“Ako karon, mangaliyupo ninyo (I now plead of you). In the name of God, I beg you, repent, face the truth, take responsibility, and return what is not yours,” were the words of appeal of Cebu Archbishop Abet Uy during the Trillion Peso March on Sunday, Nov. 30, 2025. While he did not name names, he was apparently referring to those elected government officials and government contractors who have squandered our public coffers.
Archbishop Uy led the Trillion Peso March rally in Cebu City on Sunday that coincided with the day of Hero Gat Andres Bonifacio. Uy’s counterpart in Manila also held a similar rally with the same purpose: calling for the arrest and prosecution of those responsible in the trillion-corruption of government projects and for them to return the money.
Caritas Philippines president Bishop Jose Colin Bagaforo, in an interview, said this only shows that many are one with their call for transparency and accountability.
“I was really expecting a lesser number as to last Sept. 21 as there were simultaneous rallies done in other dioceses,” Bagaforo said. “Many have heard our call... many are awakened by the truth. The entire Philippines is angry with corruption,” he added.
This second Trillion Peso March has not only stirred national conversation because of its size, but because of what it symbolizes. Whether the number is literal or magnified it does not matter at all. What matters is that the term has captured the public imagination — and in doing so, it has exposed the depth of our collective frustration.
In truth, people, like my friends Randy, Rene and their families, do not leave their homes, rearrange their schedules, walk and stand for hours under the sun unless they believe something fundamental is wrong. The march was not merely a protest. It was a statement.
The demand for accountability from our elected and public officials was the core of these trillion marches. Citizens are sending a message that the usual mechanisms — investigations, committees, and oversight bodies — are no longer enough. Many feel that these institutions have become predictable rituals: loud at the start, dramatic in the middle, and inconclusive in the end. The march is the public’s way of saying: We are tired of circular processes that go nowhere.
It is also a rejection of political circus. People have grown weary of grandstanding, selective outrage and press conferences that promise transparency but deliver very little, if not none. We are no longer satisfied with narratives crafted to protect political interests. We want evidence, action and consequences regardless of who is involved.
But perhaps the most important meaning of the march is what it reveals of our Filipino spirit: a re-awakening of civic power. For years, many have felt that corruption and mismanagement were inevitable parts of our political landscape. The trillion march proves that resignation is not the default state of the Filipino. When pushed far enough, the public will not remain silent. They will gather, they will speak, they will march. Public officials would be wise to view this demonstration not as a threat, but as a warning. A democracy can withstand many things — economic hardship, political rivalries, even polarized discourse. What it cannot endure is a loss of trust in its institutions. When people feel that the system cannot or will not correct itself, they will take it upon themselves to demand correction.
That is the real meaning of the trillion marches. It is not about numbers. It is about us insisting that government must be worthy of the taxes we pay, the laws we observe and follow and the trust we extend. It is a reminder that in a democracy, authority is borrowed — and it can just as easily be withdrawn.
If those in power do not understand this message, the public will not hesitate to repeat it, louder each time.