Davao City deserves better than this. What was promised as a landmark infrastructure project to ease traffic and spur growth in one of Mindanao’s fastest-growing cities has become nothing more than a ₱3.3 billion monument to negligence, waste, and failed governance.

Four years since its groundbreaking in February 2021, the Davao Catalunan Pequeño–Ulas Viaduct and Flyover stands half-built, abandoned, and dangerous. Instead of delivering relief, it has delivered misery. Instead of progress, it has created paralysis. And instead of embodying public trust, it reeks of betrayal.

The findings of the Philippine Anti-Corruption Czar (PACC) are damning: idle equipment, absent contractors, gaping pits left unbarricaded, a worker’s death by electrocution, and the silence of officials who have not even bothered to put up a project billboard as required by law. When a ₱3.3 billion taxpayer-funded project hides its own identity from the public, one thing becomes clear—those behind it are hiding something.

Worse, DPWH Region XI’s alibis—right-of-way disputes, utility delays, and a supposed funding freeze—do not absolve them of accountability. These are recurring problems in infrastructure projects nationwide, yet other regions have found ways to deliver. Why not here? Why has this project been left to rot while motorists choke in traffic, children risk their lives near open pits, and businesses close their doors?

Let us be blunt: this is not just incompetence. This smells of corruption. The absence of transparency, the lack of urgency, and the billions already released with little to show all point to systemic mismanagement at best and plunder at worst.

Davao City, once touted as a model of discipline and governance, now hosts a glaring symbol of broken promises. The Ulas Flyover has become a cautionary tale of how infrastructure can be weaponized for political gain, launched with fanfare during election seasons, only to be abandoned once the cameras are gone.

The people deserve answers. Who pocketed the funds? Why was funding allegedly withheld despite the project being in the General Appropriations Act? Why has DPWH Region XI not been relieved despite their glaring failure to manage this project? Why must residents suffer while officials point fingers?

The PACC has laid out clear recommendations—fund audits, public dashboards, safety measures, and even Congressional inquiry. These must not remain on paper. Accountability must be swift and unforgiving. If we let this pass, then we are normalizing corruption as the standard, not the exception.

Infrastructure is not just about roads and bridges—it is about trust. Every unfinished column in Ulas is a reminder that trust has been broken. Every day of delay is another day that Davaoeños are cheated of safety, livelihood, and mobility.

The Ulas Flyover is no longer just a traffic solution—it is now a test of political will. Will our leaders act, or will they allow this ₱3.3 billion scandal to stand as another concrete tombstone of corruption?

Davao City is watching. The nation is watching. And the people will remember who stood by as they suffered.

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