Before the Doors Open

At 7:10 in the morning, Ben was already walking through the hallway of a City Government office.

His position was simple. He was an Administrative Aide—one of the employees at the lower end of the organizational structure. He had no authority to approve applications, sign official documents, or make decisions for the office.

But Ben knew one thing well:

If the office was not ready, the people would have to wait.

He switched on the lights, checked the receiving area, arranged the chairs, and placed fresh forms on the counter.

Then he noticed something.

The printer beside the frontline desk was flashing red.

“No paper.”

Ben looked at the clock. 7:35 AM.

He quickly went to the supply room, brought a ream of paper, refilled the printer, and printed a test page.

Working.

A few minutes later, he saw a folder on a nearby desk marked URGENT. It had arrived late the previous afternoon and needed to reach another office before morning processing began.

Ben picked it up.

“Ma’am, ipadala na nako ni karon?”

“Yes, Ben. Please. They need that first thing this morning.”

He hurried across the building and personally handed the folder to the receiving staff.

By eight o'clock, citizens were already entering.

An elderly man approached the hallway, holding several documents and looking confused.

“Sir, unsa inyong transaction?” Ben asked.

The man showed him the papers.

Ben smiled. “Diri ta, Sir. Ako lang mo tudlo.”

He brought the man to the correct counter.

That was all.

No major decision.

No signature.

No meeting.

By mid-morning, the printer Ben had refilled had already produced dozens of documents. The urgent folder he delivered had been reviewed and forwarded for approval. The elderly man's transaction was completed without his having to move from one wrong office to another.

Nobody applauded Ben.

Most clients did not even know his name.

At the end of the day, they would remember only that the office had been organized, the transaction had moved, and someone had been there when they needed help.

And perhaps that is the quiet truth about public service.

A government office is like a long chain. Some people approve. Some plan. Some supervise. Some provide technical expertise.

And some simply make sure that nothing stops moving.

Ben may have occupied one of the simplest positions in the office, but that morning, dozens of services moved a little faster because he did his part well.

In LGU-Iligan, public service is not built only by those whose names appear at the bottom of official documents.

Sometimes, it begins with the employee who arrives before the doors open—and quietly makes sure everything is ready for the people who will walk through them.