In his last State of the Nation Address, President Marcos did something many leaders before him hesitated to do. He publicly exposed the festering rot behind anomalous infrastructure spending, particularly flood control projects. It was a bold declaration—one that raised hopes for real accountability in a country long scarred by corruption. But in the months since that speech, those hopes appear to be steadily chipping away.

The resignations of Baguio City Mayor Benjamin Magalong and Senator Panfilo Lacson—arguably two of the country’s most credible and battle-hardened public servants—from the investigation into the scandal is a blow too loud to ignore. These are not men easily shaken. However, both cited mistrust, unseen hands, and disturbing maneuverings that signaled the investigation was being compromised from within. Their disengagement is a warning flare that must be taken seriously.

The message is clear. If even the most principled are forced to walk away, what future is left for truth and justice in this case?

The investigation, at its core, is about what kind of nation we are becoming—one where public money, meant to protect lives from devastating floods, is diverted into the pockets of the powerful. This is betrayal on a national scale.

President Marcos must act quickly to keep the battle against corruption the way he wanted it to be—relentless and unforgiving.

He has already taken the first step by exposing the scandal—but this is not enough. He must now fully commit to cleansing the system, even if that means going against the very interests that may have helped bring him to power. He must demand airtight cases, ensure witnesses are protected, and guarantee that those who seek the truth are shielded, not sidelined.

The longer this drags on, the more space it gives for political fixers, syndicates, and spin doctors to cloud the truth, intimidate whistleblowers, bury the trail, and muddle the issue. The President must keep the Independent Commission on Infrastructure (ICI) on its toes, free from political influence, and given the full weight of his office. He must ensure that agencies like the Ombudsman and the Commission on Audit are empowered, not undermined, in their mandates. Justice, in this case, must be fast, firm, and final.

This is not the President's fight alone.

The private sector must speak up. For too long, corruption has been normalized by some quarters as “cost of doing business.” It is time to end this narrative.

And how about the Filipino people? We cannot turn a blind eye on these corrupt practices.

Our taxes funded these ghost projects. And our communities continue to get submerged every time it rains because of faulty or nonexistent infrastructure.

We are at a crossroads. If we allow this investigation to be swept away by a flood of manipulations by vested interests, we send a loud, chilling message: that those who dare to expose these anomalous activities will be made to suffer, and those who steal from the public will walk free.

But if we choose to stand firm—if the President reclaims this cause as his own, if institutions refuse to bow, if citizens refuse to be pacified—then this scandal, painful as it is, can become a turning point.

We have lost Magalong. We have lost Lacson. But we have not yet lost our chance to win.

The truth is still within reach.

Now is the time to grasp it—or forever wonder what could have been.