The Slow Murder of the Philippines by Its Voters

By Bella Balisi-Bevilacqua

Burnaby, BC, Canada, 09 September 2025 – The Philippines is not dying inaudibly – it is being choked in broad daylight, its cries suppressed by the applause of those who mistake scraps for a feast. This archipelago, carved by the hands of nature and blessed with riches that could feed generations, is being gutted by the very leaders sworn to protect it. But the knife is not held by them alone—it is guided, repeatedly, by the trembling yet willing hands of voters who choose familiarity over integrity, spectacle over substance. Every election becomes a funeral procession in disguise, where ballots serve as shovels to bury the nation deeper into the mud of corruption. And the world watches, wondering how a people so gifted could be so complicit in their own undoing.

The Philippines is a nation that exports its heroes—nurses, engineers, seafarers, teachers—scattered across the globe to build other countries’ dreams while its own crumble. These modern-day lifelines send home billions, yet dynasties squander their sacrifices fattened on public funds and empty promises. The tragedy is not just in the theft of money, but in the theft of hope, as each generation grows up believing that this is “how things are.” The unfortunate fact is that the Filipino is conditioned to accept the unacceptable, to laugh off the lies, to shrug at the scandals, as if outrage is a luxury we cannot afford. And so, the cycle of betrayal spins on, greased by our silence and sealed by our votes.

A satellite image from Google Earth depicting deforested zones adjacent to the Northern Sierra Madre Natural Park in Dinapigue, Isabela, has gained widespread attention across social media platforms. (Image Grabbed from Inquirer.Net)

The land itself groans under the weight of greed. Forests are stripped bare, rivers poisoned, mountains hollowed out for minerals that vanish into the pockets of the powerful. Floods swallow entire communities because funds for flood control are siphoned into phantom projects, while leaders pose for cameras in rubber boots after the damage is done. Schools rot, hospitals run dry, and yet the budget for vanity projects swells like a tumour. These are not accidents—they are deliberate acts of neglect, crimes committed in the open, with the electorate as unwitting accomplices. And still, come election day, the same names are inked onto ballots as if we are signing our own death warrants.

Our politics is a carnival of distractions, where karaoke jingles, celebrity endorsements, and the distribution of rice and sardines drown out competence. We do not elect leaders—we crown entertainers, heirs, and opportunists, mistaking charm for character and handouts for governance. The media, often shackled by vested interests, feeds us drama instead of truth, turning national crises into soap operas. Accountability is treated as an optional extra, and the truth is whatever the loudest voice declares it to be. In this theatre of the absurd, democracy is reduced to a stage play, and the audience keeps buying tickets.

What makes this slow murder unbearable is that it is entirely preventable. We have the resources, the talent, the strategic position to rise as a force in Asia, yet we choose to crawl. We could build a nation where farmers thrive, where children learn with dignity, where cities are planned with foresight, and where public service is sacred. But these dreams remain locked away because we keep handing the keys to thieves. Until we demand leaders who are builders instead of looters, visionaries instead of vultures, the Philippines will remain a patient bleeding out on the operating table. At the same time, the surgeons argue over who gets the inheritance.

The slow murder of the Philippines is not a mystery—it is a crime scene with millions of fingerprints. It happens in the open, in barangay halls and polling stations, in the cheers for campaign caravans and the selfies with politicians. The killers are not just the corrupt, but the complacent, the cynical, the ones who say “Wala namang magbabago” and then proceed to prove themselves right. The nation is bleeding from a thousand cuts, each one inflicted by a choice, a shrug, a surrender. And unless the people themselves decide to rise, to break the cycle, to vote as if the country’s life depends on it—because it does—the Philippines will not be murdered swiftly, but will wither away, one election at a time. MBB