Public roads are not playgrounds for the powerful. They are lifelines—used daily by farmers hauling vegetables to market, workers rushing to earn a living, students crossing highways, tricycle drivers ferrying passengers, and families simply trying to get home alive. Yet in recent days, Mindanao’s highways have been hijacked by a parade of privilege, spectacle, and recklessness: the BOSS Ironman Mindanao Cup, billed as an “endurance challenge,” has instead left behind blood on the asphalt, broken bones, ruined livelihoods, and a public outrage that can no longer be ignored.
On February 1, 2026, a rider participating in the event crashed into a tricycle in Kibawe, Bukidnon, killing Ronhums Tomuham, 45. In Talakag, Bukidnon, a farmer on his way to sell vegetables was struck by a rider; his leg fractured, his motorcycle destroyed, his produce ruined, and his livelihood lost. In Lantapan, families reported being hit by participants passing through without coordination. In Kidapawan City, riders were captured running red lights along major roads. These are not isolated incidents—they are systemic, predictable, and, for many, preventable. And yet, as of this writing, there has been no meaningful accountability from the organizers, the authorities, or the sponsors.
The outrage across Mindanao is palpable, and for good reason. Ordinary citizens who would face swift arrest for such violations see a different reality when the violators are wealthy, famous, or politically connected. Participants in the BOSS Ironman are riding high-powered motorcycles, traveling hundreds of kilometers over a 1,200-kilometer route across the island, passing through Cotabato City, General Santos, Sultan Naga Dimaporo, Sindangan, Dipolog City, Oroquieta City, Valencia City, Digos City, Cagayan de Oro, and other municipalities. They are not professional racers—they are middle-to-upper-class thrill-seekers, yet they enjoy what many perceive as a “VIP treatment” on public roads, ignoring traffic laws and putting ordinary citizens in harm’s way.
The voices of the people are rising. Across social media, families of victims and concerned Mindanaons are launching a vigorous campaign: Ban BIMC! Ban the BOSS Ironman Motorcycle Challenge! The call is simple but urgent: enough is enough. Public roads should not be used as a playground for adrenaline, status, or spectacle while civilians bear the consequences. The event has resulted in accidents, injuries, and even death, yet organizers remain silent, failing to provide statements or assume responsibility. Even the presence of former Senator Manny Pacquiao as a participant underscores the high-profile nature of the event, yet prestige cannot and should not exempt anyone from accountability.
Local leaders have begun taking a stand. Kidapawan City Mayor has publicly declared that no such event will be allowed to pass through his city in the future. Lantapan Vice Mayor Ernie Devibar criticized the lack of coordination, highlighting multiple traffic violations such as overspeeding, red-light running, and illegal overtaking. These are not mere technicalities; they are violations that directly endanger lives, destroy property, and disrupt communities. Tourism, development, or public good cannot justify the destruction left in the wake of these riders.
The truth is clear: the BOSS Ironman Mindanao Cup is less a sporting event than a dangerous display of privilege, where ordinary lives are treated as expendable collateral. Ordinary citizens should never be forced to serve as a safety buffer for the enjoyment, endurance tests, or vanity of the affluent. Roads are not racetracks. Public safety must never be negotiable, and no permit, sponsor, or celebrity endorsement should override the most basic responsibility of government: to protect life and enforce the law equally for all.
If an activity consistently puts the public at risk, it is not a sport—it is a public safety threat. The deaths, injuries, and destruction left behind by the BOSS Ironman show that the pursuit of prestige has outrun common sense, decency, and law. Until the same rules apply to everyone—rich or poor, famous or unknown—Mindanaons are justified in shouting, demanding, and campaigning: Ban BIMC. Protect ordinary citizens. Uphold justice. Save lives.
Public roads belong to the public. No endurance challenge, no convoy, no social status, and no celebrity can ever justify the loss of life. Every delay in accountability, every failure to regulate, every silent nod to privilege is a reminder that double-standard policies are murdering ordinary people—and that silence is complicity.