"Hmm… politics, huh? Well, it is one of the factors for the success of any industry in the country. But if I were to comment," Timothy exhaled softly, "I'd say the political climate here in the Philippines is intense. And with the election coming up, people are taking sides, notably the Uniteam, represented by Farcos and Duerte."

He paused for a moment, choosing his next words carefully.

"But here's the thing," he continued, his voice steady but firm. "Politics in this country has slowly turned into something cult-like. It isn't just about policies or platforms anymore. It's about personalities. People aren't voting based on competence or vision, they're voting based on loyalty, emotion, and inherited biases."

Mel's eyebrows lifted slightly, clearly aware that Timothy was stepping into sensitive territory, but also clearly wanting him to continue.

Timothy leaned forward, resting his elbows lightly on the table. "And before anyone accuses me of being biased, let me clarify: I'm neutral. I don't belong to any political camp. What I'm saying is based purely on observation."

He gestured with one hand. "Social media alone makes it obvious. Every election cycle, you see families fighting, friendships ending, people calling each other names because they support different candidates. It's divisive. It's toxic. And it's distracting the country from what truly matters, progress."

He shook his head lightly. "The problem is, we've built this culture where politicians are treated like celebrities or saviors. But that's dangerous. Because when people worship politicians, they stop holding them accountable. They defend every mistake. They attack every critic. And that's not democracy, that's fanaticism."

Mel swallowed, the gravity of his words settling in the room.

"And the worst part?" Timothy continued. "Industries suffer because of this polarization. Investors watch the political climate like hawks. If the country looks unstable, divided, unpredictable, they back away. No one wants to put money in a place where the rules might suddenly change depending on which faction wins."

He leaned back again, tapping a finger thoughtfully on his armrest. "That's why the Philippines has struggled to attract long-term investment. Because every six years, we reset. We argue. We fight. We tear each other apart online. And while we're doing that, other countries are quietly building factories, modernizing cities, passing economic reforms, strengthening institutions."

A brief, wry smile crossed his lips. "Meanwhile, we trend on Twitter because two political camps are insulting each other."

Mel let out a soft breath, half amusement, half disbelief. "That's… painfully accurate."

Timothy nodded. "What we need is stability. Predictability. A political culture built on accountability and competence, not on blind devotion. Leaders should be chosen because they can deliver, not because they come from a famous family or because they went viral on Facebook."

He placed a hand lightly on the table. "And I'll be honest: as someone who runs multiple companies, I don't care which political color wins. I care about who can actually govern. Who can ensure stable energy supply. Who can support industrialization. Who can fix corruption. That's it. No drama."

His expression softened, but only slightly. "The Philippines is full of potential. Truly. But potential means nothing if it's strangled by division. We need leaders who unite, not leaders who encourage their supporters to treat politics like a battlefield."

Mel looked at him intently. "So what do you think will happen in the next election?"

Timothy gave a small shrug. "Honestly? I have no idea. But I'm hoping, really hoping, that this time, people choose based on competence, not noise. Because if we keep going down this road, industries will hesitate, investors will hesitate, and the country will stay exactly where it's always been, stuck, arguing, stagnant. For example, the Uniteam. They were supposedly united in the previous election, one brand, one message, one color. But now? Look at them. They're fighting each other publicly. Their supporters are tearing one another down. And what was once marketed as a symbol of unity has broken apart into factions focused more on pride than on the actual welfare of the country."

He exhaled slowly, almost disappointed. "That's the problem with personality-based politics. When alliances are built on convenience rather than principle, they collapse the moment interests clash. And the people, the ordinary citizens, are the ones caught in the crossfire. They become foot soldiers in battles they shouldn't even be fighting."

Mel nodded subtly, her voice softer now. "It must be frustrating, especially from the perspective of someone pushing for national industrialization."

"It is," Timothy admitted. "I'm building companies. I'm building infrastructure. I'm building jobs. All I want is an environment where businesses can grow without being affected every time two political names get into a fight online. Industries need continuity. They need stability. They need leaders who think beyond elections, beyond slogans."

"I've talked to engineers, economists, even foreign investors. You know what they all say? They love the talent here, they love the work ethic, but they hate how unpredictable everything becomes during election season. They're not scared of storms, or earthquakes, or typhoons. They're scared of politics."

He continued. "And most importantly, stop fighting each other. We're not enemies. We're Filipinos. We can disagree without tearing one another apart."

Mel offered a small smile. "Powerful words, Mr. Guerrero. Truly."

Timothy returned the smile faintly. "I only said what needs to be said."

A studio assistant lifted a hand near the camera, two minutes left.

Mel straightened her cards. "Well, Mr. Guerrero, thank you for sharing your insights. Whether people agree or disagree, one thing is clear, you've given the nation a lot to think about."

Timothy nodded. "That's all I hope for. A conversation that actually leads somewhere."

The closing music began to play softly in the background.

Mel turned to the camera for the final line. "We'll be right back after this short break. See you later."

The red recording light dimmed. And that meant the interview between Mel De Leon and Timothy Guerrero had come to a conclusion. It was a success.

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