YEARNING, as defined by Merriam-Webster, is a tender yet urgent longing. It is that deep, sometimes overwhelming pull toward something that often feels slightly out of reach. It lingers in emotions, sometimes soft and almost beautiful, other times painful, especially when it comes from what is missing, lost, or never fully realized.

     I, too, yearn for something. It is not a person, not a memory, not even a missed chance, but a form of governance that does not feel hopeless. A system where accountability is not just a line in speeches or hearings, but something real, consistent, and felt by the very people tasked to uphold it.

     And maybe that is where yearning becomes heavier. Not just in wanting change, but in watching how the very institutions meant to deliver it seem to delay it instead.

     I suspect many Filipinos feel the same way.

     Because our hope for a better country has been tested repeatedly by the systems that are supposed to respond to it, and this tension becomes even more visible in the Senate’s role as the impeachment court for Vice President Sara Duterte, where the Senate is expected to embody utmost neutrality and accountability at its highest constitutional level. Yet even before any decisive voting or formal resolution of the case, the atmosphere inside the institution already reflects the same contradictions it is meant to resolve.

     Just last May 11, the new Senate leadership seemed to protect Senator Ronald “Bato” dela Rosa, and Sen. Robin Padilla defended his ally, insisting that Sen. Bato is not a criminal despite the issuance of a warrant of arrest from the International Criminal Court for alleged crimes against humanity related to the Duterte administration’s drug war. 

     According to Senate records, Sen. Bato dela Rosa was absent for 31 days during the 20th Congress’ first regular session. The absences were recorded from July 28, 2025, to March 18, 2026, during which there were 58 session days. Since November 11, 2025, Dela Rosa has not attended any Senate sessions until his sudden appearance last May. During that session on May 11, senators voted to remove Sen. Vicente “Tito Sotto” III as Senate President and elect Sen. Alan Peter Cayetano in his place. Dela Rosa, who had been absent from Senate activities for months, showed up and participated in the proceedings. In an interview with Jessica Soho, Dela Rosa himself admitted that he attended the session because he was needed as the 13th vote to change the Senate leadership.

     In moments like this, the line between loyalty to the people they are supposed to  serve and loyalty to who they preach becomes far blurrier. 

     It is indeed one thing to long for justice, and another to watch how quickly it can be softened, delayed, or reframed when it begins to touch people in power. During certain moments in history, the Senate has served as a safe space for lawmakers facing serious criminal allegations outside its walls, allowing them to retain their seats despite ongoing legal cases. 

     According to the reports of the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism (PCIJ), almost all members of the current chamber have faced charges or investigations whether at the Ombudsman, the Sandiganbayan, the justice department, various courts, the Securities and Exchange Commission, and now, including the ICC.

      Ladies and gentlemen, these are the people who should be the instruments of justice and fairness. Let that sink in.

     At the end of the day, corruption is not the greatest danger but rather the way Filipinos tolerate and slowly learn to live with it. When we begin to treat these anomalies as normal, when loyalty matters more than truth, and when accountability becomes selective, we risk losing more than just trust in government, but also our sense of national responsibility. Democracy was never meant to survive on silence, blind allegiance, or performative patriotism, it survives when people choose to question, to remember, and to demand better even when institutions refuse to move.

     We cannot keep romanticizing resilience while excusing the systems that force Filipinos to suffer in the first place. So no, this is no longer just about political colors, personalities, or alliances. It is about whether we still have the courage to stand for what is right even when those in power refuse to. The moment we stop demanding accountability is the moment we allow injustice to settle comfortably into our institutions. 

     And perhaps the most dangerous men are not only the ones who cannot be moved, but the citizens who no longer try to move them at all.