Bong Bong

San Cassimally
4 min readMay 13, 2022


(Or What’s wrong with democracy)

No one denies that almost half of the people who voted in that election did choose Trump. That a great many millions of Pakistanis welcomed the resurgence of the kleptocratic Sharifs when Imran Khan was ousted. The outrageous Modi won the count hands down. The British, who saw all the japes of Johnson gave him a landslide victory. Almost half the French electorate put their crosses against Marine Le Pen’s name. To say nothing of the millions who applaud the ludicrous Zemmour. Seventy percent of Russians approve of Putin’s actions. Italians voted for Berlusconi in droves. And now Bong Bong Marcos has won a landslide victory in The Philippines .On the streets of Manilla voters said that they chose Bong Bong, who, having inherited the billions his father stole, will not need to pilfer the coffers of the nation. What a reason to vote for the heir of the biggest thief the world has known! Whither democracy? Withering on the vine?

President Bong Bong at his father’s grave on the day he became president.

A glowing c.v. full of fake heroism

Fighting against Japanese barbarism…

CIA documents later uncovered

His claims to be fraudulent and downright absurd

Ferdinand Marcos was not the first to invent

A glowing brand new biography which was meant

To portray him in a positive light

Resisting invasion and organising the fight

When his own father had welcomed the invaders

He married beauty queen Imelda Romualdez

Who the poor worshipped as their own princess

That’s what you do when your own life’s a mess

She became Bonnie Parker to his Clyde Barrow

Who stole so they never had to beg or borrow

But he managed to bamboozle the electors

As a first step to becoming a dictator

First he became the country’s president

Presiding over its tragic descent

Into the pit of chaos and kleptocracy

Pretending to be defending democracy

Unflinchingly praised by the White house

As a bulwark ‘gainst the Chinese communist louse.

Opponents were targeted by death squads

Carrying out Marcos-inspired jihads

Against unarmed activists and opponents

As a clear and stern warning against dissent

Their mutilated bodies left out

For all to see and be in no doubt

About who in the country was the boss

Enough is enough, clean your act Marcos

This took his Yankee masters thirty years to say

Or henceforth we each go our own way

He had not expected his friends would rock his boat

Demanding a UN monitored ballot

When Aquino won they half wished that they had not

But clearly he had become expendable

Even erstwhile allies thought him contemptible

Reagan gave instructions to the C.I.A

To facilitate his move and take him away

To Hawaii to be under Yankee protection

Thus escaping much deserved retribution

His sordid reign in dishonour had ended

But they did not leave the country empty-handed

American dollars in twenty-two crates

Twenty crates of silver cups and plates

Three hundred and three crates of jewellery

Ten boxes of solid gold cutlery

Sixty-six Seiko and Cartier watches

Silk, mohair and vicuna in untold batches

A coffin full of pearls and gems twelve foot long

From Manila museum, antiques from Hong Kong

A three-foot gold statue studded with diamonds

Suitcases of bank receipts from the Caymans

No less than twenty-four solid gold bricks

And a staggering number of silver sticks

An ivory statue of the infant Jesus

So sacrilegious it should amaze us

With a silver mantle and a diamond necklace

But to the couple that didn’t seem out of place

What the Messiah said about the camel

And the eye of the needle they heard not too well

Boxes, barrels, suitcases, etcetera

In their rush, the hydra-footed Imelda

Had no time to pack her two thousand pairs of shoes

(So many shoes for so few feet)

So many mouths for so little feed!)

But she shrugged not about to blow a fuse

Let the looters do their worst in Malacanang

They were safe in Hawaii, the world could go hang.

To that sad tale of greed there was an epilogue

As death seemed imminent to the thieving rogue

He made the astounding if touching offer

To ninety percent of his loot hand over

To the cash-strapped Philippino state

If Cory would allow him, once he became late

To rest his wearied and guilty bones within touch

In the land he had loved and looted so much

Of his mum’s and dad’s graves in Manila

Where in waft fragrant scents of vanilla

For the amnesiacs here’s a recapitulation of Ferdinand Marcos’ reign



San Cassimally

Prizewinning playwright. Mathematician. Teacher. Professional Siesta addict.