Buy One Crisis, Get One Accountability-Free

 

Amid rising diesel prices, the threat of war, and the approaching Holy Week, a new political miracle has been invented: instant absolution via crisis.

No need for confession, no need for penance—you just need enough problems in the country, and voilà, you’re shielded from the scrutiny.

Here’s the scene: a house is on fire.

Instead of asking who held the match, some say, “Let’s not talk about that—look, we’re burning!”

And because the delivery is dramatic, complete with a highly emotional background music and a few tears, it somehow becomes the fire inspector’s fault for showing up.

In the new doctrine of “Crisis Theology,” accountability is seasonal—like fruit.

When diesel is expensive and Holy Week is near, it’s off-limits.

Postpone the truth, freeze the investigation, and just pray it goes away on its own—like traffic on EDSA that suddenly clears up (spoiler: it won’t).

“The people have nothing to eat,” they say. True.

But it seems some are still well-fed—fed on power, fed on immunity, and fed on the idea that responsibility is like an umbrella: used only when convenient.

What’s even more amusing is that accountability is being called “politicking,” as if it were a new insult.

It’s like saying, “Don’t investigate us—that’s so rude, you’re treating us like politicians!”

Confusing, since we thought that was their job.

Meanwhile, the other side has a simple question: if people’s suffering matters, why doesn’t it matter who caused it?

If there’s a crisis, shouldn’t truth matter even more?

Or perhaps in the new math of politics, as diesel prices rise, the standard of accountability falls?

In the end, it feels like a clearance sale: “Accountability—50% off during national emergencies!”

Limited-time offer. Terms and conditions apply. Truth not included.

And as Holy Week approaches, perhaps it’s worth asking:
Hindi lang “Nasaan ang kaluluwa ninyo sa bayan?”

Kundi, “kanino na ba ito naibenta?”