Bayanihan Reloaded: How a Firing Squad Could Unite Filipinos Against Corruption

Because nothing says teamwork like collectively aiming at the problem—literally.

By Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo — January 23, 2025

Tired of delays in traffic, court rulings, and, apparently, karma? Enter Zamboanga Representative Khymer Olaso’s House Bill 11211, which promises to do what no Filipino system has ever done before: deliver swift justice. Under the ‘Death Penalty for Corruption Act,’ officials who’ve pocketed P50 million or more can skip jail and go straight to a firing squad—finally, an express lane that works.

Olaso, perhaps inspired by China’s no-nonsense approach to corruption or a binge-watch of mafia movies, argues this is the ultimate deterrent. After all, what better way to handle plunder than with plundering lives? Forget due process or systemic reform—just skip straight to the firing line. Given the snail’s pace of our judicial system, some might argue it’s the first time Filipino governance has been too efficient.

But let’s examine this through the uniquely absurd lens of Filipino culture:

“Corruption Meets Filipino Time”

The bill’s safeguards promise that only officials whose guilt has been affirmed by the Supreme Court—after exhausting all legal remedies—will face execution. But considering how long Philippine cases drag on, some of these convicts might die of natural causes before the firing squad even gets to them. Imagine a scenario where a former official, convicted in 2025, is finally scheduled for execution in 2060, only to receive a last-minute motion for reconsideration from their grandchildren.

“Execution Tourism: Bayanihan Meets Black Humor”

If passed, the Philippines could unwittingly become a global hub for “execution tourism.” Corrupt officials from all over the world might flock to Manila for a trial-by-firing squad, enticed by our unique combination of brutal justice and world-renowned hospitality. A Boodle Fight could even precede the execution—a final communal meal with the condemned, complete with pancit for longevity (ironic, we know).

“American Politicians Take Notes”

Across the Pacific, the U.S. watches enviously. Imagine senators joking, “If only we had this in Washington, DC—half of Congress would be gone!” Of course, this ignores the real cultural takeaway: Filipinos would still find a way to make the execution a fiesta. Expect a TikTok dance challenge to go viral—“Firing Squad Shuffle,” anyone?

“The Irony of Hypocrisy”

Here’s the twist: what happens if a politician who pushed for this law gets caught with their hands in the cookie jar? Will the author of House Bill 11211 face their own firing squad? Or will they miraculously become proponents of rehabilitation and second chances? Cynics might bet their retirement on the latter.

“Alternatives: Reform, Not Rhetoric”

Here’s a thought: instead of skipping straight to firing squads, why not focus on actual governance reforms? Digital transparency, streamlined auditing systems, and public accountability could deliver better results without requiring live ammunition. But then again, that wouldn’t provide the same dramatic optics, would it?

Conclusion: A Nation’s Misplaced Priorities

The proposed bill shines a glaring spotlight on the absurdity of prioritizing spectacle over substance. Corruption is undoubtedly a cancer on Philippine society, but treating it with a loaded rifle instead of preventive medicine misses the point. If anything, House Bill 11211 is less a solution and more an ironic punchline in the slow-moving comedy of Philippine governance.

As we ponder whether firing squads will scare corruption straight, remember: justice in the Philippines doesn’t just tick—it takes siestas. So, bring snacks; this debate might outlast your lifetime savings, or worse, another Senate inquiry.