They call her Ursula. Inside the Bureau of Customs, that name rings louder than the clang of a container gate. And lately, it’s being whispered — no, shouted — across ports, offices, and even coffee corners: Collector VII is back, and she’s bolder than ever.
Yes, you heard it right — Ursula a.k.a. Collector VII just got promoted. And while she’s climbing the ranks, the smell of corruption clings like diesel smoke.
Whispers from the inside say this “iron lady” of Customs has her own TARA SYSTEM running on full throttle — the kind of setup that would make even seasoned smugglers raise an eyebrow. Defy her rules, and your cargo’s suddenly “under alert.” Coincidence? Nobody’s buying that.
And the worst part? She’s reportedly defying the very man cleaning up Customs — Commissioner Ariel F. Nepomuceno, the architect of the Bureau’s No Take Policy and Good Governance crusade.
“She’s like a walking contradiction to Nepomuceno’s reforms,” said one insider. “Everyone’s scared, but nobody dares touch her.”
Looks like the only thing “untouchable” here isn’t the law — it’s Ursula.
THE PARKED CASE THAT WOULDN’T DIE
If you think this tale is new, think again. Under the previous administration, Ursula already had a case gathering dust—a “parked case” involving 10 travel authorities, only one of which was legit. Ten!
Where did she get the guts? Sources claim a powerful lady lawmaker from Luzon has been her fairy godmother, calling Customs bigwigs and “requesting” that her favorite collector be left alone.
And according to whispers, ₱5 million per head was allegedly handed out just to make sure the case stayed cold.
But as the saying goes, truth always leaves a paper trail. The Bureau of Immigration reportedly submitted documents confirming her unauthorized travels. In short, caught red-handed.
If that’s not a breach of public trust, what is? If there’s any delicadeza left in her veins, resignation should’ve been the only decent move.
THE LIGHTNING PROMOTION
Fast-forward to now — and surprise, surprise — Ursula is no longer COOV. She’s now Collector VII.
How did she leapfrog over more senior officers? That’s the billion-peso question echoing through Customs hallways.
Insiders recall her failed bid to become Collector V back in the day, where she was allegedly angling for the Port of Manila’s top post. She nearly made it — until Commissioner Nepomuceno came in and slammed the brakes.
“Money couldn’t buy her that post this time,” said one source. “But somehow, she still managed to climb.”
Now, she reportedly controls every transaction in her turf. Brokers and importers bypass her chief and go straight to her — because in that district, “Ursula is the law.”
Her chief? A glorified spectator. A “display-only” officer. The real power sits behind the desk of Collector VII — with her phone buzzing 24/7 and her vault filling up like a slot machine on steroids.
MADAM’S VAULT OF GOLD AND GLITTER
Let’s talk about THE VAULT MASTER
Sources say Ursula’s private stash could rival that of a high-roller tycoon: luxury watches like Rolex, Patek Philippe, Richard Mille, Tag Heuer, and even a few “custom” pieces too rare for public display. All allegedly kept in a private vault — her own little museum of excess.
While Filipinos are rebuilding homes wrecked by floods and quakes, Madam Collector is flaunting million-peso timepieces.
Someone hand her a copy of R.A. 6713 — the Code of Conduct for Public Officials. It clearly states that government employees must “lead modest lives and avoid ostentatious display of wealth.”
But modesty isn’t exactly her brand. Power and money are.
