Dead meat

By the all the rules of the political game, Sara Zimmerman Duterte should by now be damaged goods; dead meat. Or the pariah of Philippine politics. And ousted pronto as vice president, never to be allowed to hold any public office, elective or appointive, ever again.

Instead, the Vice President continues to gallivant abroad, immune from the vagaries of impeachment shame at home.

She still gets invited as a guest of honor and speaker in some decent conferences of businessmen locally. During such events, she invariably denounces the Marcos Jr. government and offers herself as the solution to any and all major problems of ordinary Filipinos – inflation, high prices, high energy prices and shortages, massive corruption and equally massive sense of immunity of those in power. Like her.

Propping Sara up immensely are so-called surveys of trust, approval and presidential preferences ratings expressed by some 1,200 respondents, supposedly representing 117 million Filipinos. The margins of errors of such polls range from 3.8 percent to 6.0 percentage points – percentages that do not give 95 percent of ordinary Filipinos confidence about their reliability. Or truthfulness.

In one survey, Leni Robredo is only nine percentage points behind Sara Duterte in a simulated presidential race. If Sara is ahead by nine points and the margin of error is six points – isn’t that garbage? Because if you are a frontrunner and you lead by just three points (nine minus the margin of error of six), that’s practically a tie. Sara cannot be considered the sure winner in the May 2028 presidential elections.

My suspicion is that the various survey companies use the same base of respondents provided by the same supplier or contractor of instant respondents.

You know, it’s expensive and nearly impossible to get a reliable pool of respondents of 1,200 people representing the entire population of Filipino adults. You probably need to interview up to 10,000 people scattered in 50 major cities, 100 provinces, in the three major regions, within two weeks or more, to get reliable findings or opinions.

Unless you are an aide of Sara Duterte who delivers hundreds of millions to 30 different places, north to south of the Philippines, in one day. Sara’s people can deliver P125 million of confidential and intelligence funds to thousands of recipients nationwide in just 11 hours. Sara and husband Manases, in fact, can withdraw P41 million from two banks in less than an hour.

For instance, a pollster who wants to interview two people to represent the entire population of Alabang, south of Manila, will need to drive two hours and spend five hours to interview 20 people – representing two respondents and one whole town.

VP Sara is guilty as hell.

Yes, she threatened to kill President Marcos Jr., the First Lady and the former speaker. There are videos to prove grave threats. Yes, she pocketed P612.5 million of our tax money as confidential and intelligence funds and produced 5,000 fake receipts to justify the plunder. Names of alleged recipients are weird, funny and out of this world – like two people named after a vagina. Yes, she regularly bribed her subalterns at the DepEd with cash envelops to make them malleable during biddings.

And yes, she made many omissions and committed lies in her annual statements of assets, liabilities and net worth (SALNs), yearly, habitually and with breathtaking impunity.

Renato Corona was impeached and removed as chief justice in 2011 because he made the mistake of not disclosing his dollar deposits in his SALN. Yet, dollar deposits are secret. They should not be revealed. Maria Lourdes Sereno was removed as the 24th chief justice in 2018, her appointment illegal from the start, for failing disclosure requirements in her SALNs.

In Sara’s SALN omissions and lies, the evidence is overwhelming.

SALN is required of public officials, elected or appointed, to measure their trustworthiness, their fitness to hold public office, their honesty and whether they enriched themselves using their positions.

Failure to list real estate property, funds or financial assets in the SALN simply means one thing – the wealth is unexplained. Unexplained wealth is, by law, subject to seizure, because it is ill-gotten or illegally acquired. Sara and husband Manases Carpio earned P85 million jointly from 2007 to 2025. Yet, they were found to have wealth of P1.5 billion. An intel operative told me Sara’s cash hoard is P6 (SIX) billion.

Sara and Mans, both lawyers and both required by law to be covered by SALN truthful disclosures, declared zero cash balances in banks. Anti-Money Laundering Council records say so.

In the few instances she admitted to having cash, the money was only 10 percent of her actual money stash.

In the years, she declared NO cash balances as VP, Sara had in her banks these cash balances: P8.72 million in end-2022, P11.92 million in 2023,P8.53 million in 2024 and P12.18 million in 2025. Manases had these cash balances: P41.55 million in end-2022, P49.2 million in 2023, P13.43 million in 2024 and P28.41 million in 2025. Total cash in banks: P174 million. Declared in their SALNs as cash balance: ZERO.

As vice president, Sara is not allowed by the Constitution to engage in business or own businesses. Yet, she has GenCorp, Cale88, Metro City Chow, insurance policies, income generating investments and contracts with the Davao City LGU whose mayor is her brother. She also received P319 million from Chinese state-owned entities. Is that payola or loyalty money for an act of treason? Or for being in the pockets of drug lords?

Sara’s answer to all the incriminating violations of the Constitution and the laws against graft and corruption of public officials. Two answers: one, ‘I don’t know’ and two, ‘I don’t know.’

When asked about Pax Silica recently, she betrayed the same ‘I don’t know’ wisdom.

‘If she doesn’t know,’ asks prosecution lawyer Lorna Kapunan, ‘what does she know?’

Kill people, perhaps?

Qualified on paper, unprepared for work

For a young graduate, the walk from the lecture room to the workplace can feel like the final step towards economic independence. But for many, it is where another test begins, one that is rarely written on an examination paper: can they do the job?

A degree, diploma or certificate may open the door to an interview. But it does not necessarily mean the person entering the workplace can operate a machine, diagnose a fault, serve a customer, interpret production data or deliver a service to the required standard.

That gap is increasingly becoming a business problem, not just an education problem.

Uganda’s labour market shows the scale of the challenge.

According to the 2025 Labour Market Survey by the Uganda Bureau of Statistics, Uganda’s national unemployment rate among people aged 15 years and above who are in the labour force stands at 12.2 percent. In comparison, the unemployment rate among young people aged 15-24 years in the labour force is higher, at 17.9 percent.

Youth unemployment was higher among females at 21 percent, compared to 15.2 percent among males. The survey also found that 42.6 percent of young people aged 15 to 24, equivalent to about 4 million people, were not in employment, education or training (NEET).

But unemployment is only one side of the problem. On the other side are employers who need people who can actually perform.

Research presented during a dialogue on work-based learning points to an uncomfortable contradiction: people can spend years acquiring qualifications and still require substantial workplace training before they become productive.

For businesses, that can mean additional recruitment costs, supervision, lower productivity, mistakes and time spent bringing new employees up to speed. For young people, it can mean remaining outside the labour market despite possessing certificates that suggest they are qualified.

This disconnect between being qualified and being able to perform is putting work-based learning at the centre of Uganda’s skills debate.

The missing classroom is the workplace

Dr Joseph Muvawala, the executive director of the National Planning Authority, argues that Uganda must stop treating the classroom as the only legitimate source of competence.

‘Over 70 percent of our competent workers are not coming from a formal setting. We should accept it as the biggest delivery window for skills in this country,’ Dr Muvawala said.

His argument is reflected in ordinary economic life. A customer rarely asks a mechanic which university awarded their qualification before handing over a vehicle. What matters is whether the mechanic can identify the fault and repair the car.

Dr Muvawala says his own career shows how workplace exposure can turn theoretical knowledge into usable expertise. He recalled joining the Works Ministry in 1996 as a messenger and later working alongside a transport economist who taught him through practical assignments.

He was sent to roads to count vehicles, identify vehicle types and study traffic movements. What initially appeared to be routine counting gradually introduced him to concepts such as road demand, axle loads and traffic management.

‘I have never gone to any classroom to become a transport economist,’ he said.

For businesses, the lesson is simple: competence is often built by repeatedly applying knowledge to real problems under the guidance of experienced workers.

But in Uganda, much of this learning remains informal, inconsistent or poorly regulated.

Dr Muvawala warned that internships can easily become another missed opportunity if trainees are reduced to running errands instead of being given defined learning tasks.

‘Do not send people for internship without setting a framework of what should happen,’ he said, arguing that institutions should have clear workloads, mentors, assessors and expected competencies for trainees.

The National Apprenticeship Programme is designed around structured employment-based learning and work readiness, combining workplace and off-the-job learning and ending in assessment and certification.

The challenge is turning such programmes from initiatives on paper into a system businesses can use.

A fragmented system has a cost

Christine Arach Alum, a research fellow at the Economic Policy Research Centre, says Uganda does not necessarily lack institutions or initiatives. The bigger problem is that many of them operate without enough coordination.

‘Work-based learning is happening, but the ecosystem is fragmented. So we need stronger coordination,’ Ms Arach Alum said.

She argues that institutions such as the TVET Council and the National Employment Council could play a stronger coordinating role by bringing together government, training institutions and employers.

This matters because a company cannot train when it is unclear what a trainee is expected to learn, how progress should be measured or who is responsible for assessing the outcome.

Ms Arach Alum says structured agreements between training institutions and businesses could help secure placement opportunities, while standardised workbooks and curricula could reduce the supervisory burden on companies.

A large manufacturer may have a human resources department, supervisors and equipment that can accommodate trainees.

A small restaurant, workshop or retail business may have none of these. Taking on a trainee can, therefore, mean taking an experienced worker away from revenue-generating work to provide supervision.

Unless the system recognises that cost, businesses may understandably prefer an experienced employee to an apprentice who still needs supervision.

The result is a cycle that is difficult to break: Employers demand experience, young people cannot get experience without employers, and businesses remain reluctant to bear the cost of providing it.

Skills and budget

Ramathan Ggoobi, the Permanent Secretary at the Finance Ministry, says the issue has moved beyond employability to whether public spending is producing measurable economic returns.

Research he cited from industrial parks found that two-thirds of production workers surveyed were skilled, while 23 percent were unskilled and 11 percent semi-skilled.

But the more revealing finding was that 50 percent of surveyed firms reported that even workers considered skilled could not perform tasks at the required level.

That distinction is important for businesses.

‘The problem of Uganda is that we have the industry, but the people are not skilled. We found that two thirds of the production workers employed by the surveyed firms were skilled workers,’ Mr Ggoobi said.

‘When asked whether these firms faced problems where staff could not implement tasks due to insufficient proficiency, 50 percent of the surveyed firms answered in the affirmative. They said even those who were skilled could not do the work they needed to be skilled for.’

Uganda’s skills challenge is not simply about producing more graduates. It is about producing workers whose capabilities match actual production needs.

Mr Ggoobi says this must also change how the government designs and funds interventions.

‘The government will not fund interventions which don’t create jobs,’ he said, adding that programmes will be measured by the number and quality of jobs they create.

Mr Ggoobi also argues that employers should have a greater say in training curricula because businesses understand where demand is heading.

‘Why don’t you ask the people who are doing the work in the industry, in the services? They should inform the programme,’ he said.

That could make training more responsive to sectors where technology, production methods and customer expectations are changing faster than classroom curricula.

The real test is whether someone can do the work.

Amazing, admirable, accomplished Abunda

TOP talk show host Boy Abunda is in a league of his own.

The well-loved Abunda possesses a unique gift of gab that makes him a highly-regarded TV program host for many decades now. His exceptional ability to run a talk show in such a confident way that grabs the attention and holds the mind of the audience has won him numerous awards because of this exemplary gift.

It has been said that real speaking confidence comes from being able to communicate clearly, persuasively, concisely, and with great influence, making sure that what one is saying makes a dent or a difference. Years of experience and continuous practice has also allowed Abunda to master his hosting skills competently, combining this with natural charisma, thorough preparation and emotional intelligence.

I reckon that Abunda’s gift of gab is more than his being a true conversationalist. It goes beyond putting himself on the line when he comes face to face with his show’s subjects and guests. Abunda is a listener, the kind of listening that means he truly hears what his guests have to say.

He has also mastered the art of audience connection. I know for a fact that Abunda reads a lot. He makes sure that he is always up to date with his subjects before he goes to the studio to do his interviews, helping him transition smoothly across unexpected interview topics.

It also enables him to connect genuinely and allows him to ask more insightful, human-centered questions. This public empathy transforms ordinary talk into powerful, human-centric connections, and this is what gives Abunda the big edge over other talk show hosts.

Time and again, Abunda has affirmed that listening is as important as talking. He allows his guests to feel respected and be at their most comfortable, and he makes sure that he does not monopolize the conversations with them. At times when his guests would ramble on, go blank or pause too long, Abunda breaks in with a comment, and immediately leads the conversation in another direction to put the guest back at ease and regain control.

Abunda turns 65 in a few days, and to celebrate this happy milestone, GMA Network will have a special two-part episode for his program Fast Talk on October 28 and 29, featuring Abunda’s dear friend Kris Aquino in a rare TV appearance.

‘This super exclusive one-on-one took more than 11 years in the making, and I’m thankful that Kris said yes. In a taped-as-live session, we talked about almost everything-life, love, her two boys, her health updates, our friendship, politics, money, almost everything because, let’s face it, everything about Kris stirs interest,’ he said, adding that Aquino’s youngest son Bimby Yap also made a special appearance.’

Three years ago, Abunda interviewed Aquino in California at a time when she was delicately facing health challenges, but the interview wasn’t for the show. Because of the two’s unshaken friendship that has lasted for many decades, Aquino trusts Abunda with all her heart and soul, and it was not difficult to get her to say yes for this Abunda birthday special.

The colorful journey of Boy Abunda in the halls of the Philippine entertainment industry stands as a powerful testament of ambition, courage, perseverance, and vision. His success story is not only about reaching the pinnacle of media fame, but also about creating a lasting impact that continually uplifts, empowers and inspires people.

President Marcos orders heightened security for Undas

Anticipating the surge of people heading to the provinces for Undas, Malacañang yesterday directed agencies to intensify security measures and provide assistance to stranded passengers during All Saints’ and All Souls’ Days.

In a statement yesterday, Executive Secretary Ralph Recto said President Marcos wants to ensure enhanced police visibility at transport hubs, ports and other places of convergence by deploying K9 units.

Malacañang ordered the Philippine National Police to intensify patrols, security inspections and other anti-crime measures such as the conduct of random drug testing for public utility vehicle drivers to prevent accidents.

‘The President wants every trip to be safe and assistance should be provided immediately when necessary. A huge number of vehicles is not enough. We have to ensure that passengers are safe,’ Recto said.

He also asked the transportation department to prepare backup vehicles and vessels in case regular trips cannot accommodate passengers.

Flower prices to go up

Prices of flowers at the Dangwa market in Manila remained stable as of yesterday, but are expected to climb from Oct. 31 to Nov. 1.

Lloyd Casyao, president of the Manila Flower Center-Flower Vendors Association, said stocks are still sufficient in shops, but they are expecting more demand as Undas nears.

‘If the supply runs out, flowers priced at P200 might go up to P300 to P350. It depends on the type of flowers and arrangement,’ Casyao said.

According to Casyao, Malaysian chrysantemums and orchids remain the most popular choices for cemetery visits.

He advised customers to purchase flowers a few days before Undas to save on costs when demand increases.

2 million cemetery visitors

As Undas falls on a weekend, Manila North Cemetery director Daniel Tan said they expect around two million visitors this year, up from 1.8 million last year.

At the Manila South Cemetery (MSC) in Makati, caretakers rushed to complete repainting of tombs on the last day of the allowed cleaning period.

MSC director John Mark Mendez said about 23,000 visitors went to the cemetery over the weekend to clean and repaint the tombs of their dead.

‘Last year, we had 500,000 visitors, but we expect the number to increase to between 700,000 and one million this year,’ Mendez told The STAR.

Visitors will be allowed to enter the cemetery from Oct. 29 to Nov. 2, from 5 a.m. to 8 p.m.

Both the Manila North and South cemeteries will prohibit vehicles from entering their premises from Oct. 29 to Nov. 2.

Visitors are also banned from bringing firearms and knives. Smoking, drinking alcohol and gambling are also not allowed. Pets are prohibited inside the cemeteries.

Cemetery officials said Oct. 28 is the last day for interment. Burials will resume on Nov. 3 in both cemeteries.

NAIA passengers

Around 1.25 million passengers are expected to flock to the Ninoy Aquino International Airport terminals from Oct. 27 to Nov. 4.

Airport operator New NAIA Infrastructure Corp. (NNIC) said Oct. 30 is expected to be the busiest day, with about 149,000 travelers passing through the country’s main gateway.

NNIC said it is stepping up preparations for the Undas rush, including round-the-clock operational monitoring, passenger assistance service, heightened security and closer coordination with airlines, ground handlers and transport providers.

What Plato teaches us about workplace dictatorship

University students studying philosophy or political science regularly read the works of one of the most famous ancient Greek philosophers. Around 2,400 years ago, Plato became absolutely fascinated by a particular problem that we still face in our workplaces today that involves when too much power ends up in the hands of the wrong person.

He was part of the great trio of the most prolific Greek philosophers. He studied under Socrates and then later actually taught Aristotle. He founded the famed Academy in Athens which became one of the earliest great centres of higher learning in the Western world. His writings were so impactful that they shaped ethics, leadership, philosophy, and even politics for thousands of years.

While we organisational behaviour researchers often strive to read, implement, and create the latest cutting-edge studies that can better guide business and management professionals, it is sometimes useful to go back in time and visit some of the classics that were way ahead of their time.

In and around 380 BCE, Plato wrote his most famous and influential work called The Republic. Most of the book revolves around the concepts of justice and what makes a society and individuals good. But in Book VIII, he turned his attention to something much darker. He describes in vivid detail how a tyrant gains power, then consolidates power, and then how eventually the dictator becomes trapped by the very same system of fear that they created.

Most people read Book VIII of The Republic with an eye toward political philosophy. One can see online content creators use it to analyse current political shenanigans like Lucas Bean utilising it to widely criticise US President Trump. But we can absolutely turn this ancient piece of pivotal literature into a cautionary tale and advice about our own modern workplaces.

Nearly all of us who have held any type of job across several organisations have eventually encountered a workplace dictator. Such managers do not necessarily shout and scream or even openly think of themselves as authoritarian. Instead, they can at first seem merely highly confident, decisive, and quite charming. The rubber meets the road in the real test that comes when someone beneath them in the entity’s organisation structure hierarchy decides to disagree with them, becomes successful, knows more than they do, or receives praise that the tyrant manager believes should have gone to them.

So, Plato’s first observation about dictators sounds extremely familiar in the modern context. Once the tyrant gets ensconced in power, Plato writes that the tormenter then beings identifying those who are brave, wise, or as Plato also called them, ‘great-souled’. The oppressor must then become their enemy and keep plotting against them until they have purged the whole organisation of all its people of worth. A perfect modern example of a tyrant, though fictional, is Jude Law’s character in the television series The Young Pope.

Think about the worst manager you have ever encountered. Who tends to leave the company first either by force or by choice? It is not the incompetent staff who depart quickly but rather the highly skilled effective worker who bolts for the door by recognising that the new tyrant situation will not work out in the long-term. The ones who get pushed out are because they pose a threat, while the ones who leave by choice are because they exercised their networks and social capital and got out in time.

Researcher Roy Lubit has found something surprisingly close to Plato’s ancient observations. The study examines destructively narcissistic managers and found that their drive for power, outward confidence, and ruthlessness can help them rise in organisations. But eventually, the workplace tyrant boss’s tendency to devalue others and focus on themselves can damage organisational performance and over time drive away some of the firm’s most talented employees.

Secondly, Plato explains that once independent capable people disappear, then the tyrant needs to bring in replacements. He describes followers flocking around the tyrant while the dictator more and more becomes dependent on the sycophants all while the better people hate and avoid him at all costs. We see something similar happening politically in Washington D.C. right now. The more objectionable the tyrant’s behaviour becomes, Plato argues, the more they require their loyal followers to be around them. So, dictatorships, whether in politics or in our workplaces, become self-reinforcing.

Third, Plato describes the disturbing reality that people eventually discover that the person they had originally empowered to protect them has instead become the source of much of their oppression. He continues to describe this transition as moving from hope to servitude. The modern workplace version of these political realities occurs when a senior manager may appoint a forceful manager because a particular department needs discipline. While results may improve at first and decisions happen quickly because nobody wastes time debating and the most difficult employees get removed, eventually the definition of ‘difficult employee’ changes from being poor performers to instead those who disagree with the boss. Eventually it comes to mean anybody who is capable of disagreeing with the tyrant. Then organisational performance starts to drop precipitously.

Have you encountered workplace tyrants? How did you respond?

We will continue with this theme in next week’s Business Talk in the Business Daily to unpack steps about how Plato and modern research recommend removing a tyrannical dictator.

Completing the digital trail: Understanding e-invoicing compliance

Gone are the days when keeping up with invoices meant keeping up with piles of paper. The Bureau of Internal Revenue (BIR) continues to embrace digitalization by taking another step toward a more technology-driven tax compliance system through Revenue Memorandum Circular (RMC) 98-2026.

Understanding the key provisions of RMC 98-26 can help businesses prepare for the electronic invoicing requirements and support timely compliance with applicable tax regulations.

Revenue Regulations (RR) 8-2022 first laid down the guidelines for implementing Section 237 of the Tax Code, covering electronic receipts and invoices and the electronic transmission of sales data to the BIR. It also introduced the Electronic Invoicing/Receipting System (EIS), under which covered taxpayers would develop a Sales Data Transmission System capable of transmitting the prescribed sales data.

Following the enactment of the CREATE MORE Act, RR 11-2025 further refined the rules. It requires electronic invoices to contain structured data that can be readily extracted and electronically transmitted to the BIR. It also clarified that an invoice generated by a computerized system but merely printed on paper does not qualify as an electronic invoice if the system cannot electronically report the relevant sales and invoice data. In short, digital creation alone does not make an invoice truly electronic.

RMC 98-26 now draws the line more clearly by identifying the features an invoice must have before it may properly be called ‘electronic.’ Under RMC 98-26, an invoice qualifies as electronic only if three requirements are met. First, it must be generated in a structured electronic format through duly registered, approved or accredited accounting or invoicing software.

Second, it must be issued and transmitted to the customer digitally, for example, by email, online access, QR code, mobile application or web-based platform. Third, its data must be capable of electronic extraction, processing and transmission to the BIR for sales-reporting purposes.

Accordingly, creating an invoice in Microsoft Word, Microsoft Excel, Google Docs, Google Sheets or a similar productivity application does not make it an electronic invoice for tax purposes. A system-generated invoice that is simply printed and handed to the customer likewise falls short if the system cannot issue it electronically to the buyer and report the required sales data electronically to the BIR. A PDF may look digital, but appearances do not satisfy the rules.

The BIR recognizes that electronic invoices may still be printed for reference or record-keeping, including business-to-consumer transactions where electronic transmission is impracticable, inconvenient or impossible, provided that the original invoice was generated and can be issued electronically and the other requirements are satisfied.

Furthermore, RMC 98-26 reiterates the 31 December 2026 deadline for covered taxpayers to comply with the electronic invoicing requirement. These include small, medium and large taxpayers engaged in e-commerce or internet transactions, taxpayers under the Large Taxpayers Service; taxpayers classified as large under the Ease of Paying Taxes Act and RR 8-2024, and taxpayers using a Computerized Accounting System (CAS), a Computerized Books of Accounts with electronic invoicing or other invoicing software. However, micro taxpayers are not covered by the mandate.

It also makes an important distinction between electronic invoicing and electronic sales reporting as separate obligations.

Covered taxpayers must comply with electronic sales reporting only once the BIR issues the implementing policies, guidelines and procedures for that requirement.

RMC 98-26 also introduces important administrative steps. Taxpayers required to issue electronic invoices must first secure a Permit to Issue (PTI) Electronic Invoice from the BIR. The PTI is distinct from the Permit to Use or Acknowledgment Certificate for a CAS, since authority to operate a computerized system does not, by itself, authorize the issuance of electronic invoices. As of writing, no issuance concerning the PTI requirements has yet been published.

Covered taxpayers must also obtain an EIS Certification confirming that their systems can electronically extract, process and transmit sales data in accordance with BIR technical standards. The certification must be secured within six months from the issuance of the PTI. Otherwise, the PTI may be revoked. A Permit to Transmit, meanwhile, becomes relevant only when the BIR notifies or directs taxpayers to comply with electronic sales reporting under Section 237-A.

Digitalization does not remove the basic obligation to issue an invoice. When electronic invoicing is prevented by system downtime, internet connectivity problems, power interruptions, cybersecurity incidents, force majeure, or similar circumstances prevent electronic invoicing, taxpayers must issue a duly authorized manual invoice.

Once the system is restored, these manual invoices must be replaced with corresponding electronic invoices bearing the reference numbers of the manual invoices.

Corrections also require a clear audit trail. An issued electronic invoice cannot simply be deleted, altered or modified. Decreases must be documented through a duly authorized Credit Note/Memo, while increases require a new electronic invoice.

RMC 98-26 therefore makes the direction clear: e-invoicing is not simply about going paperless. It requires a structured, digitally transferable and BIR-ready invoicing environment. With the Dec. 31, 2026 deadline approaching, covered taxpayers should start preparing now, because in digital tax compliance, being system-ready is far better than being caught offline.

Mango Tree test of Arahat Mahinda

Age and a frail heart keep me confined to my home, yet an alert mind keeps me voraciously curious.

Two private TV channels-both epitomising the vulgarity of free-market capitalism-keep me updated on the Sangha mischief in our public square. Pensive in my armchair, far removed from the calibrated, boorish ‘Bana’ at the Satyagraha sit-in at Viharamahadevi Park, my mind drifted into a desperate daydream.

I closed my eyes and wondered: What if? What if the time warp separating antiquity from today’s chaos were ripped open, and Arahat Mahinda Thero himself stepped out of the third century BC and onto the soil of twenty-first-century Sri Lanka?

What if the legendary missionary son of Dharmasoka walked among us today, only to find that his pristine, liberating message of the Buddha had been weaponised, commodified, and reduced to pageantry and ritual, making the cry of ‹Sadhu’ an agitational refrains of hired hooligans?

It was a mind-boggling possibility: the architect of Sinhala Buddhism surveying how a capricious, power-hungry priestly class had traded the profound logic of the Mihintale mango tree for luxury SUVs, political contracts, and televised circuses.

In this mental theater, the ancient sage Arahat Mahinda had come to interrogate, wielding the sharp intellect that once founded a nation to utterly dismantle the pious fraud of its modern guardians.

Arahat Mahinda Thero stood at the Satyagraha protest site. Under a canvas canopy, a group of saffron-clad figures sat in a single row, striking poses of deep, meditative exhaustion for a cluster of television cameras.

This was the grand satyagraha, orchestrated at the behest of a defunct political dynasty whose members are currently adrift, desperate to reclaim their lost turf.

Shrouded in simple, earth-toned robes, my imaginary Arahat Mahinda stepped straight out of the third century BC and into the chaotic theater of this modern political circus.

He had no entourage, no media coordinator to assist him; he walked directly to the enclosure where the main architects of this spectacle sat.

The test

There sat Ulapane Sumangala, adjusting his microphone with practiced ease; Balangoda Kassapa, frantically checking his smartphone under the fold of his robe to see if his latest TikTok live-stream was trending; and Walanhanduwe Dharmaratna, the High Priest of Mihintale, looking noticeably uncomfortable so far from his mountain rock sanctuary and so close to actual public scrutiny.

The trio blinked, squinting through the camera glare. There was something terrifyingly authentic, something fiercely primordial about the visitor that rendered their haughty air of entitlement suddenly very fragile.

Hoping to capture a viral moment of monastic solidarity, Ulapane Sumangala cleared his throat, assumed a pose of pious pain, and bellowed into the microphone: ‘Welcome, Most Venerable Arahath Therun-wahanse, to our sacred struggle!’

The transient political circuses built by greed are nothing more than passing shadows on the ever-changing landscape of time. They do not define our beautiful island, nor can they ever truly compromise the pristine core of the Dhamma. For twenty-three centuries, the true light brought by Arahat Mahinda has endured-not through golden fences, luxurious pageants, or the patronage of powerful politicians, but because the pristine Dhamma resides quietly and immovably within the hearts of ordinary, virtuous people

Sumangala proclaimed, his voice booming through the speakers: ‘We sit here in noble sacrifice to save our nation, our heritage, and our Sasana from the treacherous hands of those who demand accountability and transparency!’

The imaginary Arahat Mahinda looked at the elaborate sound system, the stock of bottled mineral water tucked behind the cushions on which the ‹Satyagrahis› sat, and the fleet of SUVs parked on the roadside behind the marquee.

A faint, razor-sharp smile touched his lips. He did not recite a stanza, nor did he offer a conventional blessing. Instead, he pointed a calm, steady finger toward a large, leafy tree standing nearby.’

‘Monks,’ Arahat Mahinda said, his voice carrying a thunderous, resonant clarity that dwarfed the loudspeakers. ‘What tree is that?’ he intoned.

Monk Walanhanduwe Dharmaratna, recognising the opening lines of the famous logic test that his own monastic perch had on our free-market economy, perked up.

He saw an immediate opportunity to demonstrate his scriptural authority. ‘That, Most Venerable One, is a mango tree.’

‘Are there other mango trees besides this one?’ Arahat Mahinda inquired, his demeanor glistening with sharp, deductive intensity.

Age and a frail heart keep me confined to my home, yet an alert mind keeps me voraciously curious.

‘Yes, Most Venerable Arahath Therun-wahanse,’ Balangoda Kassapa chimed in, eager to display his intellect to his digital followers. ‘There are many other mango trees in this park, and indeed, across the entire island.’

‘And are there trees here that are not mango trees?’ asked Arahat, his voice tightening like a bowstring.

‘Of course, of course!’ Ulapane Sumangala joined the fray, sensing a rhetorical victory. ‘There are Mara trees, Na trees, and many majestic banyans. There are countless trees that are not mango trees.’

Arahat Mahinda paused. A sudden, dramatic silence overwhelmed the entire park. The wind ceased to blow. The birds stopped chirping. Then he leaned forward, his gaze flashing like lightning: ‘Apart from those other mango trees, and the trees that are not mango trees, does this specific mango tree itself remain?›’

‘Naturally, Venerable Sir!’ Monk Walanhanduwe Dharmaratna answered confidently. ‘If you set aside all other mango trees and all non-mango trees, this solitary tree still stands right where it is. It is elementary!’ responded the Mihintale custodian.

Arahat Mahinda’s face hardened, shifting from calm inquisitor to Cosmic Arbiter. ‘An excellent grasp of basic botany. Now, let us apply this same rigorous line of reasoning to the political forest you have planted here today. Tell me, Sumangala, who are the people currently funding, supplying, and cheering for this noble satyagraha of yours?’

Sumangala puffed out his chest, adopting a fiercely theatrical posture. ‘These are the righteous guardians of the old order, Sir! The visionary leaders who built great expressways, the generous patrons who gave us unchecked power, and the elite statesmen currently unjustly sidelined by the ungrateful masses!’

‘I see,’ Arahat Mahinda, the Ashokan envoy, replied smoothly, his tone dripping with sarcasm. ‘And are there other corrupt, discredited politicians in this country besides the ones who paid for your tents, your cheer squads, and your ears today?’

Kassapa shifted uneasily, his phone buzzing violently in his palm as the live comments started flying in. ‘Well… yes. History is full of them. There are many political opportunists across the land who have plundered the public purse.’

‘And are there people in this country who are not corrupt, discredited politicians?’ Arahat pressed further, his voice rising to a crescendo.

Portly Monk Walanhanduwe Dharmaratna coughed into his hand, looking nervously at the cameras that were now capturing his sudden panic. ‘Yes, technically. The vast majority of the citizenry are ordinary, hardworking people who simply wish to live in peace, feed their children, and see justice prevail.’

The imaginary Arahat Mahinda of my daydream stepped onto the stage, his presence making the Satyagraha space feel suffocatingly small.

‘Then tell me, wise monks,’ Arahat Mahinda roared, his authoritative voice shaking the very poles of the makeshift tent. ‘If we set aside all those other corrupt politicians roaming elsewhere, and if we set aside the entire population of honest, hardworking citizens who want nothing to do with your theater… who is left sitting under this tent?!”

‘An absolute, terrifying silence stilled the air. Television cameras zoomed in on the sweat breaking out on Sumangala’s brow. Arahat Mahinda’s deductive trap had snapped shut with the force of a steel jaw. By their own logic, the only entities remaining in the equation were the handful of compromised oligarchs pulling their strings, and the monks who consented to act as their spiritual human shields.

‘You see,’ Arahat Mahinda continued, his voice dropping to a devastatingly sharp whisper that cut deeper than a blade, ‘Twenty-three centuries ago, I used this very riddle to ensure that a king possessed the logical capacity to govern for the welfare of all living beings. I taught him that the land belongs to the people, and that the ruler is merely its temporary guardian. But you three have completely inverted Dhamma! You have become the vanguard of brazen rogues, using the sacred robes of the Enlightened One to protect the hordes of the greedy!›’

‘Venerable Sir!’ Walanhanduwe protested, his face turning an angry shade of crimson as he clutched his relic casket for comfort.

‘We are protecting our traditional privileges! If the elite fall, who will sponsor our grand pageants? Who will build our golden fences? Who will pay for our luxury hybrid SUVs?!’

‘The Dhamma does not require a golden fence built with stolen public funds!’ the resonant voice of the Arahat replied, firm as the Mihintale rock. ‘A true sanctuary is built on virtue, not on the patronage of a discredited court. Look at yourselves! You call this a satyagraha firm adherence to truth. Yet your truth is bought by the plateful, your fasting is a comedic illusion staged between television commercial breaks, and your devotion is a transactional lease signed with politicians currently adrift in the turbulent currents of their own bad karma!’

Balangoda Kassapa quietly slipped his phone into his bag, suddenly very aware of how utterly ridiculous his live-stream looked to a nation laughing hysterically in the comments section. Ulapane Sumangala tried to rally his thoughts to launch a fierce counteroffensive about external conspiracies and threats to their heritage, but the words withered in his throat, completely vaporised under the cool, blinding light of the Arahat’s gaze.

‘The mango tree in Mihintale still bears fruit because its roots were planted in honest soil,’ Arahat Mahinda said, turning his back on the stage with a dramatic sweep of his robes. ‘But this plastic garden of corruption you have built in the park will wither before the sun sets. Go back to your temples! Wash the political soot from your robes! And remember that the people of this island are no longer the naive subjects of a bygone era, they have passed the intelligence test, even if their supposed teachers have failed it miserably!’

With that final, earth-shattering declaration, the imaginary Arahat stepped away from the soiled site of the fraudulent protest.

Light that endures

Vivid figures of my daydream faded back. I returned to the dull stillness of my quiet room. The heavy sorrow that had weighed so deeply on my eighty-four-year-old heart began to lift, replaced by a gentle, enduring conviction.

The transient political circuses built by greed are nothing more than passing shadows on the ever-changing landscape of time. They do not define our beautiful island, nor can they ever truly compromise the pristine core of the Dhamma.

For twenty-three centuries, the true light brought by Arahat Mahinda has endured-not through golden fences, luxurious pageants, or the patronage of powerful politicians, but because the pristine Dhamma resides quietly and immovably within the hearts of ordinary, virtuous people.

As long as there are those who remember the simple, compassionate logic of that ancient mango tree-who seek truth, practice kindness, and guard their minds against hatred-the light of the Buddha remains undiminished. Governments rise and fall.

Interim illusions invariably crumble into dust. The timeless path of virtue stands unshakeable, offering its eternal sanctuary of peace and ultimate hope to a waiting nation. As the Blessed One declared in the Dhammapada:

‘Selo yatha ekaghano vatena na samirati,

Eva? pa??ita nindapasa?sasu na samiñjanti.’

‘Just as a solid rock is not shaken by the storm, even so, the wise remain unmoved by praise or blame.’

The Prince, The General, The Fallen Ally: The Mechanics Of Neutralization (I)

There is nothing new under the sun and nothing new in the spectacle now unfolding between President Bola Ahmed Tinubu and his former ally, Nasir Ahmad El-Rufai. What the public sees as betrayal is the oldest choreography in the theatre of power. El-Rufai’s restrained statement-that he seeks neither revenge nor retribution, that accountability belongs to Almighty Allah-is noble. But peace with circumstance is not the same as understanding circumstance. What has happened to him is not unique. The Greeks knew it. The Romans perfected it. The Italians codified it. Nigeria is now living it.

Machiavelli’s The Prince was never a moral treatise but a clinical dissection of how power is acquired, held, and lost. In Chapter Seven he warns that princes who rise through the arms and fortune of others stand on shaky ground, depending on those who elevated them; the prince who rises through the strength of others must eventually neutralise those others-or be neutralised by them. Tinubu understood this instinctively.

When El-Rufai delivered the northern votes that made Tinubu’s presidency possible in 2023, he was no mere supporter. He was a kingmaker-a general who mobilised troops, secured territory, and handed victory to his prince. According to former minister Solomon Dalung, El-Rufai created Tinubu; remove El-Rufai, and Tinubu would not have won in 2023. This was never friendship but a calculated transaction. El-Rufai needed Tinubu for post-gubernatorial relevance; Tinubu needed northern legitimacy. Machiavelli warns that a prince must never fully trust those who serve out of their own ambition. The alliance was always destined to fracture because it was built on utility, not trust.

The nomination process was the masterstroke. When Tinubu submitted his ministerial list in July 2023, El-Rufai’s name was conspicuously included. It appeared a reward for loyalty. Machiavelli would have recognised it as a feint. By nominating El-Rufai, Tinubu achieved three objectives: he shifted blame for rejection onto the Senate; he placed El-Rufai under public scrutiny and security clearance; and bought time to consolidate a loyalist cabinet. This is indirect action-achieving the goal while concealing the hand. In Chapter Eighteen, Machiavelli advises that the prince be a great feigner and dissembler. The nomination was appearance; the rejection was reality; the Senate bridged the distance.

The Senate’s rejection on alleged security grounds was not due process but performance of it. Other governors with comparable or more troubling profiles were cleared without incident. They were pliable, unambitious, or sufficiently indebted to the presidency. El-Rufai was none of these. His independent stature, northern network, and capacity to mobilise made him a liability in a cabinet Tinubu intended to control absolutely. The Senate became the intermediary that performed the unpopular act while the president preserved plausible deniability. El-Rufai later confirmed this. In a 2025 interview, he said: ‘The president did not want me in his cabinet. He changed his mind.’ He called the security clearance a ‘smokescreen,’ noting that ‘less qualified’ nominees were confirmed ‘because the president made a call.’ This transforms the Machiavellian reading from inference to documented allegation.

History offers chilling parallels. In Rome, Sejanus, prefect of the Praetorian Guard under Tiberius, was the emperor’s most trusted ally. He eliminated rivals and became second most powerful. But he became too capable, too indispensable. Tiberius orchestrated his fall via letters read before the Senate. Sejanus was condemned by the Senate, strangled in prison, and his body cast down the Gemonian Stairs for the mob to abuse. Like El-Rufai, he was elevated, used, and neutralised through institutional machinery. The difference is that El-Rufai survived. The Ottoman devshirme offers a colder version: Christian boys elevated to the highest offices, but with no independent family or tribal base, destroyable by the silent bowstring. El-Rufai is no devshirme servant. He has an independent base-which is precisely why he was neutralised. The prince fears not the servant who owes everything to him, but the ally who can stand alone.

Nor is this experience peculiar to El-Rufai, or to politics, or to our century; it is the common inheritance of mankind, written into the scriptures of all faiths and the chronicles of all nations. History gave us Julius Caesar, struck down by Brutus, the man he had pardoned-‘Et tu, Brute?’ is the eternal cry of every leader who finds the dagger in a friend’s hand. The Bible is a catalogue of such wounds: Joseph sold by his own brothers; David betrayed by Absalom and Ahithophel; Job abandoned by accusing friends; Jesus delivered for thirty pieces of silver by Judas, denied by Peter, deserted by Demas. Islam tells the same truth. The Quran recounts Yusuf-‘the best of stories’-whose brothers cast him into a well, yet God raised him to the treasury of Egypt and made him say to his betrayers, ‘No blame upon you today.’ The Prophet Muhammad himself was stoned at Ta’if and tested at Uhud when the archers abandoned their posts; and Karbala remains the enduring testimony that those who invite a leader may be the first to abandon him. The Quran consoles every betrayed soul: ‘You will surely be tested in your possessions and in yourselves’ (3:186), and ‘perhaps you hate a thing and it is good for you’ (2:216). What El-Rufai now feels is therefore no aberration but a rite of passage-painful, yes, but part of life and, rightly borne, an experience worth the while. It is also a reminder that not everyone is ready for the bullet. Betrayal breaks some and refines others; only those with the constitution to absorb it without bitterness can convert the wound into wisdom.

El-Rufai’s own testimony invites deeper reflection, stated diplomatically yet forcefully. As a Muslim he knows that power belongs to God alone, who gives and withdraws it as He wills. Dominion is His; He gives and takes as He pleases. The lesson cuts both ways. The prince now seated must never assume permanence, for the same Hand that elevated him can lower him. The ally now cast aside must never assume his season has ended, for the same Hand that permitted his humiliation can restore him. God uses human beings as instruments-Tinubu was in part El-Rufai’s instrument, just as El-Rufai now appears Tinubu’s casualty; both remain instruments in a design neither controls. This is no licence for fatalism but a call for humility and vigilance. Human beings must be careful with assumptions, whether of invincibility or of irrelevance. The prudent man plans, prepares, and waits-but does not presume to know the decree.

Nigeria’s system is patrimonial. Power flows through personal ties, patronage, and ethnic alliances, not impersonal institutions. The prince cannot rely on institutional loyalty; he must rely on individuals whose loyalty lasts only as long as their interests align. El-Rufai’s base is the North. Tinubu needed northern legitimacy to win; once elected, he had to prevent El-Rufai from using the North independently. The rejection was never merely about security. It was about restructuring the North’s relationship with the centre, ensuring northern leaders owed their positions to Tinubu, not to El-Rufai. This is divide-and-rule. Machiavelli would have recognised it instantly.

INEC distributes 31,444 new PVCs in Bayelsa

The Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) says it has distributed 31,444 new Permanent Voters Cards (PVCs) in Bayelsa.

Mallam Isah Shaka, the INEC Resident Electoral Commissioner (REC) in the state disclosed this on Tuesday, at the 2026 Election Stakeholders Forum held at the State Secretariat in Yenagoa.

The figure, he said, was out of the 52,225 PVCs allocated in the first phase of Continuous Voters Registration (CVR) across the eight Local Government Areas of the state, ahead of the 2027 general elections.

Breaking down the figure, Shaka said Brass received 6,211 PVCs; Ekermor, 12,023; Nembe, 3,620 and Kolokoma/Opokoma, 3,712.

Others according to him, are Ogbia, 3,132 PVCs; Sagbama, 10,080; Yenegoa, 6,332 and Southern Ijaw 7,115.

The INEC official stated that the CVR exercise commenced on Aug. 18, 2025 and was initially scheduled to end on July 12.

He noted, however, that following an extension of two weeks, the exercise concluded on July 26.

According to him, political competition should be conducted within the provision of the law and the guidelines issued by the commission.

‘I, therefore, expect all political parties to play by the rules.

‘Respect the rights and other contestants and avoid any action capable of threatening public peace or undermining the credibility of the electoral process.

‘The commission has made significant progress in its preparatory activities in monitoring of political parties progress and Primaries, publications of candidates credentials and final list of nominated candidates,’ he said.

The REC encouraged qualified and interested members of the public to take advantage of the ongoing recruitment into the commission to submit their applications through the official recruitment portal before the deadline.

He asserted that the recruitment process remained an important part of the preparation for the general elections.

Also speaking, the Commissioner of Police in Bayelsa, Mr Ajao Adewale said the idea of bringing together all the key stakeholders was not just a mere gathering but a strategic, non-kinetic engagement, aimed at ensuring a credible and rancour-free electoral process.

He stressed that the responsibility of the police is to help provide a safe environment before, during and after the elections, while respecting the independence of INEC and the rights of every citizen.

The police commissioner added that voters must be able to exercise their choices without intimidation, while electoral officials must be able to carry out their duties without interference.

‘We are paying attention to potential threats that could disrupt the electoral process, including political violence, election-related criminal activities, threats against election officials and the spread of inflammatory misinformation.

‘In view of this fact that security agencies cannot achieve peaceful elections alone, I urge political parties, candidates and all political actors to respect one another’s rights,’ he said.

The police chief called on community leaders, youth groups and civil society organisations to help resolve tensions early and report credible threats promptly.

He noted that the police command, alongside other security agencies are committed to protecting the people’s right to participate in the electoral process peacefully.

Azerbaijan welcomes UAE diplomat’s nomination for UN Secretary-General

Azerbaijan has welcomed the initiative to nominate Lana Zaki Nusseibeh, Minister of State of the United Arab Emirates (UAE), for the position of Secretary-General of the United Nations.

Aykhan Hajizada, spokesperson for Azerbaijan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, made the statement in response to a media inquiry concerning Nusseibeh’s nomination.

Hajizada emphasised that Azerbaijan attaches particular importance to ensuring that the selection of the next UN Secretary-General is conducted in accordance with the principles of the UN Charter.

According to the spokesperson, the selection process should be guided by candidates’ professional qualifications, diplomatic experience, impartiality and ability to build consensus among UN member states.

“We hope that this process will culminate in an outcome that contributes to the formation of a stronger, more efficient United Nations capable of responding agilely to modern challenges,” Hajizada said.

Nusseibeh’s diplomatic background

Lana Zaki Nusseibeh is an experienced Emirati diplomat who currently serves as the UAE’s Minister of State.

She previously represented the UAE as its Permanent Representative to the United Nations from 2013 to 2024, playing a prominent role in the country’s multilateral diplomacy.

During her tenure, Nusseibeh held several senior positions within the UN system, including Vice-President of the UN General Assembly and President of the Executive Board of UN Women.

She also presided over the UN Security Council on two occasions during the UAE’s membership in the Council in 2022-2023.