Zaldy Co’s Billion-Peso Plunder: A Flood of Lies Exposed

Jets, Lies, and Zamboanga Alibis: Co’s Scandalous Plunge into Infamy

By Louis ‘Barok‘ C. Biraogo — September 27, 2025

A Congressman’s Crocodile Tears

PICTURE a congressman, cloaked in righteous indignation, penning a tear-stained letter from some overseas medical retreat, swearing he’s never touched a cent of dirty money. Now picture the Anti-Money Laundering Council (AMLC) freezing P4.3 billion in air assets—jets and helicopters that could shame a Bond villain—allegedly tied to his family. This is the sordid saga of Ako Bicol party-list Representative Zaldy Co, a man who claims purity while the Senate, the House of Representatives, and the court of public opinion smell a stench fouler than Manila’s floodwaters.

How does a humble lawmaker, scraping by on a public servant’s salary, end up linked to a personal air force worth billions? Divine intervention? A lucky raffle in Zamboanga City? Or the oldest trick in the Philippine political playbook: plunder dressed as patriotism? Co’s defense—“ZC stands for Zamboanga City, not Zaldy Co”—is a dodge so audacious it deserves its own telenovela. It’s a coincidence more miraculous than a Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) flood control project that actually works. Buckle up, because this drama is about to get wetter than a typhoon-soaked barangay.

Legal Smackdown: The Laws Ready to Sink Co

Before we dive into shredding Co’s denials, let’s anchor this scandal in the ironclad framework of the law. The Zaldy Co flood control controversy isn’t just political mudslinging—it’s a legal quagmire, and the statutes are loaded for bear.

Republic Act 3019 (Anti-Graft and Corrupt Practices Act): Section 3(e) targets officials causing “undue injury” to the government or granting “unwarranted benefits” through bad faith or partiality. Section 3(b) nails those accepting gifts tied to government contracts. If Co’s linked to DPWH kickbacks, he’s staring down this law like a guilty man at a firing squad.
Republic Act 7080 (Plunder Law): This beast kicks in when a public official amasses ill-gotten wealth of P75 million or more through a pattern of corrupt acts. With P4.3 billion in frozen air assets and testimonies of billion-peso cash deliveries, Co’s alleged haul laughs at the P75 million threshold. See Estrada v. Sandiganbayan for how this law bites.
Republic Act 9160 (Anti-Money Laundering Act): The AMLC’s freeze on Co’s assets is a financial guillotine, authorized under Section 10. But the Supreme Court’s ruling in Republic v. Eugenio (G.R. No. 174629, 2008) demands procedural safeguards—notice, hearings, and a clear link to the crime. Slip up, and Co’s lawyers could unravel it.
Constitutional Due Process (Article III, Section 1): Co’s cries of “prejudgment” lean on his right to due process under the 1987 Constitution. He’s not wrong—no one’s guilty until a court says so. But due process isn’t a shield from scrutiny; it’s a promise of a fair fight.
Key Precedent: Estrada v. Sandiganbayan (G.R. No. 148560, 2001): This landmark case cemented the Plunder Law‘s teeth. Former President Joseph Estrada’s conviction for amassing wealth through kickbacks showed prosecutors need only prove a pattern, not every peso. If Co’s tied to even a sliver of the alleged billions, he’s in Estrada’s sinking boat.

These laws are the scaffolding of the case, but they’re only as strong as the evidence—and the government’s ability to avoid its own flood of incompetence.

Shredding the Sham: Co’s Defenses Drowned in Sarcasm

Zaldy Co’s letter to Speaker Faustino “Bojie” Dy III is a masterpiece of political melodrama: part victim card, part legal posturing, all denial. Let’s carve up his claims with the precision of a butcher and the sarcasm of a jaded pundit who’s seen this script before.

Claim 1: “I received no funds from DPWH projects.”

For: Co swears he’s pristine, untouched by the billions allegedly flooding DPWH’s sham projects. No formal charges yet, he notes, and those witnesses? Just disgruntled ex-employees or contractors angling for deals, per his letter in GMA News.

Against: Oh, spare us the saintly act. Witnesses like Henry Alcantara and the Discaya family aren’t just gossiping—they’re detailing cash deliveries to Co’s proxies, backed by bank records and a P4.3 billion AMLC freeze on aircraft and P474.5 million in luxury cars. Did those Gulfstreams sprout wings from divine providence? The AMLC doesn’t lock down billions on a hunch; they’ve got probable cause, and Co’s denial sounds like a man whistling past the graveyard.

Claim 2: “The Bicameral Report and 2025 GAA were a collegial process.”

For: Co insists he couldn’t have single-handedly inserted billions into the 2025 General Appropriations Act (GAA). It’s a team sport, he argues, with plenary votes and bicameral approval, as he stated in GMA News. Blaming him alone is absurd, like pinning a banquet flop on one chef.

Against: Welcome to the Philippine politician’s favorite hideout: the “collegial process” excuse, a bureaucratic swamp where accountability drowns. Nobody’s saying Co acted solo, but witnesses claim he orchestrated insertions, with kickbacks of 30-50% per project. The “team effort” defense is the Nuremberg plea of Congress—“I was just following votes!” If he’s so innocent, why’s his name the star of this scandal’s marquee?

Claim 3: “ZC stands for Zamboanga City, not Zaldy Co.”

For: Co denies any link to ZC Victory Fishing Corporation, claiming “ZC” honors Zamboanga City, not his initials, and he never pressured Department of Agriculture (DA) Secretary Francisco Tiu Laurel for fish import permits, per GMA News. A plausible misunderstanding, he says.

Against: This defense is so brazen it deserves a standing ovation. ZC for Zamboanga City? Sure, and PDAF stood for “Philanthropic Donations for All Filipinos.” Tiu Laurel testified Co demanded permits for 3,000 containers, a classic RA 3019, Section 3(c) violation, even if denied. The “Zamboanga” excuse is flimsier than a DPWH flood barrier in a monsoon. Next, he’ll claim his helicopters were a gift from a grateful fisherman.

Claim 4: “I’m prejudged and fear for my safety.”

For: Co’s got a legal leg to stand on—revoking his travel clearance without a hearing smells like prejudgment, violating due process under Article III, Section 1. Public outrage, with over 200 arrests, fuels his safety fears, as noted in GMA News.

Against: Cry us a flood, Zaldy. The Speaker’s revocation isn’t a conviction; it’s a summons to face the music. Dy’s assurance of safety is as good as it gets, unless Co’s scared of what a fair process might unearth. His “prejudgment” whining sounds less like an innocent man’s plea and more like a politician who sees the walls closing in. If he’s so eager to clear his name, why’s he hiding abroad, penning letters instead of testifying?

Government’s Gambit: Justice or Political Pageantry?

The government’s response to the Zaldy Co scandal is a high-stakes poker game, with moves that could either nail him or fold under scrutiny. Let’s dissect their strategy, with a healthy dose of cynicism for the inevitable grandstanding.

Asset Freeze: The AMLC’s P4.3 billion freeze on Co’s air assets, reported by GMA News, is a financial sledgehammer, preserving evidence of ill-gotten wealth under RA 9160. But the Supreme Court’s Republic v. Eugenio demands procedural precision—notice, hearings, and a clear crime nexus. If the AMLC cut corners, Co’s lawyers could dismantle the freeze faster than a DPWH project in a typhoon.
Travel Clearance Revocation: Speaker Dy’s September 18 order for Co to return by September 29, per GMA News, is a political masterstroke. Stay abroad, and Co looks guilty; return, and he faces ethics probes and potential charges. But if Co’s team cries due process violations, citing Bengzon v. Senate Blue Ribbon, the House’s overreach could backfire.
Public Hearings: The Senate’s Blue Ribbon Committee and House ethics probes are exposing the rot—witnesses like Alcantara and Discaya detail cash deliveries and sham projects. But these hearings, splashed across Reuters, risk becoming a media circus that could taint a future trial. If the government wants justice, they’ll pivot from theatrics to indictments.

The government’s moves are bold but smell of political opportunism. Why crack down now, when flood control scams have festered for years? Is this about justice, or a distraction from other implicated heavyweights like Senators Escudero, Binay, or ex-Speaker Romualdez? The floodgates are open, but this could still be more show than substance.

Endgame Unraveled: Co’s Drowning and the Government’s Next Move

Zaldy Co is a man trapped in a sinking boat, with sharks circling. His options are bleak: return by September 29 and face the House Ethics Committee, Senate hearings, and a likely Sandiganbayan trial, or stay abroad and cement his fugitive status. Returning is a trap—every word will be weaponized, and the AMLC’s freeze limits his resources. Staying away screams guilt, inviting House sanctions like censure or expulsion under House Rules XIX, Section 148. His only hope is a legal technicality—say, a flawed AMLC freeze—or a plea deal if the evidence is airtight. But with P4.3 billion in frozen assets and witnesses spilling like a broken dam, that’s a pipe dream.

The government must shift from spectacle to substance. The AMLC’s freeze and Dy’s revocation are strong, but they’re just the opening act. The Department of Justice (DOJ) and Office of the Ombudsman need to file plunder (RA 7080) or graft (RA 3019) charges, backed by bank records, aircraft titles, and corroborated testimonies. The Sandiganbayan, not the Senate, is where Co’s fate will be sealed. They must also tighten procedural safeguards to avoid a judicial slapdown, learning from Belgica v. Ochoa to reform budget processes and cancel shady projects.

The Final Verdict

In a court of law, Co’s presumed innocent until proven guilty. In the court of public opinion, where billions in helicopters and cash-stuffed bags paint a grim picture, he’s already underwater. The only question is how long this political telenovela drags on before the credits roll. The flood control scandal is a deluge of corruption, and Co’s denials are a flimsy raft. The noose tightens, the evidence piles up, and the Filipino people await justice—or at least a damn good finale.