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A public school teacher has grown accustomed to floods as an everyday reality.

The local resident takes a paddle boat through inundated streets on a regular basis. It's the sole method to travel from her residence in the residential area to the heart of a low-lying town near the nation’s capital.

The boat brings her to work, and to the medical facility where she is being treated for cancer. She notes she encounters dry streets for a brief period each year.

Yet currently she is deeply frustrated.

A particularly intense monsoon has derailed daily life more than ever in the Philippines, and ignited outrage and claims about corruption in flood control projects.

Heavy precipitation have left stuck millions mid-commute, caused vehicles to drift in thoroughfares that have become rivers and led to outbreaks of a waterborne disease, an illness affecting the liver that propagates through the droppings of sewer rats.

"I feel betrayed," Ms Tolentino says. "I put in effort, I don't spend too much and taxes are taken from my salary every month. I find out that vast sums in our taxes are used personally by dishonest officials."

Such claims striking a chord nationwide, where people are demanding why the government cannot manage the inundation with the significant funding of pesos it pours into public works like roads, bridges and levees.

Their anger is evident on online platforms, digital spaces and X, where they are voicing toward lawmakers and business magnates who they assert win contracts for fictitious projects that never materialise.

The leader Ferdinand Marcos Jr himself recognized this as a ongoing issue on a inspection tour to examine a barrier that he then found did not exist. The minister later said corruption had taken a significant portion of public funds allocated for water management.

The legislative leader, who has been associated, has resigned, although he disputes any wrongdoing. And the leader of the upper house has been removed after it was found that a contractor who won a state project was found to have donated money to his election effort, which is prohibited.

Frustrated Filipinos have been stitching together AI videos of officials as representatives of corruption, a emblem of avarice. Much the anger is also aimed at nepo babies, the offspring of influential politicians or contractors, whose lavish lives are featured across social media.

Looking through her feeds, she says she relates most to a rap song from over a decade ago which has become the background to the public fury.

Upuan, by recording artist Gloc-9, challenges why officials are incapable to connect with common folk. The title means chair in Tagalog, and it captures the resentment at those with parliamentary seats who seem disconnected from the lives of regular Filipinos.

"The track is exactly what we face," the resident says. "There are no better words."

A major graft-focused protest is already scheduled for Sunday, 21 September—the anniversary of the day in 1972 when the dictator Ferdinand Marcos imposed authoritarian control.

Ferdinand Marcos Jr, who is now president—the younger Marcos—is well aware of how far popular outrage can go. It was, people's movements that pushed his father from power in that year, ending a prolonged dictatorship that misappropriated billions from the state.

More recently, activism forced policy changes in Indonesia and, only days ago, overthrew the government in Nepal. And so on Monday, as Filipinos called for an explanation, the leader announced an probe that would "unmask the swindlers and find out how much they stole."

"Were I not in office, I might be joining the protests with them," he told reporters.

"Let them know how much they hurt you, how they took from you. Tell them, shout at them, rally—just make it peaceful."

This mirrored previous statements when he promised relief from the floods while appearing to pin the fault elsewhere. He faulted unethical leaders and contractors for the severe lack of infrastructure: "Shame on you," he said.

Then in a public statement he said he had discovered a "concerning" fact: the infrastructure agency had contracted only a small number of companies to build water management initiatives worth billions in local currency ($a huge amount).

All of those firms are now under review and the national financial authority has restricted their accounts, but the most attention has gone to one family-owned business. It belongs to a couple, who were brought up in poor families but are now a affluent, prominent couple active on social media. Before the floods controversy, Ms Discaya was best known for her unsuccessful bid to become public official of Pasig city.

Late last year the couple were profiled on well-known platforms, where they shared their rags-to-riches story. The presenter described it as "inspiring". But following the severe weather, those videos have resurfaced as targets of frustration.

The footage reveals the couple showing off their multiple luxury cars, including a high-end vehicle, a large car and a sports utility vehicle. They purchased some models in contrasting hues, black and white.

The reaction was swift. The Discayas were ordered by the government inquiries for hearings, and authorities barred their firm, while activists covered the gates to their office with dirt and spray-painted the word "thief".

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