Why aren’t lifetime PWD IDs a thing yet?

There’s more to discounts and privileges than meets the eye when it comes to PWDs in the Philippines. (Photo: Philippine News Agency )

I got my driver’s license at the tail-end of 2019. That was three years ago, which means I would have to renew it in two years—a pain, really, given that applying for government documents and IDs here means dealing with long lines and the occasional grouchy clerk. I do acknowledge it’s necessary though. Being able to drive is a privilege and not a right. Besides, the next time I do, my license will be valid for 10 years by then.

Now imagine having to go through the same, if not greater, lengths to renew an ID that proves you have a disability—every five years at that, which is even shorter than the validity of the newly issued driver’s licenses. Unlike driving skills, I don’t think a physical or mental handicap is something that needs validation every now and then.

Pushing for the PWD ID’s lifetime validity was the main point of discussion of the House of Representatives special committee on PWDs last Wednesday, November 23. During the panel, five bills were proposed to amend Section 32 of Republic Act No. 7277, also known as the Magna Carta for Disabled Persons.

The cost of disability

As it is, the process of ID renewal is tedious and costly for many applicants. For instance, Philippine Disability Forum lead convener Richard Arceño said an assessment for a developmental or learning disability could cost around P20,000 to P25,000. This doesn’t include other miscellaneous costs on the day of renewal itself: transportation, food, unpaid leave, paid assistance—the list goes on. 

And that’s on top of the cost of living with a disability every day. For some mental health illnesses, daily treatment could cost as much as P3,000 or more. And this isn’t like the flu you can cure with one or two ibuprofens either. Conditions like bipolar disorder require medication for the rest of your life.

For households raising children with disabilities, they could spend an average of 15% of their income on healthcare every year. A study by the Philippine Institute for Development Studies revealed it could cost about P15,225.66 annually. This is “a significantly huge burden for some of the PWD households, particularly those who fall below the poverty line,” the researchers said.

In the Philippines, a PWD ID grants individuals many benefits. This includes discounts in restaurants, public transportation, and public health facilities. Some local government units (LGUs) offer additional benefits, like free medication and low-cost care available to residents in Quezon City.

Government-mandated benefits can’t entirely prevent discrimination against PWDs. However, there is no guarantee that people wouldn’t take advantage of these privileges either. After all, integrity is a two-way street.

Certain safeguards, such as mechanisms to prevent abuse of lifetime IDs and shorter validity for temporary disabilities, were notably missing from some of the bills proposed to Congress last Wednesday. But again, compromise is also a two-way street.

Real-life handicaps

The panel discussion unearthed deeper structural roadblocks for the PWD community. The clamor for lifetime ID is just the beginning, revealing that a centralized, national database for all PWDs is impossible at this point. (Anyone else got their physical PhilSys IDs yet?)

Another thing is the lack of facilities for PWDS across the country, which further limits access to these services (while having to commute just to get around in these times). Section 40 of the Magna Carta for Disabled Persons states that “local government units shall promote the establishment of organizations of disabled persons in their respective territorial jurisdictions.” This includes initiating “undertakings that shall enhance the health, physical fitness, and the economic and social well-being of disabled persons.” 

That’s tough luck for local municipalities without their own PWD offices. If there is a PWD office near you though, they might just ask for ID requirements different from the next municipality’s.

Carmen Zubiaga, former National Council on Disability Affairs (NCDA) chief and a PWD herself (you might recognize her from the previous elections), said that the need to extend the IDs’ validity was also due to “bureaucratic practices within the LGUs.”

“When you go to the LGU, they have a lot of requirements, including voter ID, so that makes it hard for every PWD to include [his or her] ID,” she added.

Are PWDs the real priority?

During the elections, I personally assisted my cousin, born with cerebral palsy, fill out his ballot. He voted for the P3PWD party list through my encouragement. The party list won a seat but was faced with a hurdle when the Supreme Court barred representative Rowena Guanzon’s entry to Congress last June. Guanzon has since resumed her duties and even questioned where the national special education budget went in a recent tweet.

Some lawmakers have also raised concern over the budget allotted for PWDs—which, BTW, is P72.4 million this 2022, down from P104.6 million last year. Just a few months ago, Senator Imee Marcos threatened to take away the NCDA’s measly P20.4-million budget because they fell short on their duties. (We don’t hear her saying the same about her own brother’s P4.5-billion confidential fund, but I digress.)

I’m not sure how making life easier for, say, my cousin or a friend diagnosed with general anxiety disorder would be considered a budget “concern.” While these systemic issues do require considerable time, resources, and not to mention, political will, to address, more disability-friendly policies could drastically improve the lives of approximately 12% of the country’s population. To scale, that’s about the same amount of people living in the National Capital Region.

Free cake on your birthday is nice, but that’s only one small thing the people in power can do for our PWDs. This only touches the surface of what they truly need—from financial aid to accessible infrastructure and ultimately, a more secure place in society. Most times, the best I could do myself is not take up their designated parking slots at malls.