Absolutely, let’s dive into the glittering carnival of campaign promises—those sparkly, soundbite-ready, mostly expiration-dated gems tossed to the masses every election season. As voters, we hold a sacred duty: not just to vote, but to remember. And laugh. Especially after the dust settles, and not one promise is left standing—except maybe the ones that were never meant to be kept.

Let’s start with the greatest hits album of Filipino campaign pledges that aged about as well as unrefrigerated fish.

1. “If we lose, we’ll leave the country!” — The Cardema Couple (a.k.a. Duterte Youth)

Talk about a tempting offer. Many voters said, “Deal!” faster than you can say “red-tagging.” This power couple, champions of youthful nationalism (despite being more seasoned than a 3-day-old lumpia), boldly vowed to bid farewell to the Philippines if they were rejected at the polls.

And when they did not win?

Well… we’re still waiting for the one-way ticket selfies. It’s giving ‘I’ll leave Facebook forever if this candidate loses’, but still liking posts to this day. At this point, even immigration officers are like, “So… when kayo aalis ulit?”

2. “Support me, or I’ll take the land back!” — Senator Cynthia Villar, landlady of the nation

Now this is not your usual political threat—this is pasalubong-level petty. Imagine donating land to a community and then treating it like a Netflix password: “If you don’t support me, I’m changing it!”

It’s not campaigning, it’s emotional blackmail with property titles. Villar basically weaponized land distribution into an episode of Survivor: “Vote me out and the rice fields go with me.” Who knew agrarian reform had a plot twist?

3. “Bring Duterte home!” — Actor Ipe Salvador, or is he auditioning for ‘Ang Probinsyano: Malacañang Edition’?

Nothing says legacy politics quite like a celebrity entering the scene with a mission to repatriate a former president like he’s a missing balikbayan box.

Was Duterte missing? Is this a political platform or a rescue operation? One might imagine Ipe in full action-hero mode, dodging Senate hearings and UN rapporteurs to “bring Tatay Digong home.” Someone give this man a script—and maybe a campaign manager who knows the difference between policy and fan service.

4. “Free electricity below ₱2,000!” — Rodante Marcoleta, the Robin Hood of Meralco bills

Now we’re talking! Who doesn’t want a politician who promises free electricity—if your bill is under a very specific amount. It’s the political equivalent of “Buy 1, Take 1, but only if you buy on a Tuesday while facing the moon.”

One wonders: was there a study? A feasibility analysis? Or was it just a case of “throw in a random number and see if the crowd cheers”? Spoiler alert: They did. Because after all, nothing sparks joy like the word “free”—especially in a country where brownouts last longer than most love teams.

Promises, Promises… Or Just Punchlines?

In the grand telenovela of Philippine politics, campaign promises have become more like plot twists—surprising, often unbelievable, and usually never mentioned again after the season finale (a.k.a. election day).

Will they ever be fulfilled?

Let’s put it this way: If campaign promises were a currency, we’d all be billionaires, with free land, free electricity, and one ex-president home for the holidays.

But hey, at least we got the posters. And the jingles. And the memes. Democracy at its funniest.

Moral of the story? Politicians promise, but the people remember. Sometimes. If not, well… see you at the next campaign rally, where the only thing guaranteed is a free t-shirt and another pledge we’ll laugh about in three years.