ven with just 25 students in a class, it’s easy to skip calling a few names for recitation when you’re just shuffling classcards randomly. Those who escape being called are considered the “lucky” ones—but all luck runs out eventually.
“Where’s Mister Jefferd Roxas Layao?”
“Present, sir!”
“Haven’t I ever called you to recite before, Mr. Layao?”
“Not yet, sir, but I’m always ready!” this bright-faced fellow, who defied the odds of getting called to recite for months, said.
“You have a very political-sounding middle name there, Jefferd. Are there any more interesting things to know about ‘Roxas’?” I asked.
“Yes, sir! It’s NOT my middle name. It’s my second name, I have a two-part first name—Jefferd Roxas—that’s why my friends call me ‘Jeffrox’ for short, sir.“
“Really? That’s interesting. So what is your middle name, Jeffrox?”
“Laquiza, sir!” his classmates are starting to giggle. Miss Deema Niwala, who was sitting behind him, was starting to stomp her feet lightly as if anticipating something funny.
“Now, wait a minute,” I said, “are you telling me your full name is ‘Jeffrox Laquiza Layao??” the whole class burst out laughing.
“That’s what my father named me!” Jeffrox said proudly.
“WHAT is your father’s name, Mike Hanopol??” I asked. The whole class is roaring with laughter now, Miss Deema is at full gallop doing her feet-stomping routine.
“Never mind, don’t answer that question,” I just said, “I’ll just assume that because you ARE a jeproks, you must have inherited a strong 1970’s hippie influence from your father.”
Deema interrupted, as usual without being called, “Oh, no, sir! Jeffrox is the farthest thing from a hippie! He’s a total prude, look at him. He has short hair, he shaves, brushes his teeth, he even takes a bath everyday!” Deema said, barely completing her sentence before erupting in more guffaws she couldn’t hold back.
“What kind of hippie takes a bath everyday??” I said, “you are a disgrace to your hippie stereotype, Jeffrox!”
My Alpha Class was roaring in laughter so hard, I had to bang the blackboard to restore decorum in class.
“Alright focus, people! FOCUS!” I said, “this evening I want to clarify a concept that many ordinary Filipinos have a lot of misgivings about, and that is: what it means to have a document NOTARIZED. What is a Notary Public, what does he do, what is the effect when something is notarized yada yada. Alright, Jeffrox, can you tell us, what is a ‘PUBLIC INSTRUMENT?’”
“A traditional gangsa that anybody can play, sir?” Jeffrox played around a bit. I know he knows the answer, so I gave him a stone-cold stare to flush out the real answer.
“I’m sorry, sir…a ‘public instrument’ is any document that is kept in a public archive. All information contained in such a document belongs to the public domain which means anyone from the public may have access to such information and may even obtain a copy of that document as a matter of right,” Jeffrox said.
“That’s correct. Now where is this ‘public archive’? Where can one go and research about a public instrument?” I asked next.
“It exists in three places, sir. In the files of the notary public who notarized it, in the records of the Clerk-of-court of the place where the notary public is commissioned, and for documents ten years or older in the microfilm archives of the National Library,” said Jeffrox.
“Very good,” I said, “now who is this Notary Public that you keep mentioning?”
“Well, here in the Philippines, sir, a Notary Public is a LAWYER who has been commissioned by the court to authenticate the authorship of documents and administer oaths for that purpose, for a limited but renewable period of two years,” said Jeffrox.
“Are all lawyers notaries public, Jeffrox?”
“No, sir. But all notaries public are lawyers. Some lawyers, like you sir, don’t bother to renew their notarial commissions after they expired,” Jeffrox said, letting out a little bit of private information only my students know.
“Well, in my own defense,” I began to explain, “I spent a princely sum of money going down to the Supreme Court to get my clearances, filing my petition in court, and everything only to notarize 10 documents in 2 years. So it’s been cost impractical.”
Deema stood up, “We’ve always wondered about that, sir, why don’t you make a decent living out of notarizing documents, like many lawyers we know out there?”
“Well, they notarize a lot of documents. I don’t,” I said.
“But why, sir? Why do you notarize so few documents?” Deema chased the matter some more.
“Well, if you must know—and this is part of what I want to discuss tonight—I discourage people from having everything notarized if it’s not necessary. The other day a parent asked me to notarize her daughter’s ‘Field Trip Liability Waiver Form’ because without it the school would not allow her daughter to join a field trip. I said my commission is expired but I don’t recommend that she go to another notary, who I’m pretty sure would gladly notarize it.” The class went “Oooooooh…..!”
“Jeffrox, explain to your classmates why you think my action was correct.” I said.
“Yes, sir. You were correct because the school’s liability, if anything untoward happens to the child during that field trip—that cannot be waived. School teachers are in ‘locu parenti’ standing, meaning they act as substitute parents. So they are always responsible, even if the parents release them from that responsibility through a waiver. That waiver is invalid, sir, because it’s contrary to law and public policy.”
“And an invalid waiver is what, Jeffrox?”
“It’s defeasible, sir, it's no good. It’s a mere scrap of paper.”
“Would notarizing that waiver make any difference?” I followed up.
“No, sir. Notarization cannot add validity to an invalid instrument. But it is an element of validity for SOME documents,” Jeffrox answered.
“Explain that, Miss Kata—where are you??”
“I’m here, sir!” my English-major student stood up, “if the law specifically requires a document to be a ‘public instrument’ then notarization is compulsory, like in contracts, deeds, conveyances—anything that might require proving under the Statute of Frauds, sir.”
“Let’s not get too deep here, Miss Kata, but WHAT is the Statute of Fraud?” I steered her back to basics.
“It’s the precautionary concept behind the expression ‘TALK IS CHEAP, TALK IS FORGOTTEN’ so the law requires contracts to be written in black-and-white, and for the contracting parties to swear by its contents under legal oath, sir. In other words, all contracts must be ‘public instruments’ to be actionable.”
“What does it mean for a contract to be ‘actionable’ Mister…. Makataruz. Where are you, Jack?” I looked for my student with the mohawk hairstyle--or sometimes with a bandido bandana on his head.
“I’m here, sir! A contract is actionable if the parties can sue upon it. That’s why the law requires contracts to be notarized, so the court doesn’t waste any time making the parties prove their obligations,” Jack answered.
“Suppose one party raises the defense that he did not understand the contract?”
Deema stood up, and before I could say anything, she took off, “You were going to call me, sir!”
“I was??”
“Yes, sir, because you wanted to ask what role the notarization plays in that situation. Well, a notary ascertains two things: (1) that the persons appearing before him are the same persons who executed the document, and (2) that they swear under oath they understood what it meant. So, in a way, a notary public is like a forensic quality control officer who saves the court a lot of time investigating a contract. It does make court proceedings a lot more efficient, doesn’t it, sir?” said the class ‘teacher’s pet.’
“Normally, I call on students because I want an answer,” I said, “I don’t really call on them because I want a question!” her classmates giggle.
“Wrap this up, Mister Dimacaawat. Where are you, Juan?”
“I’m here, sir!” Juan stood up, “so the main reason, really, why documents are notarized is to bind the persons who make those documents to honor any statement, declaration or undertaking they knowingly made, so that they cannot wiggle out of them if anybody from the public confronts them with a copy of it, or with any information derived from those documents.”
“What if they contradict what they said in those documents, Juan?”
“They commit perjury, sir. It’s a criminal case, lying under oath. And in terms of how expensive the recommended bail for it is, it’s way up there with falsification of public instrument!”
Deema butted in, “So who said TALK IS CHEAP? Not if you’re a liar!”
“Okay, that about covers the basics,” I said, “next meeting, I want you to to research ahead on how to determine if a document is a fraud. And I want examples.” I said.
“I can give one now, sir!” Deema leaped up, “an appointment paper is fraudulent if you lack the qualification but got appointed anyway!”
“Save it, Miss Deema,” I growled at the girl, “class dismissed!”*
No comments:
Post a Comment