Every election season, the country falls into the same predictable and tragic pattern: the distribution of cash, groceries, shirts, and even slippers—all carefully handed out in exchange for one sacred thing: the people’s vote. This is not generosity. This is not public service. This is bribery disguised as kindness, a transactional politics that poisons our democracy at its core.
What makes this worse is how easily many people—especially those struggling economically—accept it. For some, it has become a twisted tradition. Politicians are not evaluated based on their qualifications, platforms, or past performance. Instead, they’re measured by how much they’re willing to spend to “win” a vote. A candidate who gives ₱200 is passed over for one who gives ₱500. The vote, which should be a product of careful reflection and hope for the future, is reduced to the highest bidder’s trophy.
This culture of patronage isn’t just the fault of corrupt politicians—it’s a reflection of a society cornered by poverty, disillusionment, and short-term survival. Politicians know this too well. They romanticize poverty in campaign ads, hugging the poor, sharing meals, and shedding crocodile tears in front of cameras. But behind those scenes lies a well-planned scheme to manipulate the vulnerable, exploiting their needs and fears to secure power.
Worse still, public aid—ayuda—has become another tool for vote buying. Those already in power weaponize government resources, selectively handing out assistance close to election periods, creating a false image of concern and goodwill. The aid that should serve all equally becomes a political instrument for control and deception.
And what happens after the election? These same politicians recover their “investments” through inflated government contracts, ghost projects, kickbacks, and outright theft. The peso they gave becomes millions they take back. The result? The cycle of poverty tightens. Roads remain broken, healthcare underfunded, education ignored, and people continue to complain about poor governance—forgetting that their vote helped install the very same officials who betrayed them.
It’s a vicious cycle. And it won’t end unless we end it.
This coming election must be a wake-up call. We can no longer afford to sell our votes for a few hundred pesos and expect change. It’s time to break free from the false generosity of corrupt politicians and vote based on integrity, competence, and vision. Let’s reject the cash-filled envelopes, the sacks of rice, and the insincere promises. Our future is worth more than a one-day payout.
Let’s prove that the Filipino vote cannot be bought—that it must be earned.
