Last Thursday, I found myself faced with the unpleasant prospect of applying for an NBI clearance. Although some friends have said that it was not as hard as it used to be, I could not help but be anxious knowing that like many other Filipinos, I happen to have the same name like several others and at least two of those namesakes have criminal records.
In addition to that, I would be coming from the other side of town, which meant that the whole day would be completely spent in getting an NBI clearance. By GOD’s grace and I mean by GOD’s grace, I felt like I was being directed at every crucial move.
In spite of the strong temptation to bring a car, I found myself opting to use the MRT and then the LRT towards the NBI Headquarters on Taft Avenue. That was the first “guided move” of the day. The first stupid idea was to go to Taft. Yes, as I discovered too late, the NBI no longer gives clearances from the Taft office, not for the last seven years. They have a bunch of satellite and field offices most of which are conveniently located in malls.
Thanks to the polite man in a short barong at the NBI gate on Taft, I learned that I needed to go to Victory Mall at Monumento. It was already lunch-time and the idea of travelling even further was not appealing, but as I climbed the LRT stairs a handmade sign directed me “To Monumento”. It was the second “guided move” that I simply followed.
Any first timer, who goes to the NBI office in Monumento, would surely be overwhelmed and daunted by the hundreds of people forming what seemed like a kilometer long line. But don’t despair, in spite of it all, the system works and people go through faster than one can imagine.
In two hours, I managed to fill up the form, had it double-checked, paid the 115 pesos processing fee, At this point I was sure I had Guardian Angels opening doors for me. Every step of the way, the line I would be in would always get shorter as additional windows opened unexpectedly.
Soon enough I got to play the “piano” as in had my fingerprints taken. The finger print officer acted very indifferent until I complimented him on his initiative of providing “wipes” for those who did not like the ink residue.
He smiled and advised me that I surely had a number of namesakes and that I should look up Maam Elsa at 504 if I encounter any problems. I did not think much of it but I said Thank you and moved on and had my photo taken, went through the Data processing unit where a nice lady also suggested that I go see “Maam Elsa” to avoid further delays.
As I discovered, Maam Elsa Rollon was the person at the top and as I “eaves dropped” while waiting for my turn, I discovered a kind and accommodating professional who was constantly giving advice or assisting someone.
I informed her of my previous experience in getting an NBI clearance where a namesake has a hold departure order as well as record with the NBI. After all was said and done, Maam Elsa told me I could come back for my clearance that I urgently needed for an unscheduled trip.
With three hours to wait, I spent time observing how NBI personnel did their work and I was quite surprised how most of them showed warmth, empathy, and a willingness to help the many other people who were running around the fifth floor like lost lamb.
In my case, I discovered 28 years after the fact that an entry was made into “my file” for something I had no recollection, was never summoned or subpoenaed for and no one ever discussed or complained to me personally.
Thank GOD and thanks to Ms. Majelende Tirante at the Quality Control Section of the NBI, I learned that it was probably a minor traffic incident, which a policeman reported and was filed by a Fiscal but since there were no complainants or parties of interest, nothing was ever done about it which is why it was still in the records. The solution of course was to issue the corresponding affidavit, which a kind and well-dressed lawyer outside the area provided.
We take these things for granted but it makes a whole world of difference to others when people show understanding or favors us with an act of kindness and sincerely serves us.
After clearing up the whole matter, my last stop was at the desk of “Jun” who was very soft-spoken, but quite courteous. As I thanked the two people at the Quality Control Section I asked Jun for a calling card and asked him to write the complete names of Maam Elsa and Ms. Tirante, which he obliged.
As I scanned the names on the card, I was struck as I read Jun’s name: Limgas C. Daluma, Jr. and when I looked at his title or position, I read: Public Servant.
The simplicity of it all struck me.
In the business or corporate world, many people actively create titles that add to their stature or in negative situations, try to make them sound more important than they really are.
In fact, most people who are at entry-level positions often have the longest titles or simply use a higher title than they possess. For instance a sales person uses General Sales Agent. In the reverse, the higher the position, the shorter the title: C.E.O, President, Boss, GOD.
When I went to the NBI, I met people who proudly gave meaning and life to the title “Public Servant” because all the people I saw and met at the NBI at Victory Mall truly served the public. Perhaps we should all try to live up to such an honorable title: PUBLIC SERVANT.
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