| Photo by Elaine J.E. Degale
The Rise of the Trillion Peso March
When I joined the Trillion Peso March on EDSA last September 21—exactly 53 years after Ferdinand Marcos Sr. declared Martial Law, and curiously the same day Charlie Kirk’s funeral was held—it felt like history folding in on itself. A political era obsessed with “making governments great again” was being forced to face its own mirror, one stained by corruption so deep it had become infrastructure. For once, the old rhetoric of strongmen and saviors was no longer echoing unchallenged. It was being confronted—out loud, in public, and squarely within the crosshairs of justice.
Then came November 30: Bonifacio Day, a holiday named after Andrés Bonifacio, who is known as the “Father of the Philippine Revolution”. You can’t pick a more fitting date to protest corruption. Andrés Bonifacio, after all, was the working-class revolutionary who proved that you don’t need elitist credentials to challenge power—you need guts, grit, and a reeling disposition against oppression. Bonifacio led the Katipunan, launched the revolution against Spain, and would probably be side-eyeing today’s dynasties with the same energy Filipinos now direct at overpriced flood-control projects.
The global anti-corruption protest on Bonifacio day comes just days after former DPWH engineer Henry Alcantara — who admitted under oath during Senate hearings that he took part in alleged irregular and ‘ghost’ infrastructure projects — returned ₱110 million (about $1.9 million) in kickbacks to the government. Justice officials said Alcantara has also committed to turning over additional funds pending restitution orders as the flood-control corruption investigation continues.
The Diaspora Joins the Fight: A Global Protest Movement Takes Shape
What distinguishes this moment from past anti-corruption campaigns is the breadth, discipline, and conviction of the Filipino diaspora, who have transformed the Trillion Peso March into a global phenomenon known as the KBKK (Kilusang Bayan Kontra Kurakot), the People’s Movement Against Corruption, a coalition of civic, church, youth, labor, community, and migrant groups demanding systemic accountability for large scale government corruption.
The global Filipino diaspora has become an increasingly visible force in political advocacy, challenging government abuses at home from communities abroad. At the center of this movement is KBKKActive in the Philippines and across the diaspora. KBKK mobilizes mass actions calling for transparency, the prosecution of corrupt officials, and the return of public funds stolen through infrastructure and public service projects. These protests—often sparked by corruption, human rights violations, and state neglect—have been amplified globally by organizations such as the Malaya Movement, BAYAN USA, and Migrante UK, which stage demonstrations in city centers around the world.
From EDSA to Little Manila: The Voice of the People
On Bonifacio Day, November 30, the streets of the Philippines filled once again with a familiar sound: Makibaka! – “Fight!” “Huwag matakot! – “Don’t be afraid!” echoing the same battlecry of the Filipino youth-led movement against the fascist Marcos dictatorship in the 1970s-1980s.
From the Mabuhay mural in Little Manila, painted by the grassroots collective Little Manila Queens Bayanihan Arts (LMQBA), student-led groups chanted in defense of a Filipino future stolen by corruption. Their message echoed a painful truth: billions of dollars in remittances—generated through Filipino sacrifice abroad and now sustaining nearly 9 percent of the Philippines’ GDP—have become a Filipino lifeline only because grifters in government have stripped the nation of opportunities at home. When public officials plunder infrastructure budgets and shrink social services to the point that ordinary Filipinos must leave their children and chase financial stability overseas, corruption becomes more than theft—it becomes the state-sponsored architect of forced family separation and Filipino exploitation.
“Authoritarians always test the waters with the people they think matter least. Once they get away with cruelty, they march further on in their quest for power.”
The Little Manila protest marched from the Mabuhay mural on 69th and Roosevelt to Woodside Avenue Memorial in Queens, New York where groups from the diaspora converged and shared their demands to the current Philippine administration. Groups included, Malaya, Kabataan Alliance, Bayan USA, Migrante New York Committee for Human Rights in the Philippines, Barkada NYC, Gabriela USA, and independent local community organizations of Colombian American and Puerto Rican descent. Students arrived to New York as far as Philadelphia to show support. A female representative of Migrante New York declared that “Kung kaya natin ang twelve hours na trabaho para sa pamilya, kaya din natin tumayo, magsalita, at kumilos para sa isang gobyernong may prinsipyo. Kung kaya natin ipagtanggol ang ating karapatan dito sa banyagang bansa, mas kaya natin ipagtanggol ang ating karapatan at ang katotohanan para sa ating bansa.”(If we can work twelve hours a day for our families, then we can also stand up, speak out, and take action for a government with principles. If we can defend our rights in a foreign country, then we should be even more willing to defend our rights and the truth for our own nation.)
Meanwhile, in the United States, Americans are watching a government speak about migrants with all the empathy of a border wall. When a sitting president casually says of Somali immigrants, “I don’t want them in our country,” and orders them to “go back to where they came from,” it’s not just racism—it’s a preview. Authoritarians always test the waters with the people they think matter least. Once they get away with cruelty, they march further on in their quest for power.
If America thinks it’s immune, it should ask the Philippines how that worked out. We learned the hard way that leaders who treat the constitution as optional don’t retire—they metastasize and recur like the Marcos dynasty. And the only antidote we’ve ever found is people willing to confront them before they steal not just power, but the country itself.
And somehow, even with this level of intergenerational, global pushback, the Marcos cancer keeps coming back. Does America want the same cancer in the form of Trump?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Elaine Joy Edaya Degale is a Black-Filipina writer and lecturer at community colleges within the City University of New York (CUNY) and has an Ed.M. and M.A. from Teachers College, Columbia University.
She graduated cum laude from Mount Holyoke College, where she studied International Relations and Development, and continues to support literacy and food programming efforts in Indigenous communities through her Community-Based organization, OperationMerienda.org
