Accountability is Real Closure

There is no victory in completion if corruption and incompetence have already spoiled the journey.

The Ungka Flyover in Iloilo, now open to full capacity after years of delay and rectification, should not be paraded as a triumph.

It should instead be a grim marker of how government infrastructure can fail—not just structurally, but ethically and financially.

Senator Joel Villanueva was correct when he said, “It’s embarrassing.”

More than the embarrassment, however, is the deeper offense: nearly PHP1 billion in public funds funneled into a project riddled with engineering flaws and mismanagement.

The flyover’s early closure due to vertical displacement of its piers showed how negligence and haste endanger public safety.

For months, it became a monument of bureaucratic silence and finger-pointing.

What’s more disconcerting is how the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) has refused to assign blame.

This deliberate amnesia speaks volumes.

It tells the public that accountability ends where completion begins, no matter how flawed or delayed that completion is.

But accountability must not be measured by ribbon cuttings or press photos.

It must be measured by competence, prudence, and respect for taxpayers’ money.

The Senate’s planned investigation into the Ungka Flyover—under the broader probe into the collapse of the Cabagan-Sta. Maria Bridge in Isabela—is a welcome development.

This must not be another case of selective outrage or a fleeting political spectacle.

The audit ordered by Congress, which includes the Ungka project among eight questionable infrastructures nationwide, should be more than a compliance exercise.

It must examine the roots: Who approved the plans? Were soil tests and designs rigorously evaluated? Were warning signs ignored during construction? Who signed off on its opening despite safety risks?

And why, as Villanueva pointed out, is the public expected to pay again for retrofitting what was already paid for?

In a time when government champions “Build Better More,” the irony is hard to miss. What good are bridges and flyovers if they collapse under their own weight—literally and morally?

Infrastructure development, when stripped of accountability, becomes a hollow pursuit. The Ungka Flyover case shows that throwing more money at a broken process will only produce more costly ruins.

Worse, it sends a message to contractors and public officials that incompetence carries no consequences.

The DPWH Region 6 office’s decision not to assign blame—opting instead to emphasize the flyover’s usability—is emblematic of a system where reputational cleanup takes priority over responsibility.

This goes beyond a single project in Iloilo. It reflects a culture of impunity that enables failures to spread—across regions, across budgets, and across administrations.

The bridge in Isabela, the collapsed structure in Bohol, and the retrofitting in Mindanao all share a pattern: flawed execution, late fixes, and no clear accountability.

Villanueva was right again in his closing words: “Everyone must be accountable.”

That includes local government units, engineers, inspectors, and the private contractors involved. No infrastructure should be insulated from scrutiny just because it now appears functional.

Physical completion does not cancel out the loss of public trust or the public funds bled in the process.

The Ungka Flyover saga should not close with its reopening. It should close with names, investigations, restitutions, and policy reforms.

Until then, its pillars will stand not as symbols of progress—but as warnings cast in concrete.