[Edgewise] ‘Public School Confidential’

Apparently, VP Sara spent the confidential funds to deploy an army of secret agents — like Andy Lim and Mary Grace Piattos — to the country's 47,831 public schools. That’s a lot of schools, and a lot of operatives. I came to the sobering conclusion while following the impeachment trial of Vice President Sara Duterte that I’m an inferior being compared with sibling-senators Alan and Pia Cayetano. And that’s not even counting the jedi of jurisprudence Senator Rodante Marcoleta, who somehow pulled off the near-impossible feat of indicting himself. Time to get a masterclass in courtroom confrontation, I thought, from my friend the legal eagle Attorney Manny Obra. He’s founding partner of Obra & Cadabra Law Group (“We Make the Charges Disappear”). In his younger days in the States, Manny was a mail clerk for Perry Mason. He hasn’t budged from his rented cubicle on T. Pinpin Street near Escolta in Binondo. Terni, is VP Sara Duterte in a pickle? I asked. Is her defense team on the ropes? “Asked and answered,” Manny blurted, spewing tiny bits of his pan de sal-and-sardine lunch. “Her team better shape up. She may not know how to use a computer, but she can throw a mean MacBook. They already screwed up on the charge that she put out a contract on President BBM and family, even though she’s prima facie innocent.” How so? “Okay, it’s true she publicly said she has a husband. Her husband has a mistress. She can hire a killer for 5,000 pesos to…” There! Didn’t she incriminate herself by saying she could order a contract killing if she wanted to? “Hold it, not so fast. Sure, she said it motu proprio—Latin for ‘on one’s own accord.’ But I ask you: Is PBBM her husband?” No…but they had a relationship. “A political relationship. Not a carnal one, if I may deduce her proclivity. And even if PBBM always claims public service is his demanding mistress — or salus populi suprema lex esto — their stormy divorce was entirely metaphorical. Her so-called death threat was merely an innocent, if passionate, literary conceit. De minimis non curat lex.” Amazing, Manny! That’s a sophisticatedly elaborate argument worthy of the distinguished Ateneo Law graduate Sen. Alan Peter Cayetano! But what do mini-skirts have to do with it?” “Ahh, de minimis means ‘the law does not concern itself with trifles.’ The defense should try harder to convince the impeachment court that the death-threat charge is ridiculous. Unfortunately, her team doesn’t have the years of illustrious litigation experience as yours truly.” Well, are they doing any better on the confidential funds brouhaha? Can they prove she didn’t siphon off P612.5 million in OVP and DepEd public funds—including P125 million in just eleven days—all without proper receipts? “If I were on the defense, I’d call to the witness stand my private detective on retainer Persistio Bongcal, P.I. who was an office boy for Sam Spade, Philip Marlowe, and later Mike Hammer in the U.S. Definitely the expert on cloak-and-dagger confidential stuff.” Army of secret agents Manny buzzed Bongcal, who shuffled in with a cigarette dangling from his lips. “Percy, tell my friend here what you dug up on VP Sara’s confidential spending.” “Yeah? Who’s asking?” Percy shot me a dirty look that made me want to take a shower. “Listen, buddy. Here’s the lowdown. VP Sara’s a high-class dame. She kept her inside men in nice digs, with three squares and enough drinks to sink a battleship while they sniffed out every bad egg in the schools. See?” Apparently, VP Sara spent the confidential funds to deploy an army of secret agents — like Andy Lim and Mary Grace Piattos — to the country’s 47,831 public schools. That’s a lot of schools, and a lot of operatives. “That’s to finger mule-headed teachers who buck DepEd Order No. 21, Series of 2023. See, they’re not supposed to put up posters that mess up the classrooms, uh-uh,” snarled Percy. But “Mary Grace Piattos” is a dead giveaway alias–everyone would know it’s just a snack brand from a ubiquitous restaurant chain. “Look here, pal,” Percy growled, thumping my chest. “My buddy Senator Bato de la Rosa swears there are Piattos in Davao. Said so to Karen Davila. He’s on the lam, see, and likely cooling it in their roost right now.” Well then, I conceded, VP Sara justifiably pulled out all the stops to quash creeping insubordination among our public school teachers. “You bet. It might be ‘Always have clean and bright teeth’ posters now but commie placards later.” But did her confidential expenses also include payouts to sources who snitch on teachers that sell longganisa and panties to colleagues between classes? “Unfortunately,” Manny butted in, “surveilling teachers who sell longganisa and sundry goods is neither within the purview of DepEd Order No. 21 nor are rewards for that an allowable expense under Joint Circular 2015-1 of the Commission on Audit et alia.” “Besides,” he added, “such cases are obiter dictum—merely heard of in passing and not legally significant.” Obiter dictum? Legally insignificant like the manifestations of Senator-judge Robin Padilla? Or when he irrationally grills a Commission on Audit witness about leftist recruitment in universities? When the DepEd is only in charge of basic-education public schools? “Ah, well,” Attorney Manny sighed, shaking his head, “that’s because Senator Robin hears things through a different orifice. In his case it’s always obiter rectum.” – Rappler.com Rene Ciria-Cruz is a Filipino-American journalist and writer who has worked extensively in U.S. and Filipino media. He served as US bureau chief for Inquirer.net, the official site of the Philippine Daily Inquirer, a major Philippine news outlet. During his tenure he also wrote and edited for other publications and sites including PositivelyFilipino.com and has contributed to U.S. newspapers like the San Francisco Chronicle and San Francisco Examiner as well as magazines such as California Lawyer Magazine and Filipinas Magazine.