Sara’s Sun, Sea, and Silence: How to Avoid Budget Talks Like a Surfer

By Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo — September 24, 2024

IT TURNS out that fiscal responsibility and tropical getaways go hand in hand—at least for Vice President Sara Duterte, who apparently believes the best place to debate the nation’s billion-peso budget is not in a stuffy office, but on a serene beach in Calaguas. After all, who doesn’t make life-altering financial decisions while reclining under a palm tree with a chilled coconut in hand?

While lawmakers convened in the hallowed halls of the House of Representatives, awaiting her valiant defense of the 2025 Office of the Vice President (OVP) budget, Sara was—according to a not-at-all-fictional police report—busy perfecting her tan. A beach is, after all, a natural setting for grappling with serious governance issues like, “How do we account for the misuse of P73 million in confidential funds?” Spoiler: You don’t. You just deny it like you deny beach trips.

Fake News? Or the Great Seaside Cover-Up?

The OVP’s official line was one of righteous indignation. No, Sara wasn’t at the beach. That’s “fake news,” a deceit spread by the pesky media who had nothing better to do than track her whereabouts like she’s some kind of elected official with public accountability. The OVP didn’t hesitate to channel their inner Marie Antoinette: “Let them clickbait!”

But just as Sara was preparing her defenses (read: slathering on SPF 50), the police in Camarines Norte released a report confirming her location. Suddenly, the “fake news” narrative was as washed up as a jellyfish on the shore. Oops.

The House of Representatives: A Surreal Waiting Game

Meanwhile, in the parallel universe of people actually doing their jobs, the House of Representatives was stuck in a purgatory of waiting. For 17 long hours, lawmakers twiddled their thumbs, played Sudoku, and occasionally asked each other, “Has anyone seen the Vice President?” Alas, she was nowhere to be found. Instead, three OVP officials showed up without any actual authority to speak. It was like sending three lifeguards to a drowning budget—utterly useless.

Rep. Paolo Ortega and Rep. Jay Khonghun led the chorus of bewilderment, questioning how anyone could trust a leader who can’t even fess up to a beach trip. “If she can’t be honest about where she spent her weekend,” they mused, “how can she handle something as minor as a billion-peso budget?” An excellent question that Sara, undoubtedly, pondered deeply while working on her tan lines.

The Legal Precedent for Beach-Based Governance

Let’s not be too hasty in our judgment. Some might argue that there’s legal precedent for all of this. After all, Philippine public officials are governed by Republic Act No. 6713, which lays out ethical standards for government employees. You know, that trivial bit about “public officials shall discharge their duties with utmost responsibility, integrity, and competence.” Surely, sipping mojitos while ghosting the House plenary falls under “competence”?

But alas, RA 6713 also demands that officials “uphold public interest over personal interest.” This, apparently, means not lounging on a beach when you’re supposed to defend your agency’s budget. Who knew?

And let’s not forget the Supreme Court precedent in Funa vs. Villar (2012), which stressed that public accountability is non-negotiable. The only thing Sara seems to have negotiated is a great beach-side cabana.

The Debate: To Tan or Not to Tan?

House members were predictably split on the pressing matter of Sara’s beach escapade. On one hand, you had Rep. France Castro (ACT Teachers), who remarked that everyone deserves a little personal time—but maybe, just maybe, don’t schedule your beach trip when your office’s P733 million budget is on the line? After all, some things, like accountability, require showing up.

On the other hand, there’s always the eternal defense of “I work hard, I deserve a break.” It’s unclear whether this defense holds up when 17 hours of government work are wasted and the House of Representatives is left sunburned by disappointment.

The Battle of Beach vs. Budget: Who Has the Upper Hand?

If you’re wondering who comes out on top in this saga, the answer is clear: the beach. The House, with all its deliberative powers, was no match for the calming waves of Calaguas. In the great clash between governance and a tropical getaway, governance was left high and dry.

Sara’s Path Forward: More SPF or More COA?

Sara now faces a crossroads. Should she double down and deny everything, as though there’s a magical force field around Calaguas that shields vice presidents from accountability? Or perhaps, as some have suggested, she should try something novel: showing up to the House and actually doing her job. Wild idea, right?

Alternatively, she could resign from the OVP altogether, as she already did from DepEd. This would certainly free up more time for beach trips—where no pesky COA reports or budget hearings could disturb her peace. Maybe she could even advocate for a new department: the Department of Rest and Relaxation (DepRR). With all the funds from her office’s confidential budget, it could be the most well-funded department in the country!

Satiric Tips

For Sara: Consider livestreaming the next budget defense from Calaguas. It’s 2024—virtual meetings are all the rage!
For the House of Representatives: Maybe install a sandpit in the session hall? That way, Sara might be tempted to show up once in a while. If not, it’ll at least make the 17-hour wait more enjoyable.
For the Filipino People: Buy a beach towel. It seems like governance is best done from the shores these days. Maybe if we all head to Calaguas, we’ll finally get our answers.

In the end, as Sara rides the waves in Calaguas, the rest of us are left drowning in the wake of this political farce—trying to keep afloat while our leaders treat governance like a casual day at the beach.