EVERY government project and program carries an invisible signature. It is not the name of a congressman, governor, mayor, or barangay captain. It is the collective contribution of taxpayers who paid for it.
This is the simple truth that often gets lost when public infrastructure and programs are treated as personal trophies — plastered with names, faces, slogans, and color motifs of politicians eager to claim credit. When that happens, public funds are deviously transformed into tools of self-promotion, and public service is reduced to branding.
The renewed warning from the Department of Interior and Local Government against “epal” practices is a reminder that credit for government projects and programs belong to the people, not to those temporarily entrusted to manage public resources. Roads are built because citizens pay taxes. Health centers operate because workers contribute to the state. Fire trucks roll because the public funds them. Politicians merely oversee the process — they do not bankroll it.
At its core, the Anti-Epal Policy is a call for honesty. It tells officials to be truthful about their role: facilitators, not benefactors. Administrators, not donors. When officials insist on placing their names and faces on projects or programs, they blur this distinction and shamelessly mislead the public into believing that services are acts of personal generosity rather than institutional responsibility.
This practice also undermines democratic fairness. It gives incumbents a visibility advantage financed by taxpayers themselves, tilting the political playing field long before campaigns officially begin. What should be neutral public infrastructure becomes perpetual advertising — paid for by the very voters it seeks to influence.
The rules are not ambiguous. The Commission on Audit has long prohibited personalized displays as unnecessary expenses. The law is clear that public office is a public trust. Government projects must never be used for personal promotion. What remains inconsistent is compliance.
This is why enforcement matters as much as policy. Reminders without consequences only embolden violators. When officials know that rules can be bent without penalty, the message spreads quickly — and “epal” culture becomes normalized.
Citizens must also reclaim their rightful credit. Report violations, this is civic vigilance. Every improperly branded project or program is a reminder that public money deserves public recognition, not personal appropriation.
Good governance does not need signatures on concrete. It needs results that endure long after names fade from memory. When officials truly serve, their legacy is measured not by how often they appear on signboards, but by how effectively public funds improve public life.
Public funds demand public credit — and nothing less.
