The brouhaha over the clamping of the private vehicles of Cebu City Councilors Winston Pepito and Harry Erran — parked in “No-parking zones” during the novena of the Feast of Sto. Niño — is as ironic as it is amusing. Curiously, it was not Pepito or Erran who complained, but fellow councilor Hon. Pastor Alcover Jr., a vocal critic of Mayor Nestor Archival. Alcover took to social media to air his grievances.
On Jan. 14, 2026, Councilor Alcover criticized CCTO (Cebu City Transportation Office) Chief Raquel Arce in a Facebook Live broadcast, accusing her of arrogance and questioning the clamping of the councilors’ vehicles. He argued the enforcement occurred despite instructions from the Office of the Vice Mayor to park temporarily along the Yutivo side of City Hall. In a subsequent news report, Alcover explained (partly in Cebuano) that he went live to protest what he claimed was an unjust enforcement action.
Alcover maintained that councilors were issued vehicle passes and advised to use the Yutivo side after their usual parking area near the legislative building was occupied for Santo Niño activities. However, the CCTO clarified in a statement that “parking privileges apply only to properly identified vehicles.” The agency stressed that Sinulog stickers serve as vehicle passes, not parking permits. “It would be difficult, if not impossible, to determine ownership of unmarked and unattended private vehicles,” the statement added.
CCTO Chief Arce stated the operation was conducted without intent to offend city officials; it was solely meant to enforce traffic regulations and respond to official complaints during the heightened congestion of the Sinulog season. For his part, Councilor Pepito, who sits on the Traffic Management Board (TMC), later said the issue was “not a big deal” but had become controversial due to a “communication gap” within City Hall.
Ironically, the clamping of officials’ vehicles could have been a rare victory for credibility in local governance — a visible reminder that authority does not come with exemptions. By protesting, these officials turned a moment of fairness into a spectacle of arrogance. With Alcover taking up the cudgels for his colleagues, the episode became a textbook case of an institutional “self-own.”
While city officials were afforded parking privileges during the fiesta, their constituents could only sigh at the chronic shortage of parking spaces that plagues the city even in normal times. As responsible officials, they should know that clamping is not an act of spite; it is an act of policy enforcement. “No-parking zones” are created by ordinances passed by the City Council itself. When a councilor complains about the enforcement of these rules — especially when the violators are colleagues — it sends a troubling message: the law is good for the governed, but inconvenient for those who govern.
Even worse, the complaint was aired publicly, transforming what could have been a private inquiry into a public assertion of entitlement. When an elected official protests enforcement rather than questioning why the violation occurred, the subtext is clear: “We should be exempt.”
This is where the humor turns sour. The public has endured clamping, towing, tickets and fines without fanfare; no officials rushed to their defense. When a councilor reacts differently because the affected parties sit in the same legislative chamber, the double standard is too glaring to ignore. The incident reinforces a persistent public suspicion: that some officials see ordinances as aspirational guidelines rather than binding rules.
Traffic rules are among the most basic expressions of order in a city. They are painted in yellow, written on signs and understood by every ordinary motorist who has ever been fined or towed. When public officials violate these rules and then complain, they are not asserting rights — they are asserting privilege.
If a lack of parking is the problem, it should be solved through planning, not special treatment. If enforcement is harsh, make it more humane — but make it equal. Leniency should not be demanded simply because one’s name appears in a government directory.
In a city choking on traffic and cynicism, the public is no longer amused by selective obedience. Leadership is not measured by the ability to complain, but by the humility to follow the law. In the end, the clamp did more than immobilize a vehicle; it exposed a mindset. The clamps did not insult public office — the complaints did. The real takeaway is that the rule of law is tested not when it is popular, but when it applies to those who wrote it.
(Note: For transparency’s sake, I sit on the TMC Board)