Gridlock and High Water

While the waters rose in the barangays of Jaro, a different kind of flood inundated Iloilo City Hall and the district office of the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH): a deluge of legal threats, cease-and-desist orders, and fiery accusations.

As Ilonggos salvaged their belongings from the mud, their leaders were engaged in a bitter war of words. The tug-of-war between Mayor Raisa Treñas-Chu and DPWH-Iloilo City District Engineer Roy Pacanan has become a masterclass in bureaucratic paralysis, a stark reminder that when institutions fight, it is the people who drown.

The dispute is a tangled mess of conflicting narratives. Mayor Treñas-Chu, citing grave damage and the loss of two lives, issued a cease-and-desist order on July 24, asserting that DPWH projects along the city’s vital waterways “in reality and in fact, amount to reclamation.” She branded the conversion of creeks into bike lanes as “criminally irresponsible,” accusing the agency of violating the Local Government Code by failing to coordinate properly.

Engineer Pacanan fired back with equal force, calling the city’s basis for the order “half-truths and outright lies.” In a scathing letter, he insisted the DPWH had, in fact, widened the Buntatala Creek from roughly 1.5 meters to 4.0 meters, and that his office had submitted 16 monthly status reports. He argued the city’s order was legally invalid, or ultra vires, citing Republic Act No. 8975, which bars local governments from halting national projects. He concluded with a stark warning: “Should you persist… we will not take this matter sitting down,” threatening suits under the Anti-Graft and Corrupt Practices Act.

While lawyers trade jargon and officials wave documents, the human cost of this deadlock mounts. The city’s legal officer, Joseph Edward Areño, tragically highlighted this by citing the death of a 13-year-old boy found in Buntatala Creek, a situation that “exacerbated the situation—necessitating urgent, prompt, and firm action.” Residents in Zone 1, Barangay Balantang, wrote their own desperate letters, pleading for intervention after severe flooding on July 12. For them, debates over DPWH Circulars and the nuances of inter-agency coordination mean nothing when water is seeping into their homes. This bureaucratic absurdity—where proving a legal point becomes more important than preventing a tragedy—is an indictment of both parties.

Beneath the surface of this administrative feud runs a deep political current. Pacanan’s pointed claim that his office had coordinated with the previous administration of former Mayor Jerry Treñas, the current mayor’s father, transforms this from a simple policy dispute into a complex political test. It invites the uncomfortable question: Is Mayor Raisa Treñas-Chu boldly correcting a problem her father’s administration was complicit in, or is she creating a public conflict her predecessor managed to avoid?

When Pacanan asserts that the mayor was “misled by your own people or you simply ignored the facts,” it is a direct challenge to the authority of a new leader operating in the shadow of a formidable political legacy. Every move she makes in this high-stakes confrontation is an expenditure of precious political capital. Is this fight a necessary assertion of her leadership, or a risky gamble that distracts from the urgent need for a unified flood-control strategy?

The one glimmer of hope in this murky situation is the intervention of DPWH Secretary Manuel Bonoan and the decision to halt the projects pending a “scientific, objective, and comprehensive study” by experts from the University of the Philippines. This is the only sensible path forward. It elevates the discussion from a political squabble to a technical and scientific inquiry.

Now, both Mayor Treñas-Chu and Engineer Pacanan face their true test. They must publicly and unequivocally commit to abiding by the findings of this independent study, whatever they may be. The welfare of Ilonggos must finally trump jurisdictional pride and political posturing. The ultimate measure of their leadership will not be who wins this war of words, but whether they can work together to ensure that the next time the rains come, the only thing rising is the city’s resilience, not the floodwaters.