“Bawal daw nung nakaraan kaya wala muna, eh nanalo na kaya pwedeng pwede na ulit.” With a soft laugh, Ate Marie, a vendor from the Pasig Mega Market, recalled the quiet disappearance of a simple kakanin. No confrontations, just silence because it bore the name of a candidate who rattled the powerful. For years, biko was a casualty of politics. Now, the rice cake symbolizes new hope and changed leadership.
When Vico Sotto became Mayor of Pasig in 2019, he challenged a political dynasty that had dominated for nearly three decades. Young and idealistic, Sotto’s governance centered on transparency, service, and integrity, translating campaign promises into tangible reforms.
One of his earliest moves was creating Ugnayan sa Pasig, an office addressing public concerns about poor service and corruption. While others might hide complaints, Vico spotlighted dysfunction to solve it. Ugnayan wasn’t just an office but a philosophy where grievances were logged, tracked, and answered. It exemplified participatory governance, proving that listening could be as powerful as legislating. Simultaneously, procurement processes became transparent, with city contracts published online and red tape dramatically reduced.
Sotto’s reforms reached beyond paperwork. He upgraded barangay health centers, increased medicine budgets, and added mental health support. During the pandemic, his administration provided students with tablets and internet access while rehabilitating schools. He modernized social welfare programs, streamlining aid distribution and supporting marginalized sectors. His governance wasn’t just efficient—it was empathetic.
Perhaps Sotto’s greatest achievement isn’t any single policy but his challenge to traditional politics. He rejected patronage, criticized “epal” governance, and built systems that worked regardless of personalities. His refusal to put his name on city projects embodied his style: servant first, politician second.
His administration avoided retaliatory politics, focusing instead on inclusion and institutional reform. This reshaped expectations of what local leadership could be.
Though focused on Pasig, Sotto’s impact extends far beyond the city. He represents generational change and proof that good governance works. Younger candidates nationwide cite him as inspiration, and citizens increasingly demand accountability from officials. Even without seeking higher office, his influence has redefined leadership standards.
These changes didn’t happen overnight. Sotto acknowledges that real reform is slow and sometimes frustrating. For people like Ate Marie, changes are felt in every slice of biko sold freely in the market, in public offices that serve rather than intimidate, and in students with working gadgets. Reform isn’t a distant concept—it’s the merienda, a prelude to something greater.
As Sotto begins his final term, questions arise: Will this governance outlive him? Will his successor continue his work?
Vico never claimed to be a savior. His message remains: We all have a role to play. The challenge lies in the people’s continued vigilance. Will they demand the same honesty and humility?
Vico Sotto gave Pasig a new flavor—clean, fresh, and nourishing. As more cities crave that taste of good governance, reform that began in one market stall might become the recipe for a nation ready to demand more.
