General Santos City Mayor Lorelie Pacquiao’s request for a ₱90-million confidential fund for 2026—a 12% increase from this year’s already swollen ₱80-million allocation—demands not applause, but scrutiny. This figure is not only unprecedented; it is also a sharp break from the previous administration, whose confidential budget remained at ₱30 million from 2019 to 2022. Under Mayor Pacquiao, it doubled to ₱60 million in 2023, rose again to ₱80 million in 2024, and now sits at ₱90 million for next year. Year after year, the public is asked to trust that more secrecy means better governance. But what has the city actually gained?
Confidential funds, by design, operate in the shadows—used for surveillance and intelligence activities related to peace and order, stability, and crisis response. They are not subject to normal auditing rules. They rely heavily on the “trust” that those who spend them do so responsibly. But trust in government is not a blank check, and certainly not a blank check worth ₱90 million.
Mayor Pacquiao claims the fund will support “responsive and people-oriented programs,” insisting on prudent and judicious management of resources. Yet the increase raises the same uncomfortable questions that City Hall has never addressed:
- Has the ballooning confidential fund reduced crime rates?
- Has it dismantled local corruption?
- Has it curbed smuggling—most especially cigarettes—when General Santos City currently ranks among the highest in illegal cigarette sales and trafficking?
- With a city of this size, why is such a massive confidential fund even necessary?
These are not rhetorical questions. They are accountability questions. And the silence of the local government in answering them is exactly why the public should worry.
General Santos City is proposing a ₱4.7-billion budget for 2026, the biggest in its history. Citizens deserve to see where public money goes, how effectively it is used, and what results it produces. But confidential funds—precisely because they are shielded from standard auditing—are the easiest to abuse, and historically, the most abused. They operate in a gray zone where receipts are vague, reporting is minimal, and oversight is nearly nonexistent.
Confidential funds are not inherently bad. They can be necessary. But they must be justified, results-based, and proportionate to actual security needs. A continuously expanding confidential budget with no visible improvements in peace and order, no crackdown against smuggling, and no significant anti-corruption outcomes is not a sign of effective governance—it is a red flag.
Mayor Pacquiao says good planning and cooperation will lead to more effective services. Fair enough. But what the people of General Santos need is transparent governance, not a growing pool of untouchable funds. What they need is measurable improvement, not vague promises wrapped in secrecy.
Until City Hall can show—in concrete, verifiable terms—how these massive confidential funds have made the city safer, cleaner, and more accountable, taxpayers have every right to push back. A bigger confidential fund does not automatically mean better governance. Sometimes, it simply means bigger questions that those in power refuse to answer.
And in General Santos City, those questions are only getting louder.