๐ง๐ต๐ฒ ๐๐น๐ผ๐ฏ๐ฎ๐น ๐๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ ๐ฏ๐ ๐๐ฒ๐ฟ๐ฎ๐น๐ฑ ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐๐ฎ๐ฟ๐๐ฎ
In the gilded shadows of Forbes Park, where the elite sip champagne while the nation drowns in corruption, a 27-year-old congressman named Kiko Barzaga showed up with selfies, cat memes, and a megaphone screaming “Marcos resign!”
On October 12, as 2,000 riot police barricaded the gates of Makati’s most exclusive enclave, Barzaga, the self-proclaimed “Congressmeow” from Cavite’s 4th District, turned a promised storm into a sly cat-and-mouse game. He feinted toward the village’s billion-peso villas, homes to the likes of former Speaker Martin Romualdez and Ako Bicol’s Zaldy Co (alleged architects of the flood control heist), before pivoting to Rajah Sulayman Park.
There, amid chants of “Kiko, Kiko!” and a crowd of just over 100, he declared war on the old guard.
Is this Gen Z firebrand tilting at windmills like Cervantes’ delusional knight, or is he the viral insurgent who could finally drag the Marcos dynasty off its throne?
Barzaga’s saga reads like a fever dream of Filipino politics. He was a former UniTeam cheerleader who endorsed Bongbong Marcos in 2022 and now howls for his ouster.
Just days before the rally, on October 8, he flashed a draft impeachment complaint on Facebook Live, accusing the president of “betrayal of public trust” over the flood control scandal. This ghost project bonanza siphoned hundreds of billions while Central Luzon and Metro Manila choked under monsoon waters.
“Bye-bye Marcos,” he purred, channeling the rage of families still mucking sewage from their homes.
This isn’t idle chatter. Barzaga’s posts rack up 100,000 likes and shares, blending fury with feline flair. He overlays cat emojis on Marcos’ face and threads dissecting how Romualdez’s “oversight” of Cavite funds fattened cronies like the Discayas.
Malacaรฑang scoffs (“too busy for intriga,” they say), but Barzaga’s not fazed. He’s the kid who grew up idolizing Duterte’s iron fist and now swings it at the palace while dodging an ethics probe for “seditious” posts and ethics hearings he skips for video games.
Call him eccentric?
Sure. He missed his own House ethics grilling on October 13, fresh from the rally, claiming he stayed up late “playing games.”
Critics like lawyer Jesus Falcis mock him as “all meow and no bite,” pointing to the paltry turnout at Forbes. Deputy Speaker Ronnie Puno shrugs: “He’s doing a good job? Impeach him for what?” And Speaker Bojie Dy dismisses the complaint as low priority amid national woes.
Fair points, if you ignore the undercurrent.
Barzaga’s not alone in the wilderness.
He’s Gen Z incarnate: digital-native, unfiltered, and unafraid to weaponize TikTok against nepo babies jet-setting while barangays flood. His Forbes stunt, peaceful under NCRPO watch, echoed the September 21 Mendiola clashes, where youth hurled stones at the elite’s impunity.
Outfoxing 2,000 cops? That’s not delusion. That’s daring.
It’s the same audacity that toppled Nepal’s old guard, a revolution Barzaga fangirls on his feeds.
So, Don Quixote or firebrand? The answer lies in what happens next. If Barzaga fizzles (impeachment archived like Sara Duterte’s, rallies reduced to memes), he’s just another quixotic footnote, a cat chasing laser dots in Congress. But if his meows multiply, if Gen Z amplifies the outrage with viral scrutiny, if the flood scandal’s whistleblowers find allies in his independent streak, then he’s the spark.
The Marcos machine thrives on apathy, but Barzaga’s betting on outrage.
Forbes Park’s gates held, but cracks are forming.
The old guard built empires on our drowned dreams. This “Congressmeow” claws at the foundations.
Dismiss him at your peril. He’s not tilting at giants. He’s summoning them to fall.
In a nation weary of dynasties, one cat’s hiss could roar.
