Flooded with Corruption: The Media in Philippine Advocacy
Posts of designer bags and monthly vacations flash across the screen. Scroll down; there are posts about flooded public schools, wrecked homes, and past warnings for Typhoon Bualoi. Scroll again, you see a daughter of a flood-control contractor, enjoying a dinner worth $18,000 CAD, and another so-called service professional owning a museum of luxury cars. This is the current algorithm of the Philippine media.
On September 21, 2025, thousands of people gathered in Metro Manila to rally against the corruption that has long penetrated the Philippines. The public cried out against the billions of government funds plundered by contractors and politicians. The trillions of pesos intended for flood control somehow only produced 421 ghost projects. The audit inconsistencies of the Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) were not only evident in infrastructure for natural disasters but also manifested in non-materialized health and academic facilities.
Embezzlement is not unfamiliar to the people of the Philippines. In fact, there have been multiple points in history where ordinary citizens stood up against corruption and advocated for justice in the country. The EDSA People Power Revolution, for instance, called around 20,000 participants to counter the potential continuation of the 1986 Marcos dictatorship. The unity of the people led to the Marcos’s fleeing to Hawaii and to the restoration of democracy. In addition, the “Million People March” in 2013 fought against the government’s discretionary funds given to officials. This movement began with a Facebook post calling attention to the ₱232,000,000 missing intended for agricultural workers. Both protests called for political change, which translated to the shift in government and policy reforms. Despite the reforms, these past movements were arguably unsuccessful in addressing their one underlying issue: corruption.

The public’s demand for accountability, however, did not completely die. The flood-control controversy unleashed new anger from the public. You swipe through your phone, and the news is there. You look up at your TV, and the news is there. You pick up your newspaper, and the news is there. Why has such a “normal” controversy become so relevant? Well, it is because it is there—in the media platforms of the Filipino people.
The media has had a vital role in revealing the reality of corruption, sparking frustration from the public, and enlarging the scope of protests. Local news outlets had their journalists closely watch the event’s turning points, swiftly broadcasting their findings. Records of Senate hearings concerning responsible actors, such as contractors Pacifico and Sarah Discaya, were made available on platforms like YouTube. The number of flood control projects funded by the government, the number each contractor was responsible for, and the value of each project, were reported by news outlets such as the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism. The message of the data—and the realness of the issue—was comprehensible to anyone: the Philippine people were being cheated.
A mosaic of people joined together on September 21. The organization of the “Baha sa Luneta; Aksyon na Laban sa Korapsyon” (Flooding at Luneta; Action against Corruption) rally and the “Trillion Peso March”, which occurred a few hours after, was a collaboration of diverse civil societies. Media platforms shared the details of the protest with the public, informing people how to get free transportation to the rallies and how to prepare for a whole day’s protest, such as bringing extra clothes and first aid essentials. During the event, phones were brought out to record a movement that had assembled people together, from ordinary citizens to celebrities. Microphones were given to TV personalities and artists to boost the morale and emotion of the crowd. These prominent individuals did not limit their activism to the rally. Many took to social media to express their frustration and encourage others to speak up, whether it be via post or even by sharing the trending song “Upuan”, a song by Filipino rapper Gloc-9 that critiqued the rigged power dynamics of the country.

Many of the anti-corruption protesters were of the younger demographic. Students from the University of the Philippines Diliman and Rizal Technological University have been holding protests a few weeks earlier than the “Baha sa Luneta.” UP’s “Black Friday” rally was in response to their building, a ghost project of the DPWH, that was under construction for the past eight years. As a university student expressed, “Galit na galit ang mga scholar ng bayan sa mga corrupt, sa mga papabaya ng tungkulin” (“The scholars of the nation are angry at those who are corrupt, those who turn their backs on their duty”).
Formal media platforms acted as a spark to the civil unrest, fueling the public with as much information as news sources could get hold of. Moreover, informal platforms became discussion forums for the public. The fire slowly grew and spread in every Instagram post, X comment, and Facebook reel. The #nepo babies became trending on TikTok, a hashtag that criticized the children who benefited from their parents’ laundering of welfare money. The Philippine youth saw the stark contrast between the glamour-ridden lifestyles online and the reality they faced every day. They saw, and they mobilized. Protests were therefore largely inevitable.
The youth-led movement against corruption is not confined to the Philippine archipelago. The demand for accountability is evident in other Southeast Asian countries, such as with the recent demonstrations in Indonesia and the overthrow of the Nepalese government. As media and technology evolve over time, mobilization and public cohesion become more feasible to achieve around the world.
The media algorithms highlight the inequality people live in. There is hope that the next time you scroll through your phone, you will see fewer videos of rallies and of crowds chanting for the imprisonment of the corrupt. The Philippine people protest with the goal that they don’t ever protest again. The people protest in the hopes that when you scroll, you will see the Philippines as a nation of transparency, accountability, and true justice.
Edited by Georgia Massis
Featured image: A protestor waving the Philippine flag during the demonstration on September 21, 2025. “The Pride of the Filipino” by Cyberneticboylol, is licensed under CC-BY-SA-4.0.