Pinoy, the second time around

What is the cost of freedom?

For Alfred Lehnert Jr., a German national who has been living in the Philippines for almost 14 years now, freedom has a steep price tag – almost a million dollars in life savings, three houses in Cebu and a family.

Short of losing even the shirt on his back, Lehnert lost almost everything he held precious, most especially his only daughter Nikki, now 11 years old and living with her mother in another country.

Lehnert, a civil engineer from Germany, first came to the Philippines in 1993 with his wife to settle in Cebu City, in part because of doctors’ advice for him to live in a tropical country.

As with many foreigners who chose to settle here with their Filipina wives, Lehnert says he was “welcomed with great hospitality.”  They settled in Cebu, had a daughter, built houses and had a life surrounded by the warmth of an extended family.

“My daughter learned Bisaya and was happy with all the attention and love for children in a country, which is hard to find in Europe,” Lehnert says in an El Shaddai prayer meeting, where he was asked to share his life story.

“I came to this country…with all my love and hope for my new homeland,” he says, adding during the interview with STARweek, that he also brought with him other foreign investors who were convinced that investing in the Philippines is a good business proposition.

But the fairytale took a bizarre turn and headed for hell instead.

On Sept. 27, 2002, while following up papers for his visa, Lehnert was arrested in Mandaue City by virtue of a mission order from the Bureau of Immigration to verify his immigration status and activities in the Philippines. The “verification process” lasted 17 months, during which time Lehnert languished in jail, was divorced by his wife, and lost all his property in the Philippines, including custody of his daughter.

Lehnert says he was denied bail, his case was never heard in court, and worse, the cases and complaints lodged against him piled up, reducing further his chances for release.

He recounts that a highly organized criminal group had tried to extort money from him in exchange for his liberty. But he fought back and used all legal means to free himself from what he says was “arbitrary detention based on fabricated charges.”

No foreigner must be detained for months or years on grounds of minor administrative charges, he stresses. If they violated the laws of the country, they must be deported”– as in most countries – but not detained. The right to bail while the charges are being heard in court is also a basic human right that should be accorded to foreigners, he says. And everybody must have a day in court to rebut the charges.

“How can a foreigner be arrested and detained indefinitely without due legal process granted to the accused?” Lehnert asks.

On Feb. 26, 2004, the Supreme Court ordered Lehnert’s release from arbitrary detention after finding that he was “illegally arrested and detained without warrant, without substantial proof and without due process.” He was released in April 2004, one of the few foreigners who was ever released by the high court in 60 years.

Staying for good

With no money, no family and no relatives here, Lehnert made a most surprising decision. He chose to stay in the Philippines for good.

“Most foreigners released from detention leave the country because they are afraid of being re-arrested,” he says. But in his case, what more did he have to lose? So he decided to stay and spend the rest of his life helping other foreign nationals in detention.

“I never lost my faith in God and the belief in myself to escape from a hopeless situation,” he says. “In fact, my way was blessed with so much success to give more hope to others with less chances.”

Notwithstanding the months he spent in a detention facility with 200 other detainees, fed
only twice a day with what he says was food with “absolutely no nutritional content or value,” no safe drinking water, no beds or utensils and hostile armed guards, Lehnart chose to look at the bright side of things.

During his high-profile legal battle and advocacy, he earned the support of government officials, high-ranking members of the Catholic hierarchy, the diplomatic community and friends he said he could never have met if his life had not turned for the worse, including then Interior and Local Government Secretary Angelo Reyes, whom he met at a briefing for the repeal of Executive Order 287. At one time, no less than Archbishop Ricardo Cardinal Vidal had allowed him to speak on his prison experience.

While in detention and after his release, Lehnert says he studied the Philippine immigration law with the help of San Carlos University Professor Alex Monteclar “to lend a helping hand to foreigners in detention either through appeals for humanitarian grounds or simple evaluation of the law.”

One case he helped resolve was that of a 68-year-old professor from Papua New Guinea who was very sick and had been detained in the country for five years. After his release from detention, he was sent home to Port Moresby through the help of donations.

“A little help could go a long way,” he says, adding that there are around 160 foreigners detained at the detention facilities of the Bureau of Immigration. This does not include yet the foreigners convicted by legal courts and detained at the new Bilibid Prisons in Muntinlupa. His focus though is primarily foreigners detained for minor administrative violations.

After a year of freedom, and with no compensation received for his illegal detention,
Lehnert’s life story was made into a documentary and showed on German television.

Shortly after, he was appointed as a consultant to the European Parliament to give advice on the plight of foreigners living in the Philippines, how the immigration law is implemented and what governments should do to help their citizens.

Recognizing his work in the country and because of his knowledge and deep understanding of Philippine immigration law, Lehnert was also invited by the Philippine Congress in December 2006 to be part of a technical working group that will craft a new immigration act that aims to attract more investors to the country.

Sadly, he says, the Philippine Immigration Act of 1940 that is still in use today is outmoded and needs urgent revisions.

A new chapter

By embracing a new life mission, Lehnert is now fully immersed in his advocacy for more justice and tolerance for foreigners living in the country.

“My heart has no hate for our people, they work hard for their families,” he says, referring to Filipinos in general, whom he now considers his own people.

Fortunately, Alfred Lehnert’s story does have a happy ending. As a fitting closure to heal the deep wounds of the past, Lehnert met a woman he later married, with whom he hopes to rebuild his life and start another family, this time hopefully to live happily ever after.

During his wedding last month, Sec. Reyes stood as one of the sponsors, along with the couple’s staunchest supporters. Isn’t he afraid of marrying another Filipina after the bitter separation from his first wife?

“Of course not,” he says. No two people are the same and he has only good words for his new bride, who is a graduate of the Philippine National Police Academy (PNPA) and was even awarded a scholarship to the Netherlands.

He calls her his “general,” while she refers to him as her “angel of justice.”