After a decade of stalled construction, I trusted an engineer in early 2025 to finally finish the building. He deliberately scammed us from the very beginning.
This is the story of how that happened, and why I started Construction Pulis.
The Blue Building
I came home to the Philippines for Christmas in 2024 with two missions: to spend the holidays with my family and speak with the engineer about the Blue Building. We call it that because the third floor is painted blue.
My family started building our home without a blueprint and with only enough money for the foundation.
By 2015, we had applied for a Pag-IBIG loan and paid for an architectural design because Pag-IBIG required it. And since our loan was labeled as Home Improvement and the blueprint stayed only on paper, the Bill of Quantities (BOQ) was unclear (I don’t even remember seeing one). Relying on our own “know-how,” we borrowed an amount based on guesswork.
So, we ended up with a three-story building—the third floor semi-finished as our living space, while the first and second floors remained incomplete shells. The concrete walls, floors, and room divisions were already built; they just needed interior finishing.
After the loan had been paid off, all I wanted was to finish the building. I shared our plan to rent out the first and second floors, each with two units.
The engineer listened carefully during our afternoon meeting, his face showing concern. “You don’t have to worry,” he said. “I’m transparent.”
So I trusted him.
I flew back to Japan, where I work as an English teacher, feeling relieved with two missions complete. Then, in March 2025, he sent me the BOQ for the first and second floors. It was expensive, but he assured me it would be fully furnished and blamed inflation for the prices.
I believed him without due diligence. He’s a Christian, a friend of my siblings, and my parents are godparents at his wedding. There’s no way he would scam us.
After two video calls finalizing everything, he texted his thanks for trusting him, promising to do his best. I replied with sincere thanks, “Thank you as well. We prayed for someone to handle this project, and here you are…”
Reading those messages now makes me cringe. When the truth unfolded, the emotions hit in waves: shock, anger, hurt, doubt. I kept checking the BOQ, hoping I was wrong.
The numbers didn’t change.
The Five Cracks
First crack. In May, he said he hadn’t measured or included the overhang ceiling for the first floor. He needed ₱20,000 more.
I checked the BOQ. Our house, built without a blueprint, has different configurations on each floor. But the first and second floors had identical measurements and budgets in the BOQ, and so this would mean that the first-floor overhang was already included.
My brother and I noticed this but dismissed it. We thought he’d explain soon. We played it cool. Besides, they appeared to be making good progress on the renovation.
Second crack. I mistakenly thought the pictures showed both units, which made me worry they’d run out of funds. So, I asked about the funds and mentioned my next remittance wouldn’t be until June.
He said they’d work for another week, then take the following week off (to wait for June). This puzzled me. I’d already sent 70% of the full amount, enough to keep working. Instead of confirming the funds were fine, he chose to stop work for a week.
Then my brother asked about the house’s square meters. The engineer replied: first floor, 85 square meters, second floor, 105 square meters.
Hold on to these numbers. They’re critical.
Third crack. I chose two specific Boysen colors: B-7514 Faint Silver and B-7503 Ashton Grey. He updated me that he’d gone to several stores looking for them, but they weren’t available anywhere. I told him to order them online.
He’d put in the legwork visiting stores. But why didn’t ordering online come up? Was he hoping I’d accept substitutes?
Fourth crack. He said they had to stop again because they were waiting for online-ordered materials to arrive. I asked my family if there was really nothing else to work on. They confirmed otherwise: the kitchen and ceiling weren’t finished for the second unit, and materials were available to continue.
When I messaged him, he admitted that they were working on another project and needed to focus on that because the owner wanted to move in.
I felt disrespected. I’d waited for them to be available for this project, yet they’d been working on another project without informing me. My family told me they’d started coming only a few days a week.
Fifth crack. When they painted the exterior, I asked if the faint silver was Boysen. My sister’s photos showed Davies. Without hesitation, he said, “Yes.” I was no longer surprised by his lies.
And this was just one example of many.
These cracks weren’t smoking guns yet, but they made me look closer. They formed a pattern that started to raise questions about the engineer’s professionalism. My uneasiness had turned into active investigation. I started studying the BOQ more carefully, checking measurements, comparing prices, asking my family to document everything on-site.
The Truth Unravels
I need to mention the Holy Spirit’s promptings during this time: “Check the BOQ. Study the BOQ. BOQ, BOQ…” And with every inflated item I discovered: “Look further. There’s more…”
When it finally clicked, I froze. For days, I couldn’t focus at work. I kept going back to the BOQ, rechecking the numbers. The betrayal was devastating because it was planned—he knew exactly what he was doing.
But I was also grateful. The Spirit’s guidance protected us from even greater loss. Without those promptings to investigate, the second floor would have followed the same fraudulent pattern.
According to his BOQ, floor plan, and message, the first floor was 85 square meters, and the second was 105.
Our actual floor areas? 60 and 84 square meters.
He charged me for 25 square meters that don’t exist on the first floor alone. But he wasn’t satisfied with just inflating the floor area—he also inflated the materials for that phantom space. The way he strategically placed numbers on the floor plan to hide this deception? That’s a story for another Dispatch.
I confronted him on a video call. He acted confused, kept looking at something, probably the BOQ. When I presented the facts, he fell silent. He apologized in almost a whisper.
He couldn’t explain the measurements. Couldn’t answer about the bloated materials. I reminded him that providing accurate measurements, quantities, prices, and markups was exactly why we hired him. Wrong measurements meant everything would be skewed.
Silence.
The Damage Control
The next day, he messaged me. At first, I almost believed his sincerity. But rereading it revealed otherwise.
He apologized for “betraying my trust” and “not consulting everything from the beginning.” I appreciated that he at least admitted the betrayal. But he didn’t name what he’d actually done—no mention of the inflated BOQ or the phantom square meters.
He said he was hurt and couldn’t sleep. Hurt? Because the truth came out? He even said my “words” were “nakatatak” in him, that he’d carry the lesson and never do it again.
Then came his gesture: “Ibalik ko na lang po yung professional fee ko since yun lang naman cash on hand na natira sa akin ate. I don’t deserve that fee for betraying you.”
This was meant to say, “See? I’m honest. I don’t deserve payment for betraying you.” But where did the rest of the money actually go? It’s like returning ₱5 and saying, “Look how sorry I am” after taking ₱500.
This wasn’t remorse. It was damage control.
I wanted to rant, but I replied politely, correcting his version. I wrote: “…It’s actually a complete deception from the very beginning. You chose deception over integrity.”
I told him returning money wasn’t necessary: “Only God knows what transpired ~ the real amount of the 60-square meter first floor... But if you insist that the 60-square meter is… after all the things I told you, that you’re willing to return the only cash left, then that’s between you and God na.”
I thanked him for apologizing and said I’d like to compare notes on my next vacation.
No reply.
The Inspection and the Accidental Confession
I went home in July to inspect.
While some parts were satisfactory, poor workmanship was evident throughout the units. I texted him immediately with pictures. He came to the house for a face-to-face conversation.
This could have been his moment of truth. I’d prepared my analysis with a rough estimate of the losses. I honestly didn’t want to compare notes. I just wanted him to admit it. But he insisted on his innocence and came prepared with a new ‘adjusted BOQ for actual expenses.’
I asked him to AirDrop it so I could study it further.
His reasoning for the ‘bloating of materials’?
He was afraid of running out of money during construction.
This was absurd. No one takes someone’s money and claims they’ll cover deficits. I asked, “If that’s your reason, why not inform the homeowner of any deficits? It’s not a problem you have to solve on your own. Why risk your integrity?”
No answer.
I asked if the new adjusted BOQ already included markups. He said, “No markups because we’re friends.”
And so I said, “So, ako pa pala ang may utang na loob sa’yo.”
He responded, “No…no…no…”
I also pointed out how expensive the labor prices were. He reasoned that they’re skilled workers. And so I asked, “If they’re skilled, why is the workmanship poor?”
No response.
I ended the conversation: “Ganito na lang, iappeal na lang natin to kay God lahat.”
He became even teary-eyed.
For a moment, I questioned everything. Was I wrong? Was I being too harsh? Had I misunderstood?
But here’s what he didn’t know: when he AirDropped that file, maybe he thought only one sheet would send. It actually included all the sheets.
Every single one.
As I reviewed them, I found he’d reverse-engineered the first-floor BOQ to match my remittances perfectly. He’d even adjusted his supervision fee to make the numbers work.
The original BOQ was already bloated, yet essential materials weren’t included. Another tactic to extract more money? If I hadn’t discovered the first discrepancy, I would have paid for all these “additional” materials. Since he was caught, the materials list magically grew longer. It was another cover-up.
But here’s the worst part. His ‘Actual Expenses BOQ’ made it look like he barely made any money, maybe even lost money. The message was clear: he did me a favor. “No markups because we’re friends,” remember? I should be grateful.
The reality? When I verified actual market prices, most materials were overpriced, especially those harder to verify. Some unbranded materials used were far more expensive than branded ones. And with no standard labor reference in the Philippines, his labor rates this time were pushed to the maximum. His “no markups because we’re friends” was actually the biggest markup of all.
Then I saw two sheets for the second floor, and they showed different amounts. The version I got in March had multiplied numbers. For example, the masonry section in that copy showed ₱96,675, while another sheet showed only ₱47,947.
What was that supposed to mean? You be the judge.
For me, this was a divine confirmation from God. It was no longer a suspicion but a fact with evidence. If he had been honest from the start, it would never have reached this point. He handed over his own conviction. This was God’s intervention.
What’s really concerning? How he manipulated the BOQ again and again, clearly assuming homeowners like me would never figure it out. But construction isn’t rocket science. It can be studied and understood. I’ll break down these specific tactics in future Dispatches so you know exactly what to watch for.
The Last Chance
I stayed silent about the files while still in the Philippines and even after returning to Japan. I still needed him to redo the poor workmanship and finish the kitchen cabinets—the final piece of the first floor. This was supposed to be his last chance to make things right.
But I was wrong. He brought his ‘cabinet guy,’ who took measurements without providing any documentation to my parents. We waited days for the estimate, and when it finally arrived, it lacked proper drawings and measurements.
Upon reviewing it, I was appalled! It had the same tactic of bloating materials and labor. The labor cost was 75% of the material cost. Are they going to make super customized cabinets for rental units?
I contacted him. Another video call. I was angry. I confronted him about the cabinet and eventually shared my analysis of the ‘adjusted BOQ’ and the other sheets.
He said sorry again. Promised not to do it again. He tried explaining again. I stopped him. Enough palusot!
After this conversation, I decided to document everything. It turned into 12 pages and counting. I realized this needed to be shared publicly for awareness.
This engineer is a Christian. A family friend. Trusted by my siblings and parents. Every social signal said he was safe to trust. Yet, every interaction revealed another lie.
If this can happen with someone this close to our family, it can happen to anyone. And no one deserves to be defrauded of their very own home.
That’s why Construction Pulis exists—so this never happens to you.
After they finished redoing the work, I sent him a respectful concluding email. I had wanted to detail everything point by point, but for someone who chose lies until the very end, it would have been wasted words.
He trusted more in his empire of lies to save himself than in God to save him by telling the truth.
A Different Ending
The cabinet story had a different ending. My parents found their own carpenter, an honest tradesman who provided fair labor costs. His quote was significantly lower than the engineer’s ‘cabinet guy.’
The contrast was clear.
Integrity doesn’t inflate prices. Deception does.
