Registering to Vote in the Philippines as a Filipino Dual Citizen during the COVID-19 Pandemic
From Tim in Manila
Because I’m a dual citizen here in the Philippines, I figured that I should be able to register to vote for the upcoming 2022 presidential election. I had no idea how crazy this whole process would turn out to be.
As an American, I’m fairly used to being able to “Google” the information I need and I find it with ease, especially when it comes to things so consequential as national elections. However, such is not the case here in the Philippines, and after being left without any idea on where I was supposed to show up for registration after looking through The Commission on Election (COMELEC) website, I resorted to asking some friends. They suggested that I just go to the COMELEC office in my city because I “should” be able to register there.
First Attempt
So, the next day, I showed up to the COMELEC office at around 9AM, only to be met with a line that stretched down the block and a security guard who informed me that my “district” wasn’t scheduled for registration until the next day at the adjacent mall (COMELEC has been using satellite registration sites set up in malls to register voters). Each of the cities here in Metro Manila have several districts that are each composed of numerous “barángays” (the smallest administrative division in the Philippines), and my district wasn’t scheduled for voter’s registration that day. Of course, this information was nowhere to be found on the COMELEC website.
Second Attempt
I tried again the next day. My friends advised me to line up much earlier, so I showed up to “SM North”, the mall allotted for my district’s voter registration, at 5AM. This time, I was met with an even longer line that snaked around the entire building. The problem here is that, due to COVID protocols, COMELEC has mandated that only up to 300 people are allowed to register per day at their satellite sites. So if you happen to be the 301st person, even after showing up at 5AM, you won’t be allowed to register. Even after showing up at 5AM, it looked like I was pretty far from making it into the first 300. But the security guards, police, and mall staff were unclear as to whether or not I and my neighbors in line would or would not make it into the 300 count. They kept saying we would have to wait for COMELEC officials to arrive and make the official count, but at the same time, they started telling people they should go home and try again tomorrow. I and my fellow aspiring voters got frustrated by their lack of clarity, and were worried that they were just scaring people into leaving so that they could reduce the number of people in line for social distancing’s sake.
I began to lose my temper, not only because I showed up so early and still might not be able to register, but because the others in line did as well, and for them it’s not so easy to take another day off work and pay for the commute to and from the registration site. I started arguing with a few security guards and mall staff, and because I was losing my temper, I began to raise my voice. Then, a police officer, armed with an M-16, approached me and started to yell back at me. In the moment, my adrenaline and frustration kept me from being afraid that, at any moment, that police officer might lose his self-control and use his weapon (such incidents have happened here recently in the Philippines, with innocent people being murdered by police on the spot due to an argument). I had never been that close to a person armed with an automatic weapon, much less a police officer who was confronting me. But, after a few exchanges and going “live” on my Instagram feed to record the altercation, I calmed down and we settled the issue by saying we’ll all just have to wait for the COMELEC officials to arrive and make the final count. After they left, I calmed down and started to realize the gravity of what had just happened and could have happened. It really is different here in the Philippines, and one can’t be so quick to complain like an American.
After about 3 more hours, I and my companions were told we wouldn’t make the count and that we should come back the next day. Again, I had another altercation with those in charge, this time with officers from the Quezon City “Discipline Task Force” in charge of God knows what and an actual COMELEC official (one official is tasked with checking the documents of 300+ individuals for approval in allowing them inside the mall for the “actual” line to register). The dispute was over whether or not our district was actually scheduled to vote the next day, the officer was telling us it was but the big sign in front of the mall that he told us to look at for the schedule told us that we weren’t scheduled to register again until the following week. Finally, one of the “Task Force” officials showed me a picture of a supposedly updated schedule that informed us that we were in fact scheduled for the next day as well. So, left without any other options, we left.
Strike three, and you’re … IN!
On my third attempt, I showed up at 2AM later that night. I was told by police that we could line up at any time despite the ongoing curfew because voter’s registration was an “exception”. However, after just a few minutes upon arrival, I and the around 30 plus people already in line, were told we had to leave because there was a curfew and we weren’t allowed to line up yet. I was incredulous. Thankfully, we were still able to line up just outside the mall entrance. However, after about an hour or so, a huge group of people from two barángays (Payatas and Batasan) in our district arrived and informed us that we had to give priority to them in line. They had officials from their barangay there to help them and no one from my barángay (Commonwealth) nor any COMELEC official was there to defend my spot in line. So I and many others went from being in the 20-30’s in line to 200+ within a single hour. I showed up at 2AM only to be in the same spot I was the previous day.
But, thanks be to God, I was still able to make it within the 300 count. I spent 11.5 hours in line. After 11.5 hours of moving back and forth in the line to enforce social distancing, after being misinformed by the COMELEC officer at the entrance that I brought the wrong ID and had to go get 3 photocopies made of the correct one only to have my initial ID that he rejected later accepted by the COMELEC officers actually in charge of the registration process, after 3 frustrating attempts, I finally registered to vote as a Filipino citizen in the Republic of the Philippines.
And what about my neighbors?
As crazy as this whole process was, the most frustrating part is how anti-poor voter registration has become in this time of pandemic. Though all the officials claim that the restrictions like a daily 300 person voter registration cap are to prevent the spread of COVID, if they really cared about preventing this virus from spreading they could have: moved voters registration entirely online and/or set up registration satellites in every barángay. Instead, they’ve dumped hundreds and hundreds of people in a handful of voter registration’s site with only a chance of being able to register. For someone like me who has the resources, time and energy to keep coming back and line up from 2AM to 1:30PM, at least registration was possible. But, as of right now, the same can’t be said for the many others without such privileges.
