Reporting
Mark Louis F. Ferrolino

Video
Paolo L. Lopez

Illustration
Fortunato V. Da帽as

Editor
Sam L. Marcelo

Ronald Robins, founder and chief executive officer of the largest electronic sports (esports) organization in Southeast Asia, dreamed about a plane crash and an attendant who, in the middle of that horrifying scenario, kept calling him 鈥淢ineski.鈥�

The day after the nightmare, Mr. Robins, a professional Dota player then, changed his in-game name to 鈥渞homineski.鈥� In the 15 years since he was baptized 鈥淢ineski鈥� in a dream, Mr. Robins managed to turn the portentous term into a mainstream brand: one cannot talk about the thriving esports scene in the country without mentioning Mineski.

Mineski, in the world of esports, refers to several things under the umbrella of Mineski Corporation. It can be a professional gaming team under the Mineski Pro Team; a cybercaf茅 franchise by Mineski Franchise Corp.; or the Mineski Events Team (MET), which organizes big esports events in Southeast Asia.

In an interview with 大象传媒, Mr. Robins said that Mineski began as a gaming team he founded with like-minded friends. That was 2004, when it was nearly impossible to make a full-time career out of video gaming.

Esports back then was a relatively new concept and tournaments were limited to weekend LAN (local area network) parties. There were no regional and global championships, no support from organizations. 鈥淓sports before was basically a leap of faith,鈥� Mr. Robins said. 鈥淭here was that big uncertainty.鈥�

Despite these risks, Mr. Robins鈥� team persevered. They reaped the rewards when larger tournaments started coming in and their team rose in popularity after bagging numerous championships. Mineski was considered one of the strongest Dota squads in the Philippines and represented the country in several regional competitions.

Just like other teams, Mineski faced the struggle of looking for computer shops with high-end gaming facilities. That is why, in 2008, Mr. Robins and his partners decided to open the first branch of Mineski Infinity in Taft, Manila.

Unlike other cybercaf茅s with bulky cathode-ray tube monitors and slow-running computers, Mineski Infinity was the first to house computers with flat-panel LED monitors and quad-core processors. As the first-of-its-kind cybercaf茅, Mr. Robins鈥� team immediately received requests to open other branches in other locations.

Team Mineski, meanwhile, continued to dominate Dota competitions in the country, up to the point where none of the local teams could break Mineski鈥檚 stranglehold on the game. This, on the other hand, resulted in a way of thinking called 鈥渘ew blood mentality鈥� in gaming circles. The term refers to the mentality of new teams who don鈥檛 want to compete with strong teams, lobbying instead for the banning of highly experienced teams in tournaments under the guise of a level playing field.

鈥淎t that point in time, I saw this as a big problem,鈥� Mr. Robins said, adding that new teams can鈥檛 improve their gameplay if they don鈥檛 compete with the best.

This issue paved the way for Mineski鈥檚 third arm, MET, and its aim of creating a series of tournaments that would act as a gateway into the competitive sphere of gaming.

In 2009, despite a successful career in the pro gaming scene, Mr. Robins decided to step down from the limelight and focus on the business instead. It was a ballsy move for someone who was considered one of the country鈥檚 most influential players of his time.

鈥淚t was really a big decision for me. I realized that there was a bigger purpose for me rather than just play,鈥� he said, adding that quitting as a player would allow him to concentrate on doing his part in making the gaming industry sustainable for future generations of gamers.

SHAPING THE ESPORTS ECOSYSTEM

Through the years, Mineski鈥檚 three main business units have evolved on their own paths, shaping the country鈥檚 esports ecosystem along the way.

At present, Mineski Pro Team not only refers to an iconic Dota team; it now features teams across multiple competitive titles, including League of Legends (LoL), Overwatch, and Counter-Strike: Global Offensive (CS:GO). The organization has a good history of managing its players, who now have the legal protections and benefits due an esports athlete.

Meanwhile, from a single branch of Mineski Infinity in Manila, the company now boasts a network of 150 cybercaf茅 branches across the Philippines, Malaysia, Thailand and Indonesia. Plans to expand to other countries in the next three years are already in the pipeline, Mr. Robins said.

While Mineski鈥檚 professional teams continue to make waves abroad and Mineski鈥檚 cybercaf茅 business keeps on expanding its network, MET has remained committed to its mission of popularizing esports in the country and across the region.

The events team has established itself as the premier organizer of large-scale esports events in Southeast Asia. Among these events are the Pinoy Gaming Festival,听Mineski Pro-Gaming League, CrossFire Stars Invitational, and The Manila Masters.

TOO BIG, TOO FAST

Mineski鈥檚 trajectory mirrors the growth of Philippine esports, which Mr. Robins believes to be an emerging industry with enormous potential. Mineski is still on track to legitimize professional video gaming as a 鈥渞eal鈥� sport. The company has been working closely with the Games and Amusements Board (GAB), the government-run regulatory body of professional sports in the country, for this matter. In 2017, GAB allowed professional esports players to secure athletic licenses, making it easier for them to secure visas when competing internationally.

The biggest breakthrough, so far, is the inclusion of six esports titles in the 30^th edition of the Southeast Asian Games, to be held in the country at the end of the year. Five of the six games have been named: Dota 2, Starcraft II, Tekken 7, Arena of Valor, and听Mobile Legends: Bang Bang.

Mr. Robins hopes that more firms and brands will invest in the industry, whether by partnering with esports event organizers or sponsoring players and teams. Aside from helping the industry grow further, such investments, according to Mr. Robins, bring value to the investing companies, especially to those who want to tap younger demographics.

Market research company GlobalWebIndex said in its that esports fans are more likely to be young, male and affluent 鈥� a demographic which marketers are finding increasingly difficult to reach. The firm noted that majority or 71% of esports audience is male, while around 73% aged from 16 to 34.

Over the past years, the eSports industry has grown at a tremendous pace. Market intelligence and analytics firm Newzoo said in its that the global esports revenues will reach an impressive $1.1 billion this year, the first billion-dollar year for the industry with a revenue increase of 26.7% year-over-year.

Considering viewership, esports have attracted massive followings comparable to traditional sports. The League of Legends World Championship, for instance, attracted in 2018 for the final series. This is a lot closer to of the National Football League’s Super Bowl, the most-watched sporting event in America, in the same year.

Many of Mineski鈥檚 plans involve improving the sustainability of the industry and attracting more investments. 鈥淲e know that this industry is too big for us. It鈥檚 growing too fast beyond the control of our company. That鈥檚 why we always entertain third-party partners,鈥� Mr. Robins said.

Reporting
Bjorn Biel Beltran

Video
Nina M. Diaz
Paolo L. Lopez

Illustration
Fortunato V. Da帽as

Editor
Sam L. Marcelo

Only one of them plays full-time. In fact, two of their players are still in school. Yet despite the circumstances, the Sterling Global Dragons (SG Dragons) professional esports team for Mobile Legends: Bang Bang made it big in the second season of the game鈥檚 official Philippine professional league this January.

From placing eighth prior to the finals of the second season of the Mobile Legends: Bang Bang Professional League (MPL) Philippines, the team came from behind to secure the first runner-up spot against big-name rivals like Execration, Aether Main, and 听ArkAngel.

They might not have taken home the trophy 鈥� and the $25,000 cash prize 鈥� but it sparked enough to whet their appetites for the next tourney. Particularly, the Mobile Legends segment of The Nationals later in the year, the country鈥檚 first franchise-based electronic sports league, in which SG Dragons will be competing as PLDT-Smart Omega.

The win also gave them the hope that, despite their unusual situation, they have yet to unlock the full potential of their players.

鈥淥ut of the teams that competed at the finals of MPL Season 2, we were the only ones who play part-time,鈥� Jules Carmann Marcelo, who plays as 鈥淒ragons Lex,鈥� said in the vernacular in an interview. 鈥淥f course, that came with advantages and disadvantages.鈥�

鈥淭he disadvantage was the other teams can practice all day, when we cannot. The advantage, however, is whenever we practice we have the eagerness to play. When you play full time, you tend to take time for granted. There鈥檚 this attitude that comes with playing full-time that might make you mismanage your time.鈥�

He pointed out that full-timers are more likely to be 鈥渢ilted,鈥� the gaming or gambling term for an unbalanced state of mind usually caused by a big loss. As in games like poker, tilted players play below their usual ability, making riskier and more aggressive decisions in an effort to quickly recover their losses.

鈥淔or us, our advantage is whenever we do get to practice, we take that practice seriously because we鈥檙e all eager to play,鈥� he said.

Differing backgrounds, same goal

Quality matters over quantity, especially if the team only really gets to practice for two to three hours a day, when its members have come home from school, or have otherwise finished with their daily responsibilities. Mr. Marcelo, for one, is a director at the U.S.-based multi-level marketing company USANA Health Sciences, which has allowed him to be financially secure while giving him the time and freedom he needs to practice.

At 33, he is the eldest professional esports player in the Philippines, if not the world. Mr. Marcelo proves to be an exception in an .

Rather than proving a hindrance to him, however, his age provides him with the maturity and stability that put him above many of his peers. He even admits that, if he were a few years younger, he probably would not have decided to go pro.

鈥淚鈥檓 very lucky that although I鈥檓 33 years old, the timing was just right for me to be here. If it wasn鈥檛, if for example competitive Mobile Legends took off before I was stable, most likely I鈥檇 choose my responsibilities over the game,鈥� he said in Filipino.

鈥淚t just so happens that the timing worked out, and I have my responsibilities settled. I can pursue my dreams now.鈥�

In contrast, Karl Gabriel Nepomuceno, who plays for the team as 鈥淒ragons Karl,鈥� and who at 14 years old is the youngest pro player in the country, is still figuring things out. Still finishing up middle school, he is juggling the day-to-day pressures of schoolwork as an honor student with the rigors of competitive gaming. Of the skills in his disposal, time management, he said, is the most essential.

鈥淲hen I get home from school, I make sure to do my schoolwork first because I鈥檓 an honor student. I do that first and afterward I can play any time,鈥� he said in Filipino.

Mr. Nepomuceno is hoping his time management skills can get him through college, because despite all the successes they have achieved, and the ways they have yet to go, he still dreams of finishing his education.

鈥淚f they want me to go full-time, homeschooling is an option. But if it were up to me, I don鈥檛 want to stop school. I want to do both,鈥� he said.

Given his young age, his parents disapproved of his gaming at first, going as far as to turn off their internet to make sure he got enough sleep. Only when he started competing– and winning– at tournaments did he convince them to his side.

Likewise, for Steven Dale P. Vitug, 22, playing as 鈥淒ragons Dale,鈥� it was a challenge to get support from his loved ones when he was starting out.

As a relatively new industry, professional gaming has yet to overcome conventional barriers regarding public acceptance. Many still view video games as a childish hobby, a far cry from the esteem generally given to professional athletes.

Growing up, Mr. Vitug had to contend with the criticisms of his parents and relatives about his gaming habits, telling him to give it up, that he won鈥檛 get anywhere just playing games. When he eventually had his own family, he realized he had to take their advice.

鈥淚 had no choice then. I needed to abandon my love of games,鈥� he said in Filipino.

鈥淲hen you have a family, you can鈥檛 do what you did as a teenager, going to computer shops all the time. What if you need to wash bottles, feed the baby? You can鈥檛 do that anymore. You鈥檙e not a teenager anymore. You have responsibilities.鈥�

Mr. Vitug was working as a clerk at a convenience store when he got introduced to Mobile Legends, which then served as a fun pastime during work breaks and before bed. He got good at it, and when the opportunity came for him to play competitively, he found that he was at a crossroads.

鈥淏ecause of my responsibilities to my family, I couldn鈥檛 just leave them to play full-time. It got to a point when I was questioning whether I can feed my family from esports.鈥�

鈥淚 asked my partner to be patient, to give me one last chance. If it didn鈥檛 click, then I would quit trying to become a pro player. I鈥檒l stop,鈥� he said.

Inasmuch as Mobile Legends caused friction between their relationship, the game also sparked life into another.

Earvin John Esperanza, 23, who plays as 鈥淒ragons Boo,鈥� never planned to enter the competitive gaming scene as a career. Like his teammate, Mr. Esperanza only found out about the game through a colleague, and it started out as a pleasant enough hobby that reminded him of his teenage years playing Defense of the Ancients, or Dota.

But becoming skilled enough at Mobile Legends allowed Mr. Esperanza to rub shoulders with some of the country鈥檚 best players, and the small connections he made playing the game changed his life far more than he expected.

鈥淎t first, I really didn鈥檛 take it seriously. It was just a game,鈥� he said in Filipino.

鈥淏ut it was through the game that I met the love of my life.鈥�

Although Mr. Esperanza could not pursue professional gaming full-time due to health issues, finding a kindred soul lit a fire in him that served as his inspiration to take the career more seriously.

鈥淚 told myself I wanted to make her proud of me because we鈥檙e both gamers. It鈥檚 a joy to have someone who supports me,鈥� he said. He added that once he gets well enough, it鈥檚 full throttle from there. 鈥淚t鈥檒l be hard, but I can manage.鈥�

For the love of the game

As the team captain, 18-year-old Rico Jatico Esto, who plays as 鈥淒ragons Levi,鈥� is the one who bears the responsibility of making this team of part-time professional gamers work. But there is, perhaps, no one better qualified. Though still a senior high-school student himself, Mr. Esto has been following competitive video games for years, since esports celebrities like Lee 鈥淔aker鈥� Sang-hyeok began making their names in games like League of Legends.

As League of Legendsnwas one of 鈥� if not the most 鈥� popular game at the time, with around 67 million active monthly players at its peak, Mr. Esto found it difficult to compete at a high level on his own.

鈥淚 thought at the time that maybe the game just wasn鈥檛 for me, because it really was hard to find good teammates. I was always on solo queue,鈥� he said in Filipino.

When he saw his sister鈥檚 boyfriend, who was also an esports player, playing Mobile Legends, he found that the it ticked all the boxes that he was looking for in a game to replace his obsession with League. With it being a mobile game, it was also much easier to find like-minded people to team up with.

SG Dragons as a team started out this way, with small, local tournaments being their first foray into the competitive scene. Though their journey has not gone without its trials, the fact that the team has managed to come so far in only a matter of months speaks to the passion and dedication the players have for gaming.

鈥淪ometimes I wondered if what this was the right thing to do. But I realized that this really was my passion. Ever since I was a kid, I dreamed of making it as a pro player. So even if it鈥檚 hard, even if I don鈥檛 get to have the time to do other things like going out with friends, I鈥檒l keep doing it,鈥� Mr. Esto said.

鈥淢y idols from League of Legends, this is what they had felt when they were on the stage. I鈥檓 feeling what they were feeling when they compete with other teams with people watching. I know now how amazing it is to feel the support of so many people.鈥�

After he graduates, he plans on focusing his attention on esports full-time. His team will be right there with him. Bonded through a shared love of gaming, the players of SG Dragons are looking ahead, aiming to go higher than any Filipino sports team has gone before. Their first goal: to become back to back to back national champions, and work upwards from there.

鈥淎s long as we鈥檙e enjoying what we play, we鈥檒l continue playing,鈥� Mr. Esto said.

Reporting
Mark Louis F. Ferrolino
Video
Paolo L. Lopez
Illustration
Fortunato V. Da帽as
Editor
Sam L. Marcelo

Kyung-in 鈥淭r1cks鈥� Lee was sitting in front of a screen, playing an online game when the voice of some guy came through her headphones and, in much ruder language, asked her who she had to sleep with to get to her rank. Ms. Lee, captain of an all-female professional electronic sports (esports) team, fields these vulgar comments all the time. The disparagement is annoying, she said, since she climbed the ranks through solo queue鈥攖hat is, on her own merit.
Ms. Lee and the rest of the members of the ArkAngel CSGO Female Pro Team recently sat down with 大象传媒 to talk about what it鈥檚 like to be women in the flourishing world of esports. 听
The team is about to compete in the grand finals of the Word Electronic Sports Games (WESG) 2018-2019 season to be held in China from March 7 to 17, after bringing home the gold medal in the women鈥檚 division of Counter-Strike: Global Offensive (CS:GO) at WESG Southeast Asia last December.

鈥淚f you play casually, people are like savages,鈥� Joy Maria听鈥淛oy鈥� delos Reyes said. Her teammate, Shara听Mari 鈥淜uchiii鈥澨齂oshikawa, added:听鈥淲hen they know you鈥檙e a girl, sometimes they kick you.鈥� (鈥淜ick鈥� here means to boot a player out of a game.)

Reporting
Bjorn Biel Beltran
Video
Nina M. Diaz
Paolo L. Lopez
Title art
Fortunato V. Da帽as
Webmaster
Criselda R. Valentin
Editor
Sam L. Marcelo

The games are short, just about 10 to 20 frenetic minutes of action each. The mechanics of play are similar to basketball in that there are five people per team and winning requires cooperation and strategy. In a sense, they鈥檙e also like boxing, in that each side considers the opponents鈥� strengths and weaknesses when fine-tuning their formula for success.
Furthering the analogy: like basketball games and boxing matches, the tournaments for Mobile Legends: Bang Bang draw hundreds of enthusiastic spectators, fans wearing the shirts of their favorite teams, chanting the names of their favorite players. Such was the case at the grand finals of the recently concluded second season of the Mobile Legends Professional League (MPL), held at Ayala Malls Circuit in Makati City on January 12 and 13.
And like basketball games and boxing matches, these contests involve real cash with real trophies. The winners of the MPL took home over $25,000鈥攐ver a million pesos鈥攊n prizes. But unlike basketball and boxing, the sport of Mobile Legends is entirely virtual.

As the name suggests, the game is played on mobile phones: it is a free-to-play app available on the Apple Store and Google Play. Developed by Chinese developer Shanghai Moonton Technology, Mobile Legends: Bang Bang is a multiplayer online battle arena, where the objective is to destroy lest ye be destroyed. It has become one of the world鈥檚 most popular games, with tens of millions of players across countries like China, Malaysia, and Indonesia 鈥渓aning, jungling, and tower rushing鈥� to victory since it was released in 2016.

Here in the Philippines, Mobile Legends is one of the first mobile games to have garnered a competitive esports following. In organizing the MPL Grand Finals, Marlon Marcelo, country manager of MET Events, the event-organizing arm of Mineski Corporation, the largest esports organization in Southeast Asia, told 大象传媒 that they had to book a separate viewing area outside the main arena to accommodate the massive number of people who showed up to watch.

Indeed, around a decade ago, esports, or organized competitive gaming, barely existed in the Philippines. Despite the mounting presence of esports associations like Major League Gaming in the US, or the Electronic Sports World Convention, many video game tournaments in the country had been largely amateur, held within the confines of the local computer shops and internet cafes that dot Metro Manila.
鈥淎t the time, it was very hard to see esports as what it is now. Before, eight or ten years ago, there were no big events in the Philippines,鈥� Mr. Marcelo said, noting that the general attitude toward video games at the time was outright dismissal.

People were not sold, he said, on the idea that video games could become anything other than a pastime that was either an enjoyable鈥攊f unproductive鈥攈obby between friends at best or an addictive blight on the youth at worst. Despite predictions that the industry will become a , with an estimated audience of over 380 million viewers all over the globe, the stigma of video games remains a rather prickly concern.
That so many students were spending so much time in computer shops to play video games lends a semblance of credibility to such negative views on gaming. According to an exploratory study published in the International Journal of Cyber Society and Education in 2012, 73% of internet cafe customers in Manila were found to be students.
The study, titled 鈥�,鈥� found that 72% of those surveyed had attained or were pursuing a college degree, and 20% had finished or were still in high school. Presumably, a number of such students were playing video games at the expense of their studies.
鈥淔or now, the main challenge is educating everyone that esports is becoming an actual sport,鈥� Mr. Marcelo said, adding that Mineski has been an avid proponent of responsible gaming since its inception.
鈥淵ou can be successful and be a gamer at the same time. It doesn鈥檛 mean that if you鈥檙e a gamer, you鈥檙e a loser or an addict, or you鈥檙e not successful in life. That is a very big misconception. Gaming is not equivalent to addiction, and gaming can be done right,鈥� he added.
It was because of this stigma that Katrina Flores-Doctolero, head of project management at gaming-and-esports-event-organizing firm Gariath Concepts, expressed her excitement at how far the esports industry has grown in just a few years.
鈥淚t feels like we are now a legitimate kind of sport as opposed to before,鈥� she told 大象传媒 following the conclusion of a separate NBA2K esports event that her company organized. 鈥淓sports is not just about gaming鈥攊t鈥檚 about the passion of the individual gamers who team up and make it something bigger. I think it will take time, but we鈥檙e getting there.

Ultimately, it was through companies like Gariath Concepts and Mineski that esports gained its foothold in the country. In the early 2010s, when small internet cafes started holding their own tournaments for games like Dota 2 and Counter-Strike, Ms. Doctolero said they saw an opportunity for esports to become something bigger.
鈥淥f course, at first we didn鈥檛 see it as becoming something nationwide,鈥� she added, admitting that it took time for them to realize the untapped potential of esports. 鈥淲e only made events for very specific games in very specific locations, mostly in Metro Manila.鈥�
Today, Gariath Concepts organizes the Esports and Gaming Summit (ESGS), one of the largest combined gaming and esports activities in the country, held at the SMX Convention Center in SM Mall Of Asia. This year, the company is also organizing the inaugural season of The Nationals, the first franchise-based electronic sports league in the Philippines, sponsored by the MVP Group of Companies.

Since opening in 2004, Mineski, for its part, organized grassroots tourneys that grew along with its empire of Mineski Infinity cybercafes. Moreover, the company had been one of the first to sponsor a professional esports team in the country.
鈥淔rom small cybercafe events from Mineski Infinity, we slowly garnered the industry鈥檚 trust and earned the community鈥檚 belief that Mineski Events Team is an event organizer that actually cares for the players, the sponsors, and everyone we deal with,鈥� Mr. Marcelo said. 鈥淪lowly, it grew and grew. One of the crowning glories of our organization was within the last two years we were able to host an event in SM Mall of Asia Arena called The Manila Masters.鈥�
The Manila Masters was one of the biggest Dota 2 competitions in the world that Mineski hosted with the Electronic Sports League, with participants from the United States, Europe, and China, and a prize pool of $250,000, or over P13 million. In 2018, Mineski also partnered with Globe Telecom to launch the Philippine Pro Gaming League, a nationwide esports tournament featuring three major esports titles.

The growth in business was accompanied, or perhaps driven, by the success of Filipino gamers in esports tournaments all over the world. TNC Predator, the professional gaming team of Philippine net cafe chain TheNet.Com, placed first in the Southeast Asia Qualifiers at the 2016 season of the Dota 2 tournament, The International, the first Philippine team to do so since Mineski in 2011.
Recently, they took home top prize at the 2018 World Electronic Sports Games Southeast Asian Dota 2 Finals after defeating a Malaysian team. At the same event the year before, Euniel 鈥淪taz鈥� Javi帽as emerged as the champion for the digital competitive card game Hearthstone.

In the fighting game scene, a Filipino player named Andreij 鈥淒oujin鈥� Albar stunned the world by defeating the long-time Tekken 7 champion Jin-woo 鈥淪aint鈥� Choi from South Korea at the locally held Rage Art tournament in 2017. Meanwhile, Filipino teams Bren Esports and Digital Devils Professional Gaming were making their names in international tournaments of Mobile Legends.

The Philippine Games and Amusement Board (GAB), under the Office of the President, allowed professional esports players to secure athletic licenses in 2017, giving it the same legitimacy as conventional sports. The move aims to give esports players more freedom to participate in international tournaments to represent the country. In the past, Philippine teams have been forced to drop out of international tournaments because players were unable to secure travel visas and were subsequently barred from leaving the country.
Senator Paolo Benigno 鈥淏am鈥� Aguirre Aquino IV, an ardent supporter of Philippine esports, welcomed GAB鈥檚 decision.
鈥淲e鈥檙e very happy that these athletes are now legitimized and recognized by the Games and Amusement Board,鈥� Mr. Aquino said in a statement. 鈥淲e hope to continue developing the esports industry in the Philippines and supporting our professional gamers as they represent the Philippines.鈥�

The development of esports has been organic, as far as Ms. Doctolero is concerned. 鈥淥ne factor [of esports鈥� growth in the Philippines] is the community itself. The Filipino gaming community is very supportive with these kinds of events,鈥� she said.
Moreover, she said the developers of esports titles have been more than keen to nurture local competitive scenes. Ms. Doctolero said that American developers like Valve Corporation for Dota 2 and Riot Games for League of Legends have in the past expressed their commitment to helping the homegrown communities that have risen around their games.
鈥淭he community is very passionate about gaming and we want it not only to be competitive but also something that is celebrated by all gamers,鈥� she said.

Added Mr. Marcelo: 鈥淪urely, we鈥檙e very optimistic of what鈥檚 going to happen in esports especially here in our country鈥� More and more people are getting involved. More and more people are seeing that this is not a bad career, and government recognition is coming into light. Schools and universities are recognizing what esports is, and I feel that the future is very bright for this industry.鈥�
Granted, the Philippines may lag behind countries like South Korea or the US in terms of the support it gives to its esports community. But all things considered, things are just beginning.
鈥淚t鈥檚 a good start,鈥� Ms. Doctolero said.

words by

SANTIAGO J. ARNAIZ

videos by

GRETCHEN MALALAD

illustrations by

JIEGO GAVIN TOMAGAN

Gaming companies hoping to capitalize on the popularity of the drug war, she said, may not be sensitive to the ethical implications and psychological impact of the games that they are putting on the market.

鈥淒evelopers should be very careful as to what they want to give these kids,鈥� said Sales. 鈥淜ids are like sponges… If you actually use the flow state to your advantage and you are an unethical person, you can manipulate that person. When they鈥檙e in that state, you can put any kind of image you want.鈥�

In the case of Tsip Bato, the central message presented is not the anti-drug poster lost in the background as the character speeds by, but the image of the man in the middle of the road, gunned down or blown up by the player themselves.

Read the longform article here.

Kapit sa Patalim

Trafficking in the Land of the Free

Words by
Santiago J. Arnaiz

Art by
Mags Ocampo

Eleonor Ramos couldn鈥檛 sleep at all that night. The sound of sirens was keeping her up. Somewhere outside, a police car was approaching. Cold sweat dripping down her neck, she sat motionless. They were coming for her. She knew it.

In another part of the room sat a pair of eviction letters. Her employers were supposed to have paid the rent. They docked her wages $150 for it every two weeks. The sirens grew louder. It had been three days since the water and electricity had been cut, and all the food in the refrigerator had spoiled. Ramos shifted slowly, careful not to make a noise. Against the wall, she could see the subtle rise and fall of her husband鈥檚 silhouette, lying prone on the bed bug-ridden mattress they shared. She couldn鈥檛 see his face, but she knew he was awake. Their two co-workers in the room next door must have been awake, too. None of them slept. How could they, with the constant fear of arrest and deportation hanging over them. She held her breath, afraid to make a sound.

The sirens passed. She waited for the silence to set in again before letting out a sob. Ramos thought of her three children waiting for her back in the Philippines, how she had promised to visit them every year. She thought about the crippling debt that waited for her as well 鈥� how, after more than six months working for her current employers, she and her husband were barely making enough money to survive, much less pay it back. They had sacrificed so much to get here, to this dingy apartment they shared with two strangers.

鈥淪ometimes, you can鈥檛 help but be pushed to tears thinking about what you’ve experienced,鈥� Ramos said.

It鈥檚 a brisk February afternoon in Queens, New York, when Eleonor Ramos recounts her journey to America. It had been eight years since she left the Philippines in 2009, in the hopes of finding work as a seasonal laborer. She had planned to stay in the United States for no more than three years, working wherever she could to make enough money to get her children back home through school. She and her husband had applied through the H2B visa program, a program designed for temporary workers doing seasonal, non-agricultural jobs in the U.S. At the time, their only focus was getting to America and providing their family a better life. They had no idea they had just sold themselves into the modern slave trade.

It鈥檚 a scenario that plays out every day around the world. According to a published in 2012 by the International Labor Organization, there were a recorded 18.7 million victims of human trafficking in the world who, like the Ramoses, were trapped in jobs from which they could not leave.听

The United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime has identified North America as one of the largest destinations for trafficking across regions. Through the use of fraud, force or coercion, men and women looking to find a better life abroad are forced to work indefinitely for little to no pay as modern day slaves.听

In its most recent , the U.S. Department of State acknowledged the continued risks of human trafficking within the nation鈥檚 borders. Victims hail from almost every region of the world, and of the foreign countries identified as points of origin for these men and women, the Philippines tops the list.

Like the Ramoses, most victims of labor trafficking arrive on U.S. soil legally through temporary worker visas like the H2B. These visas allow foreign workers to stay in the country for a defined period of time and on the condition that they remain employed by a sponsor.

These temporary visas give employers access to a rich international labor market and provide overseas workers with job opportunities they often lack in their home countries.

U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services approves H2B visas for periods of up to three years. Job contracts for H2B workers, however, usually only last between six to nine months as these visas are intended for seasonal work. So towards the end of their contract periods, workers begin looking for other employers willing to take them on and sponsor their continued stay in the U.S. The anxiety of not finding new work and getting deported often pushes these people into desperation.听

This has set the stage for international syndicates that have cropped up to ensnare workers in the loopholes of these temporary visa programs, turning them into an underground railroad for the modern slave trade.

Ramos and her husband found themselves caught in this system. Their employers had hidden the fact that they failed to renew their workers鈥� required work visas. But even after the Ramoses found out, there was nothing they could do. In the eyes of the law, they were illegally employed and shouldn鈥檛 have been working in America. But if they stopped working, their employers had threatened to have them arrested and deported. They were trapped.

鈥淭hey rule you,鈥� said Ramos. 鈥淵ou end up constantly afraid because you really have no choice but to follow them.鈥�

There is an old Filipino saying that goes, 鈥�Ang taong nagigipit, kahit sa patalim kumakapit.鈥� Translated: 鈥淧ushed to the point of desperation, a man will find anything to hold onto, even the edge of a blade.鈥� According to Geraldine Mendez, a lawyer in the chief prosecution division at the Philippine Overseas Employment Administration (POEA), it鈥檚 desperation that makes stories like Ramos鈥� possible.

鈥淚t鈥檚 the search for a greener pasture,鈥� Mendez said. 鈥淚t鈥檚 basically wanting to go abroad, to work abroad, and finding any opportunity to do it.鈥澨�

The POEA provides a number of services to protect Filipinos looking for foreign employment from abuse and exploitation. That comes with a very strict, and often time-consuming, set of protocols that make sure any and all jobs offered are up to standard. So if an employer offers a potential domestic worker anything below $400 a month, the minimum amount stipulated by the POEA, that contract would be flagged and disapproved.听

As a result, a black market for foreign job opportunities has emerged. Circumventing the government鈥檚 rigid protocols, workers are ensured immediate deployment. Here, Filipinos willing to make compromises on salaries and working conditions aim to find a way out of their desperate situations at home. But along with the protocols, go the protections. The concern is no longer if there are any jobs available, but how much one is willing to risk for it.

The human trafficking industry in the Philippines is built on a type of shadow syndicate that includes job agencies, government workers and port authorities, working together to fuel the international market for exploitable workers.听

鈥淚f you need a new name, they could get a new name for you,鈥� Mendez said. 鈥淭hey could easily get birth certificates of people unrelated to you and allege they are your relatives. Once you have the workers 鈥� say you鈥檙e the one processing the documents 鈥� then you鈥檇 throw the ball to another person in charge of making sure that the person would be able to go through immigration in the airports or in the seaports.鈥�

But often the troubles begin well before workers even make it out of the country. Of the many means by which workers become enslaved by their traffickers, the most common is debt bondage. Like Ramos, many of these workers are charged unreasonable fees by recruiters, forcing them into crippling debt. The years that follow are spent working to pay that debt back.

Ramos, 42, was born and raised in Santa Cruz, Laguna. There she lived with her husband, Ferdinand, 43, and their three children, Trixia, Trina and Troy. She worked as a department clerk for a semiconductor company called Amkor Technology, supervising the assembly line. Ferdinand worked as a seaman on a crew ship and was often away from home. Together, they pulled in about 40,000 pesos a month, approximately $800 U.S.

As hard as they were working, they struggled to pay all their bills. 鈥淭he money I was getting from my salary wasn鈥檛 enough to support my kids鈥� schooling and everyday expenses,鈥� Ramos said.

Like many Filipinos looking for work in a land of limited opportunity, Ramos thought to apply abroad. In 2016, the POEA documented that over 2.5 million Filipino workers were working overseas. These men and women spend months, if not years, away from the Philippines, toiling in strange lands in order to provide for their families back home.听

鈥淓ven if it was really hard to leave our children at their young age, we decided to leave the country,鈥� Ramos said.

Ramos鈥� co-workers often spoke of friends who had found great-paying work in the U.S. Intrigued, she asked how they had managed to make it there and was referred to a Manila-based agency called Northwest Placement. Excited by the prospect, she convinced her husband to contact them and apply for a job. He did, and in 2007 was sent to Michigan to work as a housekeeper.

Buoyed by the prospect of improving her situation and reuniting with her husband, Ramos reached out to Northwest Placement in July 2008. Initially the agency played up how easy and great the opportunity to work in the U.S. would be, she said, but the next few months became quite taxing on Ramos and her family.

Over the course of her application, the agency charged her over $3,000 in processing and miscellaneous fees. As they had already spent most of their savings sending her husband abroad, Ramos was forced to take out a loan from a local bank using her mother鈥檚 home as collateral.

It was only until much later that Ramos discovered that the H2B visa regulations prohibited job agencies like Northwest from charging placement fees. But by then, she and her family were already thousands of dollars in debt.听

鈥淲e were just following orders,鈥� she said. 鈥淭his was our first time to apply for an H2B. It was only when we were already in the U.S. that we realized the employers would pay the agency as well to process our papers. They were making money off of us anyway.鈥�

In Jan. 2009, Ramos received a job offer from a company called Coastal Ventures making $7.50 an hour as a housekeeper at Holiday Inn on the Beach in Destin, Florida.听

On Feb. 28, 2009, Ramos left the Philippines for the U.S., promising her children she鈥檇 be back to visit them as soon as her contract expired.听 鈥淚 only expected to work for three years, go home for vacation and see my children,鈥� Ramos said. 鈥淲hat ended up happening was I stayed on for such a long time, seven and a half years.鈥�

At the Holiday Inn in Destin, Florida, Ramos struggled to make enough money to send back home. Though the contract she signed promised 40 hours of work a week, her employers quickly began scaling that back. When the hotel had no guests, workers were sent home early. Ramos recalled one week when she only worked for seven hours and took home $50 for the week.听

鈥淚 sacrificed a lot for myself to save money,鈥� Ramos said. 鈥淭he housekeepers would take the untouched food left behind during check-out and we鈥檇 take it home just so we had food. That鈥檚 all we had at the time. I canceled the transportation service and walked an hour each way to go to work and back to my apartment every day.鈥�

Ramos worked in Destin for about six months. 鈥淚 just persevered through it, thinking, maybe in the next cycle I鈥檇 have a better contract,鈥� she said.

Ramos realized the housekeeping job in Florida just wasn鈥檛 going to be enough to pay back her debts and support her children. Towards the end of her contract period with Coastal Ventures, she started looking elsewhere. Her husband, Ferdinand, was moving back and forth between Michigan and Arizona at the time and though they kept in contact through phone calls and Skype, Ramos missed him. When he told her that a group of his co-workers were applying for new jobs through their agency DHI, she decided to join them.

Despite being hard on cash, Ramos said she and her husband each had to pay DHI a processing and insurance fee of $399. After wiring the money and sending their documents, Ramos got word that they had been secured housekeeping positions at another hotel in Florida. They were overjoyed.

The elation didn鈥檛 last long. On September 8, 2009, Ramos received an email from Wioletta Olszoweic, the program director of Hospitality and Catering Management Services, confirming their job offer. The job however, was in Louisiana, not Florida.

Through email exchanges, Ramos tried to clarify the details of their employment. Olszoweic and her agents never gave a straight answer. One message said it would be in Lafayette. Another said Bossier. When Ramos asked for a copy of the job offer, a document that should have listed the location, nature and payment of the work, none was provided.听

鈥淲e were terrified, of course,鈥� Ramos said. 鈥淵ou never know what could鈥檝e happened, who these people were. We only conversed through email. We were worried if we had jobs there at all. And since we didn鈥檛 know them, we were worried if this was going to be a job that would take us to God knows where.鈥�

Without any other prospects, they stuck with it. On October 4, 2009, Ramos flew to Shreveport, Louisiana, still unsure as to what her job with Hospitality and Catering Management Services would be. Ferdinand had already arrived, and they were reunited for the first time in four years.听

The next morning, they were picked up by Anya Kempinska, a staff person of Hospitality and Catering Management Services, and brought to the apartment that would be their home. On the way, Kempinska explained that she was to be their supervisor and that they would be working as housekeepers at Boomtown Hotel and Casino in Bossier, Louisiana. She collected another $300 from each of them as a security deposit for the apartment and handed over their job contracts for signing. Ramos was alarmed that the forms were full of blank lines, to be filled in later by the management. With reservations, she signed the document and Kempinska explained to them the specifics of their job.

Hospitality and Catering Management Services promised the Ramoses 40-hour workweeks at $8 an hour, as well as a fully furnished apartment for the two of them. When they arrived at Alexis Park Apartments, however, what they found was a dingy, barren two-bedroom they shared with two other people working at the hotel. The apartment was completely empty, save for a table, three dirty mattresses and some food left in the cupboards by previous tenants.

鈥淚t was uncomfortable,鈥� Ramos said. 鈥淭here was nowhere to lie down. The beds, to be honest, they took them from the dump. You know how some people leave their old furniture there? Pretty much all our furniture came from that dump, by the garbage. We found out because there were other workers that they’d order to pick them up and bring it to the apartments.鈥�

Ramos ended up spending most of her time at this apartment, as the 40-hour workweeks she was promised were cut down to 20-hour weeks with her pay scaled back accordingly.听

All of this amounted to a terrible working environment, but one from which the Ramoses would find themselves unable to escape 鈥� a fact that their employers made very clear to them on an almost daily basis through emails and direct threats of deportation.听听

鈥淭hey gave us letters saying, if you鈥檙e trying to find another employer, we are going to report you to immigration so your visas are cancelled and you鈥檙e deported,鈥� Ramos said. 鈥淭hey often went to our apartments to check up on us and say the same.鈥�

鈥淚t鈥檚 hard to know how serious that stuff is on the employer side,鈥� said Sean McMahon, a lawyer from the Urban Justice Center that helped the Ramoses out of their situation. 鈥淚t鈥檚 not like there鈥檚 some magical number they can call which will bring [immigration enforcement] down on their employees. But it is true that they could make a report and say that this person is undocumented.鈥�

According to McMahon, the problems that the Ramoses faced centered on their temporary workers visas. These visas prevent the holder from legally staying in the country unless they鈥檙e working for their sponsor. This is meant to protect employers from runaway workers who might leave to find jobs elsewhere once in the country.

When Ramos鈥� first visa to work in Florida expired, Hospitality and Catering Management Services had promised to sponsor and roll over her and her husband鈥檚 H2B visas. As long as they were employed by this company, they could continue to live and work in the U.S. This gave Ramos鈥� employers considerable leverage over their workers, leverage they were more than willing to use.

Sitting in their apartment, the Ramoses would wait every day for a knock on their door. Kempinska, their supervisor, lived in the same compound as the workers and would visit each of their rooms, reminding them that if they ever thought of leaving 鈥� and they did so almost everyday 鈥� she would report them to Homeland Security and have them deported. Kempinska would accompany them to their workplace, often checking in on them and making her presence felt.

The Ramoses also began getting letters from the management echoing Kempinska鈥檚 threats. One letter from the company鈥檚 executive vice president Janece Burke read: “If we suspect you are leaving, we will go ahead and contact [the Department of Homeland Security] to cancel your status… We take our commitment to you very seriously and hope you do the same.”

But it was not until immigration enforcement actually did show up that Ramos realized how grave her situation was.

One day, word spread in the workplace of a raid being conducted by Homeland Security at Boomtown Hotel and Casino. By the end of the day, a large group of undocumented Mexican workers had been arrested and escorted off the premises. The effect this had on Ramos and her companions was profound.

鈥淪ometimes we’d bump into police and we’d be terrified,鈥� she said. 鈥淲e were the only Filipinos in the area, so it would’ve been very easy for us to be singled out. That’s what we were terrified of, that we’d be approached by police and end up in jail.鈥�

Other than never providing the Ramoses with their job offer, Hospitality and Catering Management Services never handed them their visas either. When pushed, the management would only say their visas were still under appeal.听

In November 2009, after three months working for Hospitality and Catering Management Services, Ramos heard rumors that the workers鈥� visas had been denied by U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services. By Nov. 4, Burke, the Hospitality executive, sent a letter hoping to clarify the situation. 鈥淗CMS has properly filed your H2B extension with USCIS,鈥� she wrote. 鈥淭his means it can take up to 3-4 months before we hear whether or not the petition is approved.鈥澨�

Unsatisfied with the response, Ramos and her co-workers did some digging of their own. One person in their group had a friend working in Immigration Services who secured a copy of a letter informing Hospitality and Catering Management Services that the visa application had been denied. The management had failed to prove that the jobs they were fielding workers for were seasonal and not permanent. Worse, they had misreported the job location and omitted payroll records for multiple months between 2007 to 2009.

The denial letter was dated Nov. 3, 2009, the day before Burke messaged her workers.听

Now it was clear. The management was lying to them.听 And regardless of whether or not the Ramoses continued to work for Hospitality and Catering Management Services, they were officially undocumented workers.

鈥淲e were incredibly scared, to the point that we didn’t want to go out on our off-time, in case someone caught us and put us in jail,鈥� Ramos said. 鈥淲e ended up having no freedom to leave.鈥澨�

The fear was crippling, and compounded by the fact that Ramos鈥� debt meant she could not afford to lose her job.听

鈥淚 didn’t want the family to be homeless back home,鈥� she said. 鈥淢y mom lent me the deed to her home and in a moment, everything would’ve been gone. That would’ve been my fault. I was the one who used the money. I was thinking, I need to pay this back, even if there’s no money left for me here.鈥�

McMahon stressed that it was her situation at home that pressured Ramos to stay on. 鈥淪he was fearing real economic ruin in her home country based on her debt,鈥� he said. The decision to put her mother鈥檚 home up as collateral was a gamble Ramos was regretting having made more and more each day. 鈥淚t’s the kind of move that might make sense if the promises that you were told are true and you have a good job here. But if those promises fall through and you end up not getting paid at all or getting paid very low wages, then the debt just keeps mounting until it becomes impossible to pay.鈥�

The pressure was building for Ramos. She was still not making enough money for her family back home, and now she was stuck working for abusive employers, unable to leave whether she wanted to or not.

According to Song Kim, a lawyer with the Asian American Legal Defense Fund, migrant workers like the Ramoses are especially vulnerable to abusive employers. 鈥淎s soon as they come to the U.S., now they鈥檙e isolated,鈥� she said. 鈥淭hey don鈥檛 have any social contacts. They don鈥檛 speak the language. They don鈥檛 know anything about the laws. And so they are now primed to be exploited.鈥�

The employer must have known, said McMahon. 鈥淭hey had received the documentation stating that their visa renewal had been denied. But she was in the dark, all of the other workers were.鈥�

The night they learned about the visa denial, Ramos and her coworkers were shocked 鈥� the full reality of their situation finally made clear. In the eyes of the law, they were illegally employed and shouldn鈥檛 have been working in America. But if they stopped working, their employers had threatened to have them arrested and deported. It seemed like they had no alternative.听

That night, none of them could sleep. The anxieties were piling up on them. They were terrified of deportation, living in squalor and threatened with eviction. The landlords had sent them a pair of eviction letters claiming they had failed to pay their $625 monthly rent. Among the four of them in that apartment, the management had been collecting over $1,200, claiming that money would go towards paying the landlords. Ramos realized that their employers had found yet another way to cheat them.

The situation was dire, but Ramos was desperate. She held on, keeping her head down and reporting for work.

As the months rolled by and their work hours continued to dwindle, the steady stream of deportation threats went on, until suddenly, they stopped altogether. 鈥淭hey weren’t replying anymore to our emails,鈥� Ramos said. 鈥淲e stopped seeing Anya. They didn’t need us anymore. They already replaced us.鈥�

By May 2010, the Ramoses found they had been assigned three more roommates in their already cramped apartment at Alexis Park. At that point, Ramos decided enough was enough. Despite the very real threat of deportation, she and her husband joined a coworker and left for New York.听

Living in the basement of a contact鈥檚 home in Queens, the Ramoses took any jobs they could find to get by. Eleonor Ramos found work as a nanny and a housekeeper. Her husband worked laundry. While they were lucky enough never to have heard from their former employers again, they had more immediate problems. Having landed in New York, they were still undocumented, still unable to find work they desperately needed and still living in fear of deportation.

In 2013, Ramos was introduced by a friend to Juana Dwyer, a board member of the Damayan Migrant Workers Association. Founded in 2002 as a community support group for Filipino domestic workers, Damayan has since expanded into a grassroots community organization with 8,000 members and a dedicated campaign against the labor trafficking of Filipino workers. Through Damayan, the Ramoses met with lawyers from the Urban Justice Center and began their application for legal immigration.

Caught in the aftermath of forced labor, often with the burden of debt bondage in tow, securing legal status to live and work in the country is one of the best ways to alleviate the problems of labor trafficking survivors. Once legally permitted to stay in the U.S., survivors can finally look for decent work, the reason they set off on their journeys in the first place.听

In 2018, the Department of Homeland Security granted T-visas 鈥� special visas for trafficking survivors 鈥� to 580 victims and 698 of their family members. Though these numbers haven鈥檛 changed much over the years, the Department of State has reported that these figures represent an overall decline in immigration relief, owing to a lack of support by law enforcement.听

Human trafficking has garnered a lot attention in the U.S. following the passage of the Trafficking Victims Protection Act in 2000. But while law enforcement officers have cracked down heavily on the crime, their efforts have focused almost exclusively on sex trafficking cases, leaving victims of labor exploitation on the wayside.听

A report released in 2014 by the Urban Institute, a Washington D.C.-based economic and social policy think tank, found that while the U.S. Department of Justice identified 64 percent of trafficking victims as victims of labor trafficking and 10 percent as victims of both labor and sex trafficking, labor trafficking cases accounted for only 17 percent of human trafficking cases handled by law enforcement.听

The result is an entire group of workers exploited with relative impunity for their employers.

鈥淟aw enforcement going after labor trafficking doesn鈥檛 happen on the level that we need it to,鈥� said Kim, of the Asian American Legal Defense. Currently, the laws on human trafficking place higher penalties on sex trafficking than on labor trafficking. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 really unfortunate,鈥� Kim said. 鈥淲hen something is a 鈥榖igger鈥� crime under the law, law enforcement is going to go after it more, even though in reality, it鈥檚 not a worse thing.鈥�

To end trafficking would require shutting down the means by which people get trafficked in the first place 鈥� both at the source and at the destination. The lack of accurate data and the need for international cooperation make the war against trafficking an especially complicated one to wage.听

鈥淭he Philippines is a source country for trafficking in persons, owing to the rich supply of labor and desire for overseas work,鈥� said Mendez of the POEA. While her government agency was only able to identify four cases of labor trafficking of Filipinos in 2015, the office has made great strides in attempting to address the issue. It shut down 12 unlicensed recruitment agencies that year 鈥� agencies similar to the one Ramos used 鈥� and conducted public seminars to educate potential applicants about the hazards of trafficking and the warning signs of illegal recruitment.

According to Kim, prevention happens through education. 鈥淢aking sure people are aware of their rights, making sure they鈥檙e not putting themselves in these risky, vulnerable situations,鈥� she said.听

Kim, who has long advocated for policy reform in the U.S., said it is also essential that temporary worker visa programs like the H2B be restructured to prevent these types of abuses. 鈥淭hese are visas that are very protective of the sponsors, without having built-in protections for the people receiving the visas themselves.鈥�

鈥淓ven if something bad happens to them, they are afraid to go to the police,鈥� she added. 鈥淵ou have rights here as a worker. You have rights here as a victim of a crime.鈥� In the U.S., grassroot community groups like Damayan play a vital role in helping survivors and educating workers on these rights.

Since 2011, the Damayan Migrant Workers Association has assisted over three dozen trafficking survivors escape their dire situations, find legal and social services and reunite with their families. As big an accomplishment as that is, it鈥檚 still an ongoing struggle. According to Rose Alovera, a board member at Damayan, the association handles anywhere from 30 to 40 trafficking cases at any given time.

On Oct 29, 2015, after a year of filing and investigations, poring over receipts and documents she had meticulously organized over the years, Eleonor Ramos was finally granted a T-Visa, awarding her, her husband and their children legal status in the U.S. After six years struggling to survive in the country, scrimping and saving for a better life for their family, Eleonor and Ferdinand Ramos were finally reunited with their three kids.

鈥淚 was shocked when I saw my children,鈥� Eleonor Ramos said. After securing clearance to fly back to the Philippines for the first time in six years, she described the experience as surreal. 鈥淚 asked myself: Are they really that grown up? When I left them, they were so small, my youngest was only seven.鈥�

听

鈥淚 was so happy when I finally saw them,鈥� she said. 鈥淚 finally got to see my family, that they were healthy, that everything was alright. The work we do here in New York, my husband and I really work very hard, the result has been good. We’re able to put them through the schools they want to go to. We were able to put up a house back in the Philippines. I paid back the loans of my mom and got back the land title.鈥�

Today, the Ramoses still live in New York City, in an apartment in Woodside, a Queens neighborhood home to a stretch of Filipino establishments called Little Manila. Eleonor Ramos is a full-time nanny, employed by a family in Brooklyn. Ferdinand Ramos works as a warehouse clerk. Their two youngest children, Trina and Troy, live with them and study at The International High School at LaGuardia Community College. Their eldest, Trixia, just finished her university studies in the Philippines, graduating with a bachelor of science in tourism management from the PATTS College of Aeronautics last April.

Eleonor Ramos had already missed so many of her children鈥檚 milestones, trading those memories for a better future for them. But when Trixia took the stage to get her diploma, her mother was finally there cheering from the audience.

On April 18, Ramos flew with her daughter back to New York 鈥� their family reunited and living together for the first time in almost ten years.

The Ramoses hope to continue working in the U.S., at least until their younger children finish their schooling and get settled. After that, they plan to retire back in the house they鈥檝e built for themselves in the Philippines.

Eleonor and Ferdinand Ramos fought through and survived their experiences of labor trafficking. But while their perseverance was remarkable, their story is all too common. 鈥淚 think people like me, they just want to work abroad,鈥� Ramos said. 鈥淧eople just want to go to the U.S., but they don’t see the risks, what might happen. Even if they have to sell their homes, and they don’t even know what they’ll end up working as or how many hours they’ll have. Kapit sa patalim talaga.鈥�

Despite all she鈥檚 suffered, Ramos said that had she known the actual risks she was facing back in 2009, she would have still chosen to find work in America. 鈥淚 needed to work,鈥� she said. 鈥淚 needed to provide for my family.鈥� Still, knowing what she knows now, she鈥檇 be more careful and more vigilant. 鈥淚’d be more bold in fighting for my rights,鈥� she said. 鈥淣ow that I have more experience, I know the rules involved in going to work abroad. I wouldn’t make the same mistakes.鈥�

View the photo essay听here.