There is something almost ironic about politicians who spend years asking to be seen but suddenly become difficult to find when questions start arriving.

Election season in the Philippines has always been loud. Faces appear on billboards large enough to stare down highways. Campaign caravans flood the streets. Hands are shaken. Promises are repeated until they begin to sound like the truth. Trust is demanded long before it is earned. Politicians ask people to believe in them before they ask for power.

Power has always loved attention. Accountability, apparently, does not.

Recent discussions surrounding Vice President Sara Duterte’s possible absence from her impeachment trial have raised questions about whether silence and nonattendance may become part of a legal strategy. To be clear, every person deserves due process. Every person has the right to legal counsel, and every person has the right to defend themselves.

No reasonable person is arguing otherwise.

What many are questioning is something larger than legality, because hiding behind legal strategies will never become a clever defense when you are asking an entire country to trust you. There is a difference between exercising a right and avoiding responsibility. There is a difference between defending yourself and disappearing when answers are being demanded.

Public office was never supposed to operate on technicalities alone. A vice president is not simply another individual protecting private interests. Public officials occupy positions built on public trust, and trust does not survive on carefully managed silence.

If allegations are false, answer them. If accusations are politically motivated, challenge them directly. If evidence lacks truth, dismantle it publicly. Face the process. Leadership was never meant to hide behind procedure while waiting for difficult questions to pass.

And perhaps that is why this impeachment trial matters far beyond Sara Duterte herself. For years, Philippine politics has repeatedly revolved around names powerful enough to become institutions of their own. Families become political machines. Surnames become brands. Loyalty slowly replaces scrutiny. People stop asking whether leaders deserve power and instead ask whether a family still possesses enough influence to keep it.

The Duterte family has occupied enormous political space for years. Supporters call it strength. Critics call it concentrated power. But regardless of political allegiance, no family should ever become larger than accountability. Not in a democratic country.

Politicians love being visible when they are asking for votes. However, they should be just as visible when the country starts asking questions. Public office was never supposed to work like a disappearing act where visibility becomes optional the moment accountability enters the room.

But where is she now?

This is why people should be careful not to confuse criticism with persecution, and accountability with victimhood. If Sara Duterte chooses absence as a strategy, then people should not feel sorry for a public official who is nowhere in sight while the country is demanding answers.

No sympathy is owed for an absence when the country is the one left waiting for answers.

The Frontman