Tiangco and the Transparent Illusion: Now You See the Budget, Now You Don’t

A magician’s guide to fiscal indignation—after leaving the magic circle.

By Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo — August 7, 2025

In a Congress where transparency goes to die, Toby Tiangco has suddenly discovered the virtues of sunlight — conveniently timed to his divorce from Speaker Romualdez’s inner circle.

It’s the sort of transformation that makes one wonder if Tiangco tripped over a flood control audit on his way to a political rebrand. Now the newly independent lawmaker is banging on the opaque gates of the House’s so-called “small committee,” demanding it release the 2025 budget amendments — those backroom doodles where billions go missing like socks in a dryer.

To which the House leadership essentially replied: “What amendments?”

Let’s pause to appreciate the absurdity. In the world’s most disaster-prone archipelago, where ₱375 billion has been pumped into flood control since 2022, entire cities still drown every monsoon like clockwork. But don’t worry—some DPWH contractor’s yacht made it safely to Misibis Bay.

Meanwhile, the small committee — that parliamentary broom closet where budget miracles are conjured — continues to operate like a Vatican conclave, only with less smoke and more pork. No minutes, no livestream, no fingerprints. Just insertions. The kind you won’t find in any civics textbook.

Credibility Autopsy: Bring Out the Usual Suspects

Toby Tiangco: Reformer—But Make It Selective

Tiangco now wields the sword of transparency, but this is the same man whose dredging and floodwall projects in Navotas collapsed during Typhoon Ulysses. His name also flickered in the Pandora Papers, attached to a BVI company allegedly “dormant,” which is political-speak for “untraceable.”

So when he rails against phantom line items and pork barrel resurrection, we nod approvingly—then quietly check his SALN and Navotas flood-control budget.

Zaldy Co: The ₱8.7 Billion Man

Then there’s Zaldy Co, who appears to treat the national budget like a loyalty rewards card. Under his watch as appropriations chair, ₱8.7 billion in insertions allegedly made their way to Bicol for multipurpose buildings, often post-bicam. Some were strategically located near his family’s Sunwest-linked resorts. Was that “multipurpose” or just “multi-personal”?

One of Co’s properties, Misibis Bay, got ₱95 million in DPWH access-road funds. Public benefit? Sure—if you count private beach weddings and exclusive golf carts.

Speaker Romualdez: Public Servant, Private Fortune

Speaker Martin Romualdez has seen his net worth more than double during his time in public office, rising from ₱55 million in 2019 to ₱125 million in 2023. His camp attributes the increase to prudent investments and legitimate business ventures. Supporters point to his high-profile responsibilities, vast network, and political acumen as factors that may attract lucrative private-sector opportunities even while in office.

Still, in a country where the line between public service and private gain is often scrutinized, such wealth accumulation naturally raises questions about how officials navigate ethical boundaries while serving in powerful roles.

Impact with Teeth (and Sarcasm)

Let’s measure the return on investment of the House’s fiscal artistry:

₱375 billion in flood-control spending =
- Zero control, all flood
- New DPWH “amphibious roads” in Metro Manila
- Contractors buying yachts faster than COA can say “red flag”

It’s a masterclass in hydraulic accounting: money flows in, accountability washes out.

In Tondo, a mother of three bails water from her sala with a tabo while her barangay captain points to a ghost project on a laminated map. Meanwhile, in Albay, a luxury speedboat bearing Sunwest’s logo skims across the crystal waters—funded, in part, by “flood mitigation allocations.”

Somehow, every typhoon victim gets drenched, and every politician walks away dry.

Recommendations (Dripping with Irony)

Abolish the Small Committee? Bold. But why stop there? Install live CCTV in the House lounge, preferably with Twitch streamers narrating real-time pork insertions. Call it Pork Barrel Live!
Mandatory Budget Karaoke: Every amendment must be sung in plenary, preferably to the tune of “Pusong Bato,” to ensure memorability—and shame.
For Zaldy Co’s Next Act: A Sunshine Tour of Bicol’s budget-funded beaches, with brochures showing every road paved by taxpayer money… leading to his own resort.
Romualdez Wealth Review: Why not invite the public to help verify lawmakers’ asset declarations—starting with Speaker Romualdez, whose rise in net worth has drawn both praise for financial acumen and calls for transparency. Perhaps we award a symbolic prize to the first citizen who spots a previously unreported asset, say, in Tagaytay—just for fun (and good governance).
Tiangco’s Transparency Test: Before preaching openness, publish Navotas’s floodwall procurement records. Let’s see if his moral high ground is built on concrete—or mud.

Closing Killshot

The Philippines deserves a budget that isn’t a shell game. But until voters treat pork like a crime rather than a perk, until lawmakers stop hiding amendments in backroom broom closets, and until contractors stop cashing checks from ghost infrastructure, the only thing “small” about the committee will be the chances of actual reform.

And that, dear taxpayers, is the joke: Your money disappears faster than your hopes after every election.

Because in the Philippines, the flood never drowns the guilty—only the honest.

Key Citations

I am Louis “Barok” C. Biraogo, the unlicensed therapist to government delusions and chief satirist of Kweba ni Barok. I read SALNs for fun while downing a few rounds of tuba, and have been consistently filing FOI requests after surviving three super typhoons.