01/07/2025
On Friday the 13th of June 2025, the Medical Cannabis Bill quietly died on the Senate floor.
We watched it happen—not with surprise, but with a deep, familiar ache. Our fight for legal medical cannabis has now reached its 11th year, and still, the promise of dignity, relief, and hope for thousands of Filipino patients was left to wither in silence.
As the chamber descended into political theater over the impeachment of Vice President Sara Duterte, the bill was sidelined. Unfortunately, its lone sponsor, Senator Robin Padilla, stood not to defend it, but to lead the charge to defer the impeachment proceedings. He said he would waft an eau de Duterte if he were smoked. Du30 Auto strain, perhaps?
Let us be clear: the impeachment proceedings are not the culprit behind the death of the medical cannabis bill in the 19th Congress. The charges—corruption, bribery, betrayal of public trust, murder, and conspiracy to commit murder—are serious and must be tried by the Senate as provided for by our Constitution. The Filipino people deserve justice. And as drug policy reform advocates, we too demand justice—for the victims of the War on Drugs, a policy supported, aided, and abetted by VP Duterte.
But what truly killed the cannabis bill is the very nature of our political system. Every move made in the House and Senate—how bills get written, how they move from tables to podiums, from the hands of gatekeepers to the desk of the President—is swayed by business interests, influenced by ambitions, and persuaded by sweeteners. Lobbying often feels more like watching political drama unfold than actually explaining why a bill is worth passing.
And while the drama played out, real people waited. Children with intractable epilepsy. Cancer patients in pain. Families who’ve exhausted every legal option and still find themselves criminalized for seeking relief. These are not abstract policy points—they are lives paused in suffering, waiting for a government to catch up with compassion.
Living by the adage that despair is only for those who are incapable of struggle, we at Haraya Policy Center held camp at the Senate Hall. There were cheesy midnight meetings with key Senate leaders, last-minute amendments, executive sessions, hazy encounters, and a Hail Mary to Malacañang. There were high blood moments. There were tears.
We came so close.
But we are not mourning a bill.
We are marking a moment—a moment that will be remembered not for its failure, but for the fire it lit in all of us.
The next Congress will hear us louder.
The next generation of lawmakers will be braver.
And the next version of this bill will be stronger.
We are not done. We are just getting started.
CTTO: Lea Organa
