, that should put a hint of shame not to return it. Or in a traffic altercation, when the adult driver twists the facts of his action leading to an accident, wouldn’t a child’s remark to say otherwise put some sense of honesty into adults in the situation?

Of course, a lesson in school will not erase corruption overnight. But it may plant the seed for a gener-ation that demands accountability, not one that tolerates dishonesty as “part of the system.” If young Filipinos are taught that corruption is a betrayal of trust, perhaps they will grow up less willing to partic-ipate in or accept it.

Meanwhile, adults in the home should take the little lessons on honesty seriously. The most likely ob-stacle to this is the so-called white lie, the one that children are asked to say to avoid an uninvited guest or caller. “Tell her I’m not here,” is a white lie often said.

A lie is dishonesty, no matter if it’s made to cover a minor situation that will not cause injury or death to others, unlike ghost flood control projects. Learning honesty starts early; keeping honesty as a way of life will start to show in the child sooner than you think.

As an aside, I’ve noticed how people are charmed by honesty stores that they discover in the country-side. Photos of those are posted on social media like a rare find in a road trip. People are surprised that store owners trust strangers to be honest – get goods, usually fruits and vegetables produced by the owner – and pay the exact amount indicated in the signs.

Aside from honesty, what should entice customers to leave payment for what they got are the CCTV cameras that are installed somewhere – recording a “cute” dishonest act to post in social media!

In New Zealand, there are many honesty stores along the roads. The locals seem to be used to this. Customers bring their own bags, weigh the fruits or veggies, and leave the payment in a box. For me, coming from an overpopulated metro where stores do not only have cameras and security guards but also “secret” guards in civilian clothes watching the aisles, seeing an honesty store where people shopped like normal was a surprise. It’s a memory that came back when I was thinking of how much dishonesty now surrounds us – and shows when the floods come!

Ultimately, honesty should not be a subject that needs teaching. It should be part of who we are as a people. But given the evidences of betrayal in public office, perhaps now is the time to teach — again and again — that honesty matters, corruption destroys, and the future belongs to those who choose integrity. ([email protected])