06/01/2026
I tried to teach my son today that following the rules is how things get better. The LTO, however, taught him something else.
You see, when my son Daniel was ready to learn how to drive, I really wanted to do it right. I wanted him to not only know the rules of the road, but to understand and respect them. I enrolled him in the most comprehensive driving course in the country—the Honda Safety Driving School. Not the weekend crash course. The full program. 8am to 6pm, every single day, for a week. Classroom theory, practical driving, defensive driving, emergency procedures. The works.
Then I made him go through the entire LTO licensing process the legitimate way. No fixers. No shortcuts. No “padrino system.” I made that a point. If he was going to drive, he was going to earn it properly and be part of the solution, not the problem.
Fast forward a couple months. He finally gets his license and starts driving alone. He’s on Skyway Stage 3, doesn’t know the area well yet, realizes too late he needs to exit, and mistakenly crosses a double yellow line.
He calls me up in a bit of a panic. Tells me he’s been pulled over for an improper lane change. I know the area well; even if the signs around the area are confusing, he and I both know he made a mistake so I tell him: “Take the ticket. Go through the process and deal with the consequences properly.” So he does.
When he got home, I checked the ticket and noticed the Skyway officer classified it as “Reckless Driving” on top of the “improper lane change” or “disobeying traffic signs”—which is all it actually was.
For context: Reckless Driving isn’t just a heavier fine—it can also be a criminal offense under Philippine law that goes on permanent record. It requires “willful or wanton disregard for safety.” A new driver making an improper lane change at very low speed doesn’t meet that standard. What my son did was a traffic violation. It happens. Imagine if what the officer wrote affects his future employment, insurance, and travel. That’s not “following the rules”—that’s creating them on the spot.
That was the first red flag. I was concerned, but fine. I told him we’d deal with it.
Then came the LTO nightmare.
The ticket says we have 15 days to settle and retrieve the license. This happens a few days before Christmas. As we were traveling, we figured we’d handle it during the break between Christmas and New Year.
So I check the schedule online and make our way to East Ave from Alabang only to find out that they’re closed on Saturday for license retrieval.
We ask when they’re open. “Come back on the 5th,” they say. So we come back on the 5th. Today.
After several hours of being shuffled from office to office, counter to counter, and eventually paying the 2,000 peso fine, they tell us they won’t release the license without the OR/CR of the vehicle.
“But it wasn’t our car,” I explain. “And all the vehicle information is already written on the ticket. Can’t you just process it?”
“No. We need the printed OR/CR. And we need it xeroxed.”
I point out what I thought was obvious: “The LTO already has the plate number, make, model, and registered owner on the ticket. What does the OR/CR add? If this was about safety or accountability, you’d have everything you need.”
“We still need it,” they say.
The OR/CR requirement serves no enforcement purpose—it only exists to create another hoop. I kept my cool, but inside I was thinking that if we’re going by this logic, should I also provide receipts for the clothes he was wearing that day? They were, after all, part of the crime. At least by LTO’s standards.
They didn’t budge. Printed copy. Xeroxed.
We go through the hassle of getting it from the manufacturer since it wasn’t our vehicle and came back with the documents, only to be told:
“Sorry, you’re now past the 15-day deadline. So your son’s license is now automatically suspended for one month.”
“Wait,” I said. “You were closed for 8 days out of those 15. Surely it’s 15 working days?”
“No. Christmas, New Year’s Day, government holidays, weekends—they all count. The 15 days includes everything.”
Let that sink in.
The government gives you 15 days. Then closes for more than half of them. Demands documents that have nothing to do with the violation. Won’t accept digital copies in 2026. Then penalizes you for being late.
I’ve waited 10 years for a plate, and even longer for those stupid little stickers we paid for and never got. And LTO was never held accountable for that. In fact, they even have the audacity to apprehend countless motorists for driving without a plate that they cannot provide.
The most disappointing part of all of this is that I tried everything to teach my son to follow and respect the rules, accept full responsibility, and trust the system.
In return, we got:
- A cop who arbitrarily writes “reckless driving” for a lane violation, potentially criminalizing a teenage driver’s record
- A bureaucracy that creates friction by design—demanding irrelevant paperwork that serves no enforcement purpose
- Automatic penalties for delays that they caused
They may say they’re just following the rules, but when those rules create so much friction, so many arbitrary requirements, so many moving goalposts, the harsh reality here is that the fixers become the most rational choice.
I know I’m not alone here. I know many parents who try to raise their children right in a culture where shortcuts are normalized, only to discover that the bureaucracy doesn’t reward principle—it exhausts it.
What cuts the deepest here isn’t the wasted time or money. It’s knowing that my son watched me—the guy who preaches about driving discipline and road safety, who refused shortcuts, who paid for the best training, who insisted on doing everything legitimately—get crushed by the very system I told him to trust.
So what lesson does that teach him for next time?
He learned that inflated charges, arbitrary paperwork, and convenient holiday closures aren’t bugs—they’re features of a system designed to punish integrity and make corruption the path of least resistance.
