QUEZON CITY – Amid the swelling chants and white-clad throngs at the People Power Monument, Akbayan party-list Rep. Chel Diokno seized the Trillion Peso March’s microphone on Sunday to deliver a searing indictment of Presidents Ferdinand Marcos Jr. and Vice President Sara Duterte, declaring that the duo owes the Filipino people not just transparency and justice, but a long-overdue dose of good governance. “You have a debt, and you will pay it,” Diokno thundered to a crowd pulsing with anti-corruption fervor, framing the rally as a down payment on the 2028 elections where, he vowed, the people would reclaim the reins.
The backdrop was electric: Thousands converged on Edsa’s sacred stretch for the nationwide protest against graft – from the Duterte era’s drug war bloodletting to Marcos’ flood control fiasco – coinciding with Andres Bonifacio’s birth anniversary, the revolutionary firebrand whose legacy loomed large over the day’s demands. Diokno, a human rights lawyer turned lawmaker, wasted no time in the ledger of debts, starting with the simplest yet most evasive: Statements of Assets, Liabilities, and Net Worth (SALNs). “BBM, where is your SALN? Sara, where is your SALN?” he challenged in Filipino, spotlighting Akbayan’s own transparency as a stark contrast. “We in Akbayan have already released our SALNs. You have a debt, and you will pay it.”
The litany deepened into darker chapters. For the Dutertes, Diokno invoked the ghosts of the drug war: “You owe justice to all the victims of the war on drugs, and you also owe a debt for all the corruption you committed when you were sitting in Malacañang.” Turning to Marcos, he skewered the administration’s infrastructure inheritance – “ghost projects, substandard projects, all kinds of projects filled with corruption.” The November 26 bicameral conference committee’s closed-door dealings drew special ire: Budget insertions, the gutting of an independent probe commission, stalled fund forfeitures, and the anti-political dynasty bill’s limbo. “You will pay for that,” Diokno repeated, his voice a rhythmic drumbeat of reckoning.
But the coup de grâce? Good governance itself. “But there is still one more – a debt for good governance,” Diokno proclaimed. “I think they cannot pay that because they do not know how to practice good governance. That is why it will be us – we will be the ones to replace them in 2028.” The crowd erupted, a tidal wave of applause crashing against the monument as Diokno’s words hung like a gauntlet thrown for the midterms.
The Trillion Peso March, a multisectoral roar backed by 86 Catholic dioceses and labor giants, wasn’t just a vent – it was a vow. From Edsa’s echoes to Luneta’s lawns, protesters – fisherfolk from Samar, jeepney drivers from Manila, urban poor from Tondo – demanded the unmasking of crooks, the clawback of stolen billions, and jail for the guilty. Palatino of Bayan, sharing the stage, amplified the call: “No big fishes jailed yet – vigilance is our weapon.” As the sun dipped, the message lingered: In a nation forged by Bonifacio’s blaze, the fire for fairness burns eternal – and 2028 beckons as the next bonfire.