Ace Abalos served MCGI for decades. He baptized members, taught doctrine, and helped build the group’s presence in the USA. Now he’s speaking publicly for the first time.

Members call her “Ate,” a mirror to “Kuya,” a soft title that masks the weight it carries. She now presides over most operational lines, logistical decisions and internal business affairs. Her status is cemented by her dominant ownership of BMPI and related entities, a position that controls the media, property and captive-market businesses tied to MCGI.

When a regular member leaves MCGI, the default accusation is always the same—“TIKTIK.” But when a deacon with twenty-two years of service walks out and names the system itself as the problem, that script collapses on impact. The “tiktik” narrative doesn’t just lose its force. It exposes how fragile the whole MCGI Cares narrative actually is. Joel Alfonso’s account is not outside speculation. It is an insider’s map of how MCGI defends its corrupt leadership, reshapes doctrine and suppresses...