To get an Irish passport for a baby girl born here, they thought they had done everything right

Ara Wege sits on his mum’s lap, playing with a wristwatch.  

She has pink cat ears over her black curly hair and pink floral overalls and a bindi on her forehead. She’s just a couple of months older than one. 

Her parents, Jaques and Alisha Wege, had just dropped off their older daughter at the National Concert Hall, where she sings in the children’s choir. 

But in the lobby of the nearby Conrad Hotel, they’re both stressed. The passport office recently refused to give an Irish passport to Ara. 

Irish citizens voted in a referendum in 2004 that a person born in Ireland is not automatically a citizen, unless one of their parents is a citizen – or entitled to be one – at the time. “Unless provided for by law.”

These days, non-EU parents can apply for an Irish passport for kids born here, if they had clocked up three years of residency on a regular status before their kid was born.

Jaques Wege had and so applied. 

But officials at the passport office, which falls under the Department of Foreign Affairs (DFA), had judged that Ara wasn’t eligible because of a period of changes in residency requirements during the pandemic.

“Nobody’s listening to us,” said Jaques, as his wife clutched the little girl to her chest. 

Living on extended times 

Jaques’ arrival in the country with a work permit coincided with the early months of the Covid-19 pandemic in the summer of 2020.

Starting in August that year, he sent email after email to the immigration office in Burgh Quay, seeking a chance to register his Stamp 1 immigration permission, off the back of his work permit.

First-time registration has to happen face-to-face with an immigration officer. But the city’s immigration office stayed shut until May 2021.

To help out, the Minister for Justice at the time, Fine Gael’s Helen McEntee TD, extended the immigration permission of anyone who had the prospect of staying in the country.

These extensions covered people like Jaques, too – those who had three months to register for the first time but couldn’t, says a news release from the Department of Justice dated December 2021. 

Jaques started working and paying his taxes as he tried to register, and kept doing that on the extensions, he says. Almost a year later, he managed to grab an immigration appointment and got set up in the system. 

All of that time in between counts toward the citizenship of his little girl, though. He had racked up three years, five months and 28 days going toward his daughter’s citizenship application, he says. 

But the passport office said no, arguing that he didn’t have a physical Irish Residence Permit (IRP) card while on the extensions, so that time didn’t count.

A spokesperson for the DFA did not directly respond to a query asking if its passport office is familiar with the rules for counting time spent on pandemic extensions.

They can’t comment on specific cases, either, they said. But they have contacted the Weges to talk more, said the spokesperson.

Can you hear me?

Officers at the Garda National Immigration Bureau (GNIB) stationed at the Burgh Quay office were surprised when Jaques told them that the passport office wouldn’t listen, he says.

“The passport office should be aware of the Minister's extension for the Covid period,” said an email from a GNIB officer to Jaques, dated 14 April.

Show them this email, that should be enough, it says. That didn’t work though, say Jaques and his wife Alisha.

“I feel like this gap is being used against my child and later on will be used against me for my citizenship application,” wrote Jaques in an email to Minister for Justice, Fianna Fáil’s Jim O’Callaghan TD on 25 February. 

It says he’s done everything right, but he’s been mistreated and ignored anyway.

He’s never asked for anything from the government, hasn’t even claimed tax relief he is entitled to, he wrote. “I have not committed any crimes, always been law-abiding.”

He asks the Minister to tell his officials to give a letter confirming that his time on pandemic immigration extensions counts towards his daughter’s citizenship.

But O’Callaghan hasn’t, says Jaques. 

“I hope you can appreciate that passports are a matter for the Department of Foreign Affairs and the Minister cannot intervene,” said an email to Jaques from O’Callaghan’s office dated 20 March. 

Wendy Lyon, partner and immigration solicitor at Abbey Law, says that Jaques’s time on extensions should contribute to his baby’s citizenship.

Not counting it can be grounds for challenging the passport office in the High Court, Lyon said. 

It’s unclear if the rules have been clearly communicated to the passport office by the Department of Justice, as Jaques says they should be.

A spokesperson for the Department of Justice did not directly respond to a query sent asking about that.

“Applications for Irish passports and any related queries are a matter for the Department of Foreign Affairs,” they said.

Says Lyon: “The Department of Justice has a habit of making policy by posting notices on its website and assuming everyone else is aware of them.”

So close and yet so far 

In the midst of trying to get an Irish passport for his daughter, sending email after email to Ministers, TDs and immigration consultants, Jaques, who works in construction, is dealing with the aftermath of job loss too. 

A new employer ditched him while he was putting together an application for a new work permit, he says. 

Now he’s trying to get what’s known as the “reactivation” work permit, granted to non-EU workers who had a work permit but lost their job, without doing anything wrong and have a new job offer now.

This path has been recently paved off the back of Migrants Rights Centre Ireland’s (MRCI) years of campaigning to stop workers like that from losing their status.

People in the same boat as Jaques need to submit paperwork to the Department of Justice to get a “reactivation letter” to then submit to the Department of Employment, which is in charge of granting work permits to non-EU workers who are not seeking asylum. 

The reactivation letter lets him stay here while the Department of Employment processes his work permit application. His Irish Residence Permit, he says, expired back in March. 

But the Department of Justice hasn’t yet responded to his requests yet. 

A spokesperson for the Department of Justice said it can’t comment on specific cases. 

Says Jaques: “If they had granted my daughter’s passport, it would’ve been easier to just get a job and live a normal life.”

Parents of Irish citizen children are entitled to permanent residency. That means they can work in any job they like, for as long as they want, without work permits. 

As Jaques waits, his family struggles to pay rent and afford groceries and the like, he said. Without a valid work permit, he can’t legally work at all. His wife’s immigration status was tied to his, too. 

If the government doesn’t want people to seek asylum, Jaques says, it shouldn’t make those who immigrated regularly jump through so many hurdles that it psychologically shatters them. 

Now you see me 

The DFA’s response to queries sent on 13 May is correct, said Jaques on Friday by phone. 

They emailed him on Thursday. It was a shock, he says. “I was so shocked when I saw it, I actually had to screenshot it.”

The email said that if he brings a support letter from a GNIB officer at the immigration office, then they’ll count his time on extension when he reapplies on behalf of Ara. 

Jaques called up a GNIB immigration officer at the Burgh Quay Office, who is usually sweet, he said. 

He told him if the DFA had asked for a letter, they ought to give it to him, and they will, said Jaques.

It shouldn’t take sharing their story with everyone through the press to get officials to listen, he says 

But he’s proud of his wife for looking up articles and contacting Dublin Inquirer, he said. “All props to my missus,” said Jaques.