She writes: “I salute the author of this 2003 law and President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo for signing it.”

Alas, her euphoria was shortlived.

Typical of Philippine bureaucracy, she soon found herself mired in a series of  hurdles and ordeals, particularly in the Manila Civil Registry Office.

Ergo, by exposing her “distressing experience”, she hopes she “might contribute towards ridding government offices of cumbersome procedures that hamper ameliorating the plight of people seeking their services.”

Her long story (three pages, single space) began in October 2003 when she acquired the list of 10 requirements from the bureau of immigration, all of which were “easy” until she got to  item # 6: “Birth certificate, authenticated by the National Statistics Office (NSO) in security paper (SECPA)”.
At the NSO, she was told that the 81-year-old birth certificate issued by the maternity hospital she was born in, “would not do at all” because it had no registration number nor did it note her father’s nationality.

Yet, Ms. Pinga says, the “laminated document, yellow and crumbly with age, had served documentation purposes during her stay (38 years) in the United States.”

Nonetheless, Ms. Pinga went back to the NSO to apply for the required authenticated copy.
Alas again, the NSO responded by mail saying they have no record of her birth. She would have to go to the civil registry office of Manila.

“The registry offices spilled over the hallways teeming with document seekers like me, and like me looked glum and sweaty,” she relates.

She went through all the required steps as directed, paid the fee, and went home to await the response to her application.

Bad news: the Manila Civil Registry didn’t have any record of her birth either.

She now had  to apply for “delayed registration” which took “8 requirements” including marriage certificate of parents, baptismal certificate, school record, voter’s affidavit, employment record, SSS or GSIS, and xeros copy of ID or passport.

On the advice of a immigration official, she took her case to the Civil Registrar herself ... which she did after a long wait because of the extended “lunch break.”

After much pleading with “humility and meekness,” Ms. Pinga was able to convince the unsmiling registrar to cross off two of the 8 requirements: baptismal certificate and voter’s affidavit.

It was by now June 2004, 9 months since Ms. Pinga began her quest for dual citizenship. She was advised to get her record of employment at the Quezon City Schools Personnel Office.

At the QC Schools Personnel Office, Ms. Pinga was informed that the original office had been gutted by fire and that no records had survived.

Still, she managed to pass the “truth test” rattling off names and dates as her “82–year–old brain” could remember. But, dear, dear, the superintendent to sign the certificate was, well, not in the office ... could she go back tomorrow to get it instead?

“What other choice was there?” she asks ruefully.

On June 24, armed with the certificate, Ms. Pinga rushed  to the Manila City Hall only to be told it was Manila Day, a city holiday!

At this point, I might have thrown the towel in but no, Ms. Pinga surged on.
On June 30, she submitted the certification of employment, hopeful that this was it. Oh no, she needed a document with her parents’ name!

Nobody can blame Ms. Pinga for raising voice as she protested that her parents’ names were on the birth certificates of her siblings that she had previously submitted.

Alas, she would have to plead her case AGAIN with the civil registrar who, of course, was “out for lunch.” The lady returned from lunch at 2:30 p.m. and after much ado, assured Ms. Pinga that she would get the certificate of delayed registration.

To make this agonizingly long story of woe short, Ms. Pinga finally got her 10 required documents to acquire dual citizenship. It had taken almost 10 months, 77 days and 8 trips from her brother’s abode in Alabang to Manila.

Friends and kin have told her that she would have shortened her agony if only she had made “lagay” but the upright Ms. Pinga is adamant: “I am sincerely glad I had not wavered in my resolve to desist from contributing towards perpetuating a practice so patiently egregious.” (I must admit I had to look that up in the dictionary.)

“My story ends in a happy note. Armed with the ten required documents to acquire dual citizenship, it took only one day at the Bureau of Immigration to process my papers and a week’s wait to receive my Certificate of Retention and Reacquisition of Filipino citizenship. Kudos to Commissioner Alipio Fernandez.”

Ms. Pinga ends with a prayer that GMA succeeds in her intent to streamline government offices. I would start with the Manila civil registrar.