Going through bureaucracies is a nightmare in the Philippines. Imagine having to travel in the early hours of the morning only to discover that you lack a specific requirement, or you have insufficient qualifications, or there is a new step in the process that you only know of.
These were the harsh realities depicted in the film 2 Valid IDs by director Ma-an Asuncion-Dagñalan.
The film follows Sylvia, portrayed by Marietta Subong, as she wades through the winding traffic of Metro Manila seeking to find aid for her husband Ramon, who is hospitalized for chronic respiratory illness.
The film ponders the premise of Sylvia, a poor farmer from the province, having to apply for two valid identification cards in order to claim the financial support sent to her by her families abroad.
What should have been a straightforward process turns into a desperate race against time. Having to seek medication for Ramon in the metro since medical care is insufficient in the provinces, Sylvia goes from one place to another, confronting the inconveniences of a system that demands more from people who already have so little to give. Every office she visits, every document she needs to secure, and every delay she encounters becomes another obstacle between her family and the assistance they desperately need. Ramon dies in the end before Sylvia can even claim the money intended to help him.
The film is a devastating reminder of how the system that fails to provide the needs of the people it vowed to serve.
For many Filipinos, seeking medical attention is not simply a matter of visiting a hospital and receiving treatment.
It means calculating whether there is enough money for transportation, laboratory tests, medicines and hospital bills.
It means deciding whether to borrow money, ask relatives for help, or postpone treatment altogether.
For those who depend on public healthcare, the struggle may also involve long waiting times, limited facilities, understaffed hospitals and administrative requirements that can make an already difficult experience even more burdensome.
And when financial assistance is available, accessing it may require another set of documents, certifications, and clearances. People who are already burdened by illness are expected to navigate procedures that demand time, mobility, resources, and a level of administrative literacy they may not readily possess.
The cruel irony is that assistance is often most difficult to access for those who need it most.
How can a sick person be expected to wait patiently for a process to run its course when every passing day could mean a worsening condition?
And what does it mean for a government to promise social protection when the people who need it are made to overcome so many obstacles before they can claim it?
These questions expose a fundamental contradiction in the delivery of public services: the existence of assistance does not necessarily mean that the services provided are accessible. A service that exists but cannot deliver in a timely and responsive manner is a service that has failed the people who need it.
The state cannot claim to protect its people merely because assistance is available. It must also ensure that such services reach them when it matters. Yet, instead of confronting these systemic failures, we often find ourselves praising the Filipinos’ capacity to endure them.
We praise the mother who works multiple jobs to provide for her children, the student who walks long distances because transportation is too expensive, and the worker who continues to labor despite conditions that threaten their well-being. We call them resilient, resourceful, and determined. Their perseverance becomes a source of national pride, a testament to the Filipino spirit that supposedly triumphs over every hardship.
But no one shall be celebrated for having to thread the needle.
There is a difference between recognizing people’s strength and romanticizing the suffering that demands it. Resilience can help people survive adversity, but it should never become an excuse for allowing that adversity to persist.
When we celebrate Filipinos for overcoming obstacles that should not exist in the first place, we risk shifting attention away from the institutions responsible for creating or perpetuating those obstacles.
And this is what director Ma-an Asuncion-Dagñalan is trying to expose in 2 Valid IDs.
Sylvia should not have needed extraordinary determination to access financial assistance for her husband. She should not have had to navigate an exhausting maze of requirements while racing against the possibility of losing Ramon.
Her struggle is not a story of admirable perseverance. It serves as a reminder of the institutional failures that made such perseverance necessary.
2 Valid IDs leaves us with an uncomfortable question: How many more people must struggle like Sylvia before we recognize that the problem is not their inability to navigate the system, but the system’s failure to serve them?
We deserve a country where healthcare is accessible before an illness becomes a tragedy, where social services arrive before a family is pushed to desperation, and where public institutions do not demand extraordinary effort from ordinary people just to deliver what is rightfully theirs.
And maybe that is the reality worth celebrating. (davaotoday.com)
(AJ Lozano, 22, is a student-leader and writer-activist based in Davao City. He graduated with a degree in Applied Mathematics from University of the Philippines Mindanao. He currently serves as the 2nd Nominee of the UP Office of the Student Regent.)
