“HINDI AKO NAG-RESIGN!”

The Executive Secretary Screams from the Grave of His Own Political Funeral

By Louis “Barok” C. Biraogo — November 22, 2025

1. The Resignation That Wasn’t: A Love Story in Two Contrasting Scripts

Malacañang: “He stepped down out of delicadeza. So noble. So graceful. So very voluntary.”
Lucas Bersamin, live on national television: “Hindi ako nag-resign.”

Two narratives. One megaphone. Zero resignation letters.
Welcome to Philippine governance in 2025 – where truth is whatever the Palace press release says it is… until the corpse starts talking back.

**He never resigned—his tongue just signed a loyalty waiver to the flood.**

2. Delicadeza: The Magical Word That Turns a Firing Squad into a Red-Carpet Exit

Delicadeza™ – now available in “Extra Strength Cover-Up” flavor!
Just sprinkle liberally whenever a high official becomes politically radioactive. Instantly transforms an unceremonious sacking into a heroic act of self-sacrifice. Side effects may include public nausea, uncontrollable laughter, and the slow death of whatever credibility the administration had left.

3. The P52-Billion (or Was It P100-Billion?) Vanishing Flood Trick

While Metro Manila drowns every July, someone allegedly performed the greatest magic act in legislative history: making tens of billions in flood-control funds disappear into thin air – or, more likely, into very specific pockets.
Abracadabra! Ghost projects appear!
Presto! The money is gone!
For the grand finale: blame the guy we just “accepted the resignation” of – even though he swears he never resigned.

4. “He Had to Go” – A Phrase That Should Chill Every Filipino Spine

Those four little words Bersamin let slip – “Sinabi sa akin na kailangan ko nang umalis” – are the political equivalent of hearing the safety click off.
When the former Chief Justice, the Little President himself, is told “you have to go” and then watches the Palace rewrite history in real time, we are no longer watching a reshuffle.
We are watching a palace coup disguised as delicadeza.

5. The Palace School of Creative Writing: How to Announce a Non-Existent Resignation

Lesson #1: Never let facts get in the way of a good narrative.
Lesson #2: When cornered, simply repeat: “The announcement came from Malacañang.”
Lesson #3: If the ex-official contradicts you on national TV, pretend you’re discussing the weather.
Extra credit: Use the phrase “presidential prerogative” until people fall asleep.

6. The Bersamin Contradiction Is Now a National Emergency

When the second most powerful man in government and the Palace cannot agree on whether he quit or was pushed, we have crossed into banana-republic territory – except even bananas have documentation.
This is not a gaffe. This is a constitutional crisis wearing the cheap costume of a press briefing.

7. One Simple Demand Before the Next Typhoon Kills Again

Publish the damn letter.
All of it. Unredacted. Today.
Let the Filipino people read for themselves whether Lucas Bersamin wrote “I hereby resign” or whether he wrote the bureaucratic equivalent of “Do whatever you want with me, boss.”

If the letter says he resigned – great, Bersamin is the liar.
If the letter says nothing of the sort – congratulations, Malacañang, you just confessed to the nation that you will lie about anything, even the exit of your own alter-ego, to save the President’s skin.

Your move, Palace.

Because the floods are coming again.
And this time, the Filipino people have every right to ask:
Are we drowning in water… or in lies?

Hold them accountable.
Or prepare to swim.