The next arena
Think of 81 provinces, 140 cities, 1,494 municipalities and 42,026 villages. Think that every day, thievery is going on in all these geopolitical subdivisions. Janet Lim Napoles may yet come out as a drop in the bucket.
Following the PDAF and the DAP scandals that laid bare the framework of official thievery in government, what should logically come next? It should be interesting for the Commission on Audit (COA) to focus on the local government units (LGUs).
We put our stamp of approval on the local public servant as a public thief whenever we reelect him/her into office. There is currently widespread discussion among the people in the streets about the pork barrel scandals. After its so-called abolition by Malacañang (we know it has not really been abolished, come on!), it has been said that running for Congress and the Senate will no longer be a lucrative option for politicians. This easily leads to the view that the LGUs will be left as the greenest pasture for thieves of public funds. And so, it might come to pass that in 2016 we will see a mad scramble for local positions.
One of the greatest hypocrisies in government is the public bidding system in LGUs. In a nation of acronyms, not many of us are aware of PhilGEPS—the Philippine Government Electronic Procurement System. It is an online portal introduced as a pilot project in November 2000 through Executive Order No. 322, pursuant to the Government Procurement Act of 2003. An online site states that “by utilizing the accessibility of the Internet, the system was established with the assistance of the Canadian International Development Agency (Cida) as a common portal for the registration of suppliers and advertisements of bid opportunities.” All government entities are mandated to advertise in PhilGEPS all scheduled biddings of public works projects. It requires all government requirements—from goods to consulting services to civil works—to be centrally posted through an Internet infrastructure.
All suppliers, manufacturers, contractors, consultants are required to register with PhilGEPS as well. All transactions are provided online. The same site states as well: “Information on changes in terms of references, bid schedules and on the winning bidder and contract amount (is) all accessible through the system. In addition, the electronic catalogue, which provides information on pre-approved cost of commonly used items, will help government auditors check that supplies purchased by a government agency are not grossly overpriced.”
Before the enactment of this law, government bids for goods and consulting services costing P2 million and above, and for civil works worth P5 million and above, were required to be advertised in two newspapers of general circulation. With PhilGEPS, only one advertisement in a newspaper of general circulation is required, but the bid is required to be posted online continuously for seven calendar days.
The system is designed “to improve transparency, efficiency and value for money.” Wow, are we in reverie?
More than a decade after its implementation, public biddings still remain “lutong Macao” (certainly no offense meant to the Macanese). Despite PhilGEPS, many public works projects are initiated even before a bidding is held. Usually, a mock bidding is acted out after construction work on a project has begun. But the winning bidder had long been determined, usually a political supporter who needs to be paid back for his support in the past. Losing bidders are paid to keep their silence.
PhilGEPS has not effectively minimized corruption in LGUs. Why would a mayor or governor avoid or rig the bidding? That is a rhetorical question for us, but it should not be for COA Chair Grace Pulido Tan.
If the COA so decides to look into LGUs as the next arena in the fight against corruption or corrupt public officials, the Filipino public should better brace itself for the discovery of the thousand and one ways of “hocus pocus” being employed in government thievery, and for the realization of how ingenious our public servants have become at fattening their pockets and bloating their egos.
In a southern Philippine city, councilors are up in arms over the newly elected mayor, a former policeman who happens not to be a party mate. The mayor had stumbled upon the councilors’ long-held practice by which each of them rake in a profitable income through the use of ghost employees. Public service has become a game of charades.
Recently, a utilities company wanted to invest in a local water system of a municipality. Any investor goes through a feasibility study. Just for the approval to conduct a feasibility study—the project has not even begun—the members of the local municipal council and the municipal administrator asked for advance “financial rewards.” A “gift” was given to the administrator, with the understanding that he would share it with the councilors. He never did. Now, war is brewing. We have all kinds of thieves in local government, and Ali Baba and his 40 thieves are no match—in number or in brazenness—to them.
Putting thieving local government executives to shame may not be enough. How about throwing them into the sea with millstones tied to their necks? Indeed, the PDAF scandal is just the tip of the iceberg.
