Sinking Flyovers and the Pie of Corruption

For every Ilonggo who endures the daily gridlock on the highway in Pavia and Iloilo City, the useless shell of the Aganan Flyover is more than an inconvenience. It is a monument to failure, a P680-million question mark hanging over our landscape.

For years, the narrative has been one of technical errors, of shifting soil and flawed design. But what if the real problem isn’t just incompetence? What if the “sinking piers” are merely a symptom of a deeper, systemic disease?

This month, Senator Panfilo Lacson delivered a privilege speech that should be required reading for every taxpayer. In “Flooded Gates of Corruption,” he laid bare the playbook of systemic corruption in public works, providing a new vocabulary—a “corruptionary”—to understand how our money vanishes. He spoke not of random acts, but of a well-oiled machine.

At the heart of this machine is a concept he calls “pie-sharing.” Based on testimony from DPWH insiders and contractors, Lacson detailed how a project’s budget is carved up before a single bag of cement is mixed.

After legal deductions, the remaining funds are consumed by kickbacks: 8-10% for DPWH officials, 5-6% for the Bids and Awards Committee, and a staggering 20-25% for the political “funder” or proponent. The damning conclusion: “ang matitirang pondo para sa pagpapatayo ng proyekto ay napakaswerte nang umabot sa 40%.”

Let us apply this brutal math to our local monuments of failure. The Ungka Flyover cost P680 million. The nearby Aganan Flyover, also facing structural issues, is budgeted at P802 million. Using the formula Lacson exposed, if only 40% of these funds were actually used for construction, were these projects not designed to fail from the very beginning? If hundreds of millions of pesos were siphoned off into private pockets, a sinking foundation is not a geological surprise—it is an inevitable outcome. Substandard materials and rushed work are no longer just negligence; they are a direct consequence of a budget starved by greed.

Senator Lacson found “ghost projects” in Bulacan—fully funded structures that did not exist. Iloilo has its own unique monstrosity: not a ghost, but a zombie project. The Aganan flyover is physically present, yet functionally dead. It serves no purpose but to obstruct traffic and public patience. Worse, this zombie continues to feed on public funds. The DPWH itself estimates that rectification could cost another P250 million, adding to a sunk cost that has yielded nothing but misery. It is a constant, rotting reminder of a system that prioritizes private wealth over public good.

The alarm bells are ringing locally. On August 19, 5th District Board Member Rolex T. Suplico called for a probe into P1.8 billion worth of flood control projects in his district, citing potential “congressional insertions” similar to those Lacson flagged. The ensuing debate at the Sangguniang Panlalawigan, where some members cautioned against a “witch hunt” without a clearer scope, is telling. While prudence is a virtue, it cannot become an excuse for paralysis. The visible, undeniable, and costly failures of the Ungka and Aganan flyovers provide more than enough grounds to begin a serious, evidence-based investigation.

We must move the conversation beyond technical jargon. The question is no longer just “Why are the piers sinking?” but “Who got a slice of the pie?” It is no longer about soil tests, but about a test of our collective will to demand accountability.

Senator Lacson concluded that what our country needs more than flood control is “greed control.” The flyovers of Iloilo are our Exhibit A. They are proof that corruption is not a victimless crime. The price is paid in our wasted time, our stalled economy, and our eroded faith in public service. The time for excuses is over. It is time to dissect the pie.