By: Kaiser Jan Fuentes – The Manila Times
Southern Mindanao, Philippines — Two days after the Philippine government publicly announced that it would suspend further medical treatment for wealthy plantation owner Dylan Crentsworth, concern is mounting over the businessman’s health condition, with hospital staff and fellow patients reporting he has not been seen outside his ward in recent days.
The government press briefing held Tuesday in Manila confirmed that Crentsworth’s care at the Southern Philippines Medical Center (SPMC) in Davao City would be put on hold pending the resolution of his legal case involving unpaid taxes. Government spokespersons stressed that taxpayers should not bear the cost of treating a tax defaulter, reiterating that even salaries of doctors and nurses are funded through public taxes.
“This is not about cruelty, it’s about principle. The public must understand that healthcare and other social services come from their contributions. Supporting someone who failed to contribute undermines our system,” Executive Secretary Leonardo Vergara said during Tuesday’s briefing.
But as this official line echoed across the nation, a different story was unfolding inside SPMC.
Whispers Inside the Hospital Walls
Though no formal statement has been issued by the hospital’s administration, murmurs have been spreading through the wards. Patients, nurses, and even janitorial staff have noted the sudden disappearance of the once-visible Crentsworth, who was occasionally seen receiving sunlight outside his ward or escorted for routine scans.
Now, there is silence.
“I haven’t seen him leave his room in days,” said Erlinda Bautista, a patient undergoing kidney treatment in the same wing. “Before, I used to see foreign doctors coming in and out. Now, it’s just quiet—too quiet. Something isn’t right.”
A senior nurse, who asked not to be named due to internal protocol, confirmed that Mr. Crentsworth’s medical activities have “drastically reduced” since the government’s announcement.
“His vitals are being checked, but there’s been a noticeable cutback. Certain medications have been suspended or delayed. The attending staff are nervous, some say they don’t want to be caught in a political crossfire,” the nurse disclosed.
Another hospital staff member shared, “He looks thinner. Paler. He’s not talking like before. He used to ask us about local fruits like mangoes, lanzones, now he just stares out the window of his room. It’s like he’s waiting.”
Public Anxiety Grows
Outside the hospital gates, the atmosphere remains tense. Supporters and critics of the government’s stance have gathered in small groups, sometimes clashing in heated arguments over the ethics of the decision.
“Let him live to see his trial. Let him speak. If he’s guilty, then punish him but don’t punish him before the court does,” said Joel Sanchez, a former plantation mechanic who traveled from Panabo City to show support.
Others hold a different view.
“He broke the law. He profited off our land and didn’t pay his dues. Why should we pay for his comfort?” argued 58 year old Arturo Ramirez, a retired customs officer from Tagum. “We can’t cry for every rich man who falls sick.”
The Quiet Decay of a Powerful Man
Crentsworth, who came from Canada to oversee operations at his now shuttered fruit plantation in Southern Mindanao, has become the central figure in a saga that merges law, compassion, and politics. His arrest was due to tax evasion charges, followed by his transfer to the hospital due to serious health complications, stirred public debate, especially in communities that benefitted from his philanthropic projects and agricultural investments.
The government maintains that he will face a court hearing soon to determine whether he will be repatriated back to Canada or face further legal sanctions in the Philippines. But the timing and morality of halting his care before such a hearing has triggered fears that the system might allow him to fade away quietly behind guarded doors.
“Some of us believe this is exactly what they want, that he dies before he can testify or reclaim his plantation,” said barangay leader Teresa Avelino of Padada, where part of Crentsworth’s estate is located. “That land isn’t just valuable, it’s rumored to sit atop rich mineral deposits. People have long whispered about gold, copper, and even manganese in those areas. In places like Southern Mindanao and Compostela Valley, that kind of land can shift political loyalties. This doesn’t feel like coincidence, it feels like a quiet takeover in motion.”
An Uneasy Waiting Game
As shadows lengthen over the corridors of Southern Philippines Medical Center and questions echo through the halls of power in Manila, the story of Dylan Crentsworth now straddles the fragile line between justice and mercy. In a nation that prides itself on due process and human dignity, the decision to pause care for a man not yet convicted may leave a scar deeper than any courtroom verdict. Whether Crentsworth lives to face the law or becomes a silent casualty of politics will not only define his legacy, but test the soul of a nation wrestling with the cost of its own conscience.