Vice President Sara Duterte’s melodramatic story about her father supposedly collapsing inside his cell at The Hague made headlines. But the timing is too convenient to ignore. While the nation was distracted, the real storm broke: revelations about how billions in flood-control funds were siphoned off during the Duterte years, and how the network around the so-called “king and queen” of flood control, Curlee and Sarah Discaya, extends deep into the Senate halls themselves.
According to business news outlet Bilyonaryo, the Anti-Money Laundering Council (AMLC) recently froze 425 bank accounts in 12 banks after tracking an eye-watering ₱180 billion in suspicious transactions from 2016 to 2025. That period is no coincidence—it mirrors almost exactly the Duterte presidency. And the lion’s share of those billions? They flowed straight to the Discayas, whose construction firms turned the Department of Public Works and Highways into their personal ATM.
The breakdown is jaw-dropping. St. Gerrard Construction secured ₱70.53 billion between 2014 and 2025, including ₱4.6 billion in 2017. St. Timothy Construction, which barely registered before 2016, ballooned by 115,000% to corner ₱48.3 billion. Alpha & Omega General Contractor raked in ₱45 billion, peaking at ₱7 billion in 2022—a surge of 16,000% compared to its pre-Duterte footprint. St. Matthew General Contractor added ₱18.8 billion, most of it post-2016.
The AMLC flagged unmistakable laundering red flags: round-tripped deposits, frenzied inter-account transfers, even a single-day ₱571.55 million shuffle by St. Timothy. Senator Ping Lacson later confirmed the Discayas amassed ₱207 billion in projects between 2016 and 2025, more than half during Duterte’s watch.
This is the context for why Duterte’s allies, including Senator Rodante Marcoleta, appear so defensive whenever the Discayas are scrutinized. Because the scandal doesn’t stop with the contractors. It touches institutions tied to lawmakers themselves.
Corporate records reveal that Edna M. Marcoleta, the senator’s wife, is listed as an independent director and audit committee chair at Stronghold Insurance Co., Inc.—a major non-life insurer that issued bonds for contractors connected to the Discayas. In fact, notarized records from 2022 confirm Sarah Discaya, through Alpha & Omega, personally transacted with Stronghold for bond obligations linked to public works projects.
Further, Edna Marcoleta also sat on the 2023 board of Milestone Guaranty and Assurance, which issued a ₱19.29 million bond for Elite General Contractor, another Discaya-owned firm. That bond covered a ₱192.9 million flood-control dike project in Naujan, Oriental Mindoro—a project investigators later declared “ghost infrastructure,” with no dike to be found despite the funds being released.
To its credit, Stronghold Insurance issued a public statement after the controversy broke. It clarified that Edna Marcoleta is only an independent board member, with no involvement in daily management, and that Curlee and Sarah Discaya hold no ownership or control in the company. On paper, this provides a layer of distance. But in practice, the optics remain troubling: a senator whose spouse sits on the board of a firm transacting with contractors now under investigation, while he himself consistently appears to shield those same contractors during Senate hearings.
Conflict of interest doesn’t always require ownership. Sometimes the appearance alone is corrosive enough to erode trust.
Which is why Senator Marcoleta’s behavior in committee hearings has raised eyebrows. He has bristled at criticisms of the Discayas, pushed for them to be admitted into witness protection, and sparred with colleagues who questioned the scale of their contracts. At one point, Senator Lacson even asked outright: “Why are you so protective of the Discayas?” The question still hangs unanswered.
The bigger picture is hard to ignore. A flood-control cartel captured billions in state funds. The Duterte administration provided the political cover. Financial institutions moved the money. Insurance firms underwrote the projects. And lawmakers now scramble to keep the truth buried, spinning tales of “cranial injuries” abroad while the rot festers here at home.
Filipinos deserve accountability, not theatrics. Every phantom dike, every overpriced canal, every peso that vanished into this scheme represents lives left at risk when the next typhoon strikes. Yet the Senate inquiry itself risks collapse under the weight of its own compromised members.
If this body wishes to prove it serves the people, not a cartel, then senators whose households are tied—directly or indirectly—to these contractors must recuse themselves. Anything less turns the investigation into a charade.
The Duterte camp can peddle distractions, but the numbers don’t lie: ₱180 billion in suspicious flows, ₱207 billion in cornered projects, and a country left literally underwater. Until the web of protection is broken, corruption will continue to rise like floodwaters—and drown us all.
