Resign, Senator Escudero—Your 1,700% Return on Investment Speaks Louder Than Your Denials

By Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo — August 14, 2025

SENATE President Francis Escudero’s cries of “demolition job” echo like a pickpocket screaming “thief!” while his pockets bulge with stolen cash. This is the sound of a politician caught in the seamless marriage of legalized bribery and systemic graft—where ₱30 million in campaign donations transforms into ₱5.4 billion in flood control contracts faster than you can say “coincidence.”

Welcome to the Philippines’ newest case study in institutional rot, where the man who controls the Senate’s gavel now wields it like a shield against accountability. Escudero has accused political forces in the House of Representatives of orchestrating a “demolition job” against him over the revelation that his top campaign donor had secured billions of pesos in government flood control projects. The audacity is breathtaking—and instructive.

The Hypocrisy Hall of Fame

Let’s dissect Escudero’s contortionist defense with the precision it deserves. He admits Centerways Construction donated ₱30 million but claims no influence—yet 52% of their contracts flowed to his Sorsogon. What a staggering coincidence! Perhaps Centerways just really believes in Sorsogon’s unique vulnerability to floods—and Escudero’s unique vulnerability to large donations.

Then there’s his mathematical sleight of hand: the “less than 1% of total contracts” defense. By that logic, a bank robber should walk free if they only stole 1% of the vault’s cash. The percentage is irrelevant when the absolute numbers scream corruption: ₱5.4 billion in a country where teachers earn ₱25,000 a month.

But here’s where the hypocrisy reaches Olympic levels. Escudero archived Duterte’s impeachment case citing the Supreme Court, yet now cries foul when scrutinized. Constitutional principle for thee, but not for me. When the House impeached, it was “overreach.” When the Senate buried it, it was “due process.” Escudero’s moral compass only points toward self-interest.

Anatomy of a Survival Instinct

This isn’t about principle—it’s about Escudero clinging to power like a drowning man to driftwood. He lamented the “malicious” timing in releasing the report, as President Marcos bared the initial findings of the government audit on flood control. How brave of Escudero to endure such unfair attacks—after all, who could question a senator whose top donor just happened to win billions in projects? Surely this is all just a series of unfortunate events, like a Dickens novel written by a DPWH contractor.

Notice his sudden bill to ban officials’ families from government contracts—a “please stop investigating me” Hail Mary if I’ve ever seen one. It’s the legislative equivalent of a midnight confession, desperately trying to inoculate himself against the obvious follow-up questions about his own ethical lapses.

“Asked who is particularly behind the demolition job, Escudero simply said, ‘those who are in favor of the impeachment.’ Maybe those who were hurt by my speech and everything I did in the previous days.”

The victim complex is complete: poor Chiz, persecuted for doing his constitutional duty by following the Supreme Court. Except constitutional duty doesn’t include six months of convenient delays before finally archiving the case.

The House vs. Senate Theater

“While he did not name any lawmaker from the lower chamber, he repeatedly stated that it certainly came from the House. ‘Yes, the demolition job came from the House. Wasn’t there a video of me released from the House and innuendos and insinuations were made?’”

How convenient that Escudero can’t name names—because naming names requires evidence, and evidence is apparently in short supply in his defense arsenal. Instead, we get vague gestures toward House conspiracy theories while the actual facts remain stubbornly simple: his friend donated millions, then won billions in government contracts. No video necessary to connect those dots.

This is the same man who maintained that “it was not the Senate that killed Duterte’s impeachment, but the high court”—yet somehow when he faces scrutiny, it’s not the evidence speaking but a House conspiracy. The pattern is clear: when Escudero acts, it’s constitutional duty; when he’s questioned, it’s political persecution.

Systemic Corruption as Performance Art

What we’re witnessing isn’t just one senator’s ethical crisis—it’s a masterclass in how legalized graft operates in the Philippines. The government will enforce a stricter vetting process for contractors handling flood control projects, but the damage is done. Centerways didn’t donate—they prepaid. The ₱30 million was an investment with a 1,700% return rate that would make Warren Buffett weep with envy.

This is how the system works: donations flow to politicians, contracts flow to donors, and when the obvious connection gets exposed, the politicians cry “demolition job.” It’s a perfectly choreographed dance where the only losers are the Filipino people—drowning in floods and drowning in lies.

The Human Cost of Escudero’s “Coincidences”

Every peso siphoned into Escudero’s donor’s pockets is a peso not spent on actual flood victims. As officials lay bare the mechanics of corruption in flood control and other public works, you’re left asking why the rot has been allowed to fester for decades. Well, now we know: it persists because when caught, officials simply blame their critics for a “demolition job.”

This isn’t politics—it’s larceny dressed in a barong. Escudero’s “demolition job” whine is the sound of a man realizing his immunity from consequences might finally expire.

What Needs to Happen

For Escudero: Resign. Or at least stop insulting our intelligence with claims that a ₱30 million donation and ₱5.4 billion in contracts to the same person is mere coincidence.

For Investigators: Follow the money—from Centerways’ bids to Escudero’s campaign coffers, then trace every contract awarded during his political ascendancy.

For Voters: Stop electing leaders who treat public office as a franchise operation for their donors. The flood victims of the Philippines deserve better than senators who profit from their misery.

The Final Indictment

Escudero wants us to pity him as a victim of political persecution. But the only victims here are the Filipino people—drowning in floods, and drowning in his lies. His “demolition job” claims are like a pyromanist blaming the fire department for the blaze—while still holding the matches.

The man who once sought to be president now stands exposed as exactly what’s wrong with Philippine politics: a system where campaign contributions become government contracts, where constitutional duty becomes political convenience, and where accountability becomes a “demolition job.”

History will remember Francis Escudero not for his constitutional leadership, but for his constitutional failure—the failure to understand that public trust, once broken by the stench of corruption, cannot be rebuilt with press conferences and victim narratives.

The demolition job isn’t being done to Senator Escudero. It’s being done by him—to the very institutions he swore to protect.