The Philippine gaming industry seems to be stirring up waves again as a storm approaches. Recently, the prestigious Paseo Huaxing Apartments have become the center of attention.
According to several real estate agents, within just a few days, 26 apartment units were swept up by the same "mysterious team." Even more intriguing is that the force behind the rental is allegedly closely linked to the "dog push" in the gaming chain.
One tenant even revealed directly: "The lottery license has come through, the online ones haven’t yet." This statement has caused a huge stir in the gaming circles. Although the Philippine government has not officially announced the restoration of gaming licenses, from the signs of "sweeping rooms" to team restructuring, all signals are seen by the industry as a prelude to the revival of gaming.
Some worry that this might mean that certain behind-the-scenes forces have already obtained a "pre-entry pass," just waiting for the policy to be fully liberalized. Whether gaming will rebound has thus become the most sensitive topic in society.
In the past few years, under strong external pressure, the Philippine government has vigorously cleaned up the gaming industry, with many POGO companies involved in telecom fraud and money laundering being investigated, and tens of thousands of foreign employees being deported. However, the gaming industry once brought substantial tax revenue and foreign exchange income to the Philippines.
Now, under the tight financial situation, the outside world questions whether the government is secretly paving the way for the return of gaming. Once gaming restarts, it may bring the resurgence of crimes such as telecom fraud, money laundering, and kidnapping, potentially plunging Philippine society into chaos again.
Meanwhile, foreign employees on the blacklist in the Philippines are facing the most brutal test. According to reliable information, anyone still in the Philippines after December 31, 2024, and listed on the ALO, WLO, and BLO blacklists, has already received a "final ultimatum." Especially those still working in the Solaire Building and its affiliated companies, the immigration bureau has made it clear: do not harbor any illusions, the only outcome is deportation.
Unlike the past when giants like the Eastern Group could use their substantial capital to "bribe" the immigration bureau, today's POGO companies have completely lost their privileges, and blacklisted employees cannot be whitewashed. The signal from the immigration bureau is very strong: POGOs no longer enjoy any exemptions, and violators only have the option to voluntarily return to their country or be forcibly expelled.
Under these circumstances, many foreign employees find themselves in increasingly difficult situations. Poor company management makes even paying building protection fees a problem. On one hand, they drastically lower wages, and even absurd practices such as charging a so-called "passport maintenance fee" after employees resign have emerged; on the other hand, they are massively hiring new people to fill the manpower gap at a lower cost. The company not only forcibly detains employee passports but also uses the excuse of the upcoming holidays and staff shortages to deny employees leave. Although according to Philippine labor law, companies have no right to detain passports, most employees, being illegally staying, hardly dare to resist openly.
In this situation, some employees anonymously call on their compatriots: "If you want to get your passport back, the only way is for everyone to unite and strike. Don't be brainwashed by the company anymore, staying here is just an egg that the company can discard at any time, it will eventually break. It's not worth losing your freedom, or even your life, for a few coins."
The situation is becoming increasingly tense, and the future direction of the gaming industry is unclear. On the surface, the Philippine government remains silent on gaming, announcing no new policies, but the subtle signs in reality reveal a complex game: on one side is the potential dependence on gaming capital under financial pressure, and on the other is the great risk to social order and international image. For the blacklisted foreign employees caught in the middle, the dilemma is more direct—staying in the Philippines might temporarily earn some income, but they could lose their freedom or even their lives at any time.
Will Philippine gaming truly legally rebound? Or will underground forces take this opportunity to launder money and re-infiltrate? The answer may be revealed soon. But one thing is certain, in this storm sweeping across the entire industry, blacklisted foreign employees have been pushed to the most dangerous edge, and their only options seem to be to leave voluntarily or be deported by force.
