Zaldy Co’s Claim: Zero Centavos? The Insult That Tests Memory

In the middle of a massive transparency rally — one fueled by genuine public frustration over corruption — a familiar face suddenly appeared on the big screen: Zaldy Co.

Zaldy Co is telling the nation he earned nothing from DepEd's procurement of overpriced laptops—not a centavo, not a peso, not even the faintest shadow of personal benefit. (Photo: Rep. Zaldy Co Facebook / DPWH Facebook)

In the video now making the rounds online, Co declares, almost with theatrical sorrow, that he “did not earn a single centavo” from the projects he is being linked to.

It was a line meant to shock. Instead, it simply reminded the country of something else.

We remember the DepEd laptop procurement — a fiasco that has become one of the clearest symbols of how public funds can be stretched beyond logic and still be defended with a straight face.

This was the purchase where laptops intended for teachers were priced at ₱58,300 per unit, even though similar models were available on the market for roughly ₱25,000 to ₱30,000.

Worse, the units delivered were so underpowered that teachers struggled to run basic applications.

The Commission on Audit flagged the deal. Teachers complained. Analysts questioned. And the public understood exactly what happened.

The laptops were overpriced. The performance was poor. The procurement did not pass the smell test.

Yet here we are, watching a video of a man linked to that very procurement telling the nation he earned nothing—not a centavo, not a peso, not even the faintest shadow of personal benefit.

It is a convenient claim. But it is not a convincing one.

When a procurement nearly doubles the market price while halving the performance, someone benefits. Public money does not grow legs and walk off into the sunset.

It moves because someone moves it. It inflates because someone inflates it. It becomes profitable because someone profits.

What makes Co’s statement even more curious is the platform where the video resurfaced.

Tens of thousands of rallyists had gathered to protest corruption, calling for transparency and accountability.

They came with earnestness and conviction. Many traveled from far provinces. They brought placards, prayers, and deep frustration. But they did not come asking to hear Zaldy Co.

They did not rally to cleanse the reputations of the very figures whose names appear in controversies involving public funds.

They did not flock to Luneta to become unwitting co-signatories to one man’s televised absolution.

They came to demand truth — not narratives curated to rehabilitate political actors carrying heavy baggage.

And so, the question now hangs, quietly but firmly: Why was a video from a figure linked to an overpriced, underperforming laptop procurement included in a rally calling for transparency?

Of all the voices in the country — teachers, auditors, whistleblowers, engineers, communities affected by failed flood-control projects — why was Co’s voice the one projected to the crowd?

Why him? Why now? Why there?

His video could have stayed on social media, where the public could independently judge its tone, substance, and sincerity. Instead, it was elevated onto a stage meant for moral clarity.

A stage meant for genuine reform. A stage where truth is supposed to be louder than ambition.

This column does not condemn the rallyists — their anger is real, their cause legitimate. It simply points out the inconsistency of inserting Co’s message into a movement he has yet to answer to.

Transparency is not a word one claims. It is a standard one meets.

And for as long as the shadow of the DepEd laptop deal remains unexplained — for as long as the public is forced to swallow the contradiction between market value and procurement cost — Co’s pronouncements, regardless of venue, will be met with warranted skepticism.

The public is not naïve. It remembers numbers. It remembers performance. It remembers who benefited and who did not.

And until full accountability is served, the country has every right to question any public figure who stands before it and declares, with spotless confidence, that he “did not earn a single centavo.”

Because when the documents say one thing and the video says another, the Filipino people know which one tends to tell the truth.

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