Inaaresto ka namin sa salang… ay, nakatulog?

Ay, nakatulog?

Perhaps that is the question Filipinos should be asking whenever a powerful politician suddenly becomes too sick to face the consequences of his alleged actions. And a perfect example this time is former House Speaker Martin Romualdez.

Hours after the Office of the Ombudsman filed a PHP 7.44-billion plunder case against him on September 7 over alleged kickbacks from flood-control and other government projects, the Sandiganbayan issued a warrant for his arrest. And suddenly, Romualdez was in a hospital bed. Not a jail cell, nor in a detention facility, but in a hospital.

Authorities eventually served the warrant at Cardinal Santos Medical Center, where Romualdez was confined. DILG Secretary Jonvic Remulla said doctors diagnosed him with a cardiovascular event, unstable blood pressure, and an anxiety attack. Romualdez is now considered arrested, with authorities securing the hospital where he is being treated.

This scenario is not new to Filipinos—we have seen this several times: a politician faces arrest, and suddenly, weakness sets in. Their hands tremble, their body becomes frail, and the hospital bed becomes a temporary refuge from the handcuffs. It almost seems as if some politicians become sick the moment justice comes knocking.

Remember Senator Rodante Marcoleta, who was confined at the Philippine National Police General Hospital after an arrest warrant for plunder was issued, with doctors citing hypertension, mild pneumonia, and degenerative disc disease? How about former President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, who was once seen using a wheelchair and wearing a neck brace while facing legal cases? And let us not forget the late Juan Ponce Enrile and Senators Jinggoy Estrada and Ramon “Bong” Revilla Jr., who also spent periods under medical or hospital confinement during their legal battles.

Alright, to be fair, being accused of plunder does not magically make a person immune to illness. If Romualdez is genuinely sick, he deserves medical attention. Justice does not mean denying anyone proper healthcare. But let us not pretend that Filipinos are stupid enough not to notice the timing.

The time the warrant comes is also the time the hospital bed follows. And suddenly, the man who once occupied one of the most powerful seats in the country is too fragile for a detention cell but apparently remains at the center of a PHP 7.44-billion scandal. The irony almost writes itself: Inaresto lang tapos biglang nakatulog?

Because while ordinary Filipinos struggle through overcrowded public hospitals, expensive medicine, and long lines just to receive basic healthcare, powerful politicians seem to have another kind of privilege—the kind that comes with private hospital rooms, security personnel, and an arrest warrant being served beside a medical bed.

The irony becomes even harder to swallow when the case itself involves alleged corruption surrounding flood-control projects. These are projects supposedly meant to protect Filipinos from floods. Yet when the floodwaters of accountability finally reached Romualdez, he was behind hospital walls.

Filipinos were left with flooded homes; he was left with a hospital room. Filipinos were left asking where billions of pesos went; he was left under medical observation.

And now, the public is expected to simply say, “Pagaling ka muna.”

No. Get well if you are sick. Recover if you need to. But once you are medically capable of facing the proceedings, face them.

Romualdez remains entitled to due process and the presumption of innocence. The allegations against him are not yet a final judgment of guilt. But due process should never be twisted into a privilege to escape accountability. Being sick does not erase a case. Being powerful does not erase a warrant. And being inside a hospital does not make the law disappear.

What Filipinos should fear is not merely another corruption case. It is the normalization of the idea that accountability can be delayed whenever the accused happens to have enough influence, money, or access to powerful institutions.

Justice should not have to compete with political connections. It should not have to wait for someone's blood pressure to stabilize. It should not have to knock twice before it is allowed through the door.

For once, let the law finish what it started.

Rest if you must, Romualdez. Recover if you must. But when you wake up, wake up to justice.

Because while the powerful may have the privilege of sleeping through accountability, ordinary Filipinos do not. They are wide awake—awake to the floods, the poverty, the broken promises, and the billions of pesos that should have protected them. They have been awake long enough. Now, it is time for those in power to wake up to the consequences of their actions.

You may have a hospital bed today, Romualdez. But no hospital bed should become a hiding place from the law.