FILE PHOTO: Filipino migrant workers in Hong Kong socialising on their off day. Women now make up the majority of overseas Filipino workers (OFWs), yet they are disproportionately deployed to countries with restrictive labour and migration systems, where they are funnelled into high‑risk, low‑visibility jobs and left with limited legal protection when abuse occurs. - AFP
MANILA: On the night before she flew to Riyadh, Maria (not her real name) tucked her children’s school photos into the front pocket of her suitcase. She had memorised the route to the airport, the name of her recruiter and the hotline number of the agency office in Saudi Arabia.
What she could not prepare for, she later said, was the loneliness of working inside a stranger’s home, thousands of miles from the people she was leaving behind.
“I told myself I would stay strong for my kids,” she said in an interview. “But there are days when you feel like you don’t exist. You clean, you cook, you take care of everyone else—and no one asks how you are.”
Her story reflects the path taken by millions of Filipinas who leave the country each year to work in households, hospitals and care facilities across the world—a global flow of labour shaped by both demographic demand abroad and economic pressure and policy decisions at home.
Women now make up the majority of overseas Filipino workers (OFWs), yet they are disproportionately deployed to countries with restrictive labour and migration systems, where they are funneled into high‑risk, low‑visibility jobs and left with limited legal protection when abuse occurs.
A workforce shaped by gender
Data from the 2023 Survey of Filipino Overseas Workers show that of the estimated 2.16 million Filipinos who worked abroad between April and September 2023, 1.20 million, or 55.6 per cent, were women.
Dr. Alicor Panao, associate professor at the University of the Philippines Diliman and an INQUIRER Metrics data scientist, said the figures reveal a clear geographic pattern in where women are sent to work.
“Data from the 2023 Survey of Filipino Overseas Workers shows a stark gendered pattern in deployment. Filipina workers are heavily concentrated in Saudi Arabia (21.6 per cent), the United Arab Emirates (15.9 per cent), Kuwait (10.6 per cent) and Hong Kong (10.9 per cent), largely in domestic and care roles,” he said.
Labor advocates note that these destinations are also places where domestic and care work dominate migrant recruitment and where worker protections are often unevenly enforced inside private homes.
Globally, migration researchers describe this trend as part of the “feminisation of migration,” driven by a widening care deficit in wealthier economies. As populations age and public care systems shrink, demand for low‑cost, flexible care workers has grown—a gap largely filled by women from lower‑ and middle‑income countries.
Filipinas, scholars note, have been specifically recruited into this global care chain. English proficiency, a national reputation for caregiving and decades of state‑supported labour export policies have positioned the Philippines as one of the world’s leading suppliers of domestic workers, caregivers and nurses.
Why women dominate deployment
At the policy level, the Philippines institutionalised labuor export in the 1970s, building recruitment and deployment systems that expanded over time into the household and care sectors.
While the strategy helped stabilise remittance flows and ease domestic unemployment, it also shaped the kinds of jobs Filipinos—particularly women—were funneled into abroad.
Migration scholars link this trajectory to a broader global shift often described as the “feminisation of migration,” driven by aging populations in wealthier countries, the contraction of public care systems and rising demand for low‑cost, flexible labour in private households, hospitals and eldercare facilities.
Care work, long socially coded as “women’s work,” has become one of the most mobile and internationalised forms of labour—and one of the least regulated.
For the Philippines, this global demand intersected with domestic policy and labour market realities. Researchers note that English proficiency, caregiving and nursing training programmes, and decades of state support for overseas placement positioned Filipinas as a preferred workforce for employers seeking domestic workers and caregivers.
Persistent gender wage gaps, limited formal‑sector employment for women in rural areas, and expectations that women shoulder both paid work and family care have made overseas care jobs one of the few pathways to significantly higher income.
Historical deployment records from the Philippine Overseas Employment Administration show how this pipeline took form.
Between 2007 and 2011, the number of newly hired household service workers deployed overseas nearly tripled—from 47,878 in 2007 to 142,689 in 2011—even as total land‑based overseas hiring increased more gradually, from 313,260 to 437,720 over the same period.
The growth outpaced nearly every other major occupational category tracked by the agency. Over those five years, deployments of caregivers and caretakers remained relatively steady, while traditionally male‑dominated trades—such as welders, plumbers, wiremen and general labourers—showed either flat growth or year‑to‑year declines.
By 2011, household service workers alone accounted for nearly one in every three newly hired land‑based OFWs within the agency’s top occupational categories—a level of concentration that labor analysts say reflects not only global demand, but how recruitment systems are structured to scale certain job streams faster than others.
Together, these forces—global care deficits, gendered labor expectations and a state‑supported recruitment pipeline—have produced a migration system in which women are not simply participating in overseas work, but are structurally steered toward domestic and care roles that remain among the least protected segments of the international labour market.
Invisible labour, uneven protection
Behind the statistics are women doing some of the most physically demanding and least visible work overseas.
Data from the Philippine Statistics Authority show that in 2023, nearly two‑thirds (64.1 per cent) of women migrant workers were employed in elementary occupations—jobs defined by simple, repetitive tasks that often require long hours of physical labour.
These jobs place women inside private homes, kitchens and back rooms—cleaning rooms, washing cars and windows, assisting in food preparation, delivering goods and carrying heavy luggage. The work is routine, essential and largely unseen.
Another 14.1 per cent were employed as service and sales workers, many in customer‑facing roles that require emotional labor in addition to long shifts.
Panao said the concentration of women in these sectors heightens their exposure to risk.
“These sectors, while essential, expose women to overwork, isolation and limited protections, highlighting the precarious nature of their labor migration,” he said.
A stark gender divide in deployment
The risks faced by women migrant workers stand in sharp contrast to the jobs typically assigned to men.
Male workers, Panao noted, are more evenly distributed across regions and industries, with large numbers deployed to North and South America (15.3 per cent), Europe (12.5 per cent) and Japan (7.7 per cent).
“Male workers are more evenly distributed, with notable numbers in North and South America, Europe and Japan, often in construction, technical trades and maritime work,” he said.
“Although these roles carry risks, male deployment generally allows clearer contracts and stronger labor protections than the care sector,” Panao said.
Where they go and what systems await them
The conditions women face abroad often depend on the legal frameworks of their destination countries.
In several Gulf Cooperation Council states—including Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and the United Arab Emirates—migrant domestic workers have historically been governed by sponsorship systems known as kafala, which tie a worker’s legal residency to a single employer. Under this system, a worker’s ability to change jobs, leave the country or access legal remedies can depend on the consent of the sponsor.
In recent years, some Gulf states have introduced partial reforms. Saudi Arabia launched a labor reform initiative in 2021 that allows certain categories of migrant workers to change employers and exit the country without prior employer consent, though domestic workers remain largely covered by separate regulations rather than the general labour law.
Kuwait adopted a domestic workers’ law in 2015 that set limits on working hours, guaranteed a weekly day off and required employers to provide food, housing and medical care. The United Arab Emirates passed a federal domestic workers law in 2017 outlining contract terms, paid leave and end‑of‑service benefits.
Labour advocates, however, say enforcement remains uneven, particularly in cases involving abuse inside private homes, where labor inspections are limited and workers’ access to complaint mechanisms can be constrained by language barriers, fear of retaliation or the risk of losing legal status.
By contrast, jurisdictions such as Hong Kong operate under a standardised employment contract for foreign domestic helpers that sets a government‑mandated minimum wage, requires at least one rest day per week and provides access to the Labour Department and labour tribunals for dispute resolution. Employers are also required to provide free accommodation or a housing allowance and cover medical care.
Even within this framework, worker advocates note that legal remedies can be difficult to pursue in practice. Domestic helpers who file complaints may face immediate contract termination, which can trigger a short window—typically two weeks—to find a new employer or leave the territory, creating pressure to settle disputes rather than pursue formal cases.
The Philippine government has signed bilateral labour agreements and memoranda of understanding with several destination countries to improve contract standards, employer accountability and access to legal assistance.
One of the most closely watched was the 2018 Kuwait‑Philippines labour agreement, negotiated after a series of abuse cases, which included provisions prohibiting passport confiscation, requiring employers to allow workers access to mobile phones and mandating a standard contract for Filipino domestic workers.
Analysts say such agreements represent progress on paper, but often depend on the political will, monitoring mechanisms and enforcement capacity of host governments once workers are already deployed—leaving protections unevenly applied across countries and, at times, from one household to another.
‘Opportunity or the gallows?’
For Likhaan, a national nonprofit focused on women’s health, the danger is most acute among women migrant domestic workers (WMDWs)—including nannies, caregivers and nurses.
Confined to private homes and care settings, WMDWs face heightened risks of verbal, psychological, physical and sexual abuse from employers and recruitment agencies. In extreme cases, their working conditions resemble modern‑day slavery.
“Their vulnerability is exacerbated by abusive labour practices that give employers control over the residence status of migrant workers or tie them to a specific employer,” Likhaan said.
The late former labour undersecretary Susan Ople once captured the reality faced by women migrants in a single line: “Two words—gender matters. Let us remember that the most vulnerable among our migrant workers are women.”
The cost of care work: lived experiences
For many women, migration is less a choice than a calculation shaped by debt, caregiving responsibilities and the absence of stable work at home.
In a documented case cited by international labour researchers, a Filipina domestic worker deployed to the Middle East said she was forced to continue working even after her contract terms were changed upon arrival—a practice known as contract substitution.
“When I reached the house, they told me my salary was different from what I signed in Manila,” she said. “If I wanted to go home, I had to pay everything back.”
Another Filipina caregiver, interviewed in a labour rights timeline on transnational motherhood, described the emotional toll of leaving children behind for years at a time.
“You become a mother on a screen. You see them grow up on a phone, not in your arms.”
Advocates say these stories are common across domestic and care work corridors, where women are often isolated in private homes, dependent on employers for housing, food and, in some countries, even their legal status.
Abuse cases mirror violence at home
Data from the Overseas Workers Welfare Administration underscore how deeply gender shapes migrant vulnerability.
In 2020, OWWA recorded 23,986 cases of abuse and related complaints involving workers in Gulf countries, where many women migrant workers are concentrated. Of these, 18,002 cases, or 75.05 per cent, involved female OFWs.
AGIMAT Party‑list Rep. Bryan Revilla, chair of the House Committee on Overseas Workers Affairs, compared the scale of abuse to violence faced by women inside the country.
“That is almost the same as the Philippine National Police’s recorded 21,366 gender‑based violence cases nationwide in 2019. What this means is that the suffering endured by our women does not end at the country’s borders,” Revilla said.
“The other side of the story does not tell of prosperity… but of pain.”
When abuse turns fatal
In January 2023, the killing of Jullebee Cabilis Ranara, a 34‑year‑old Filipina domestic worker in Kuwait, brought international attention to the dangers faced by women migrant workers behind closed doors.
Ranara’s burned body was found in a desert area outside Kuwait City. Kuwaiti authorities later arrested the 17‑year‑old son of her employer, who confessed to killing her. Forensic reports indicated she was pregnant at the time of her death.
The case sparked public outrage in the Philippines and renewed scrutiny of how workers are recruited, monitored and protected once deployed.
The Philippine government imposed a temporary suspension on the deployment of new household service workers to Kuwait and ordered an investigation into the recruitment agency involved in Ranara’s placement, examining whether proper screening and contract safeguards had been followed.
Her death reopened painful memories of another case years earlier.
In 2020, Filipina domestic worker Jeanelyn Padernal Villavende was found dead in Kuwait after suffering repeated beatings and sexual abuse by her employers. Kuwaiti courts later sentenced her female employer to death and her male employer to life imprisonment.
Both Ranara and Villavende’s deaths occurred after the May 2018 Kuwait‑Philippines labor agreement, which had been signed following an earlier tragedy—the murder of Joanna Demafelis, whose body was discovered inside a freezer in Kuwait.
That 2018 agreement included protections such as banning passport confiscation, guaranteeing at least one day off per week and requiring employers to provide food, housing and insurance.
Villavende’s death led the Philippine government to impose a temporary deployment ban on Filipino workers bound for Kuwait in early 2020, as officials said the 2018 accord’s protections were not being fully implemented and justice had yet to be delivered.
For migrant advocates, the two cases illustrate both the potential and the limits of diplomatic and legal frameworks—showing how reforms are often driven by tragedy and how enforcement remains the central challenge.
Women report more—and worse—cases
A 2021 study by Alcestis “Thetis” Abrera Mangahas, former deputy regional director of the International Labour Organisation for Asia and the Pacific, documented a clear disparity between the experiences of male and female OFWs.
The study found an increase in the number of female OFWs, most of them in domestic work, who reported long hours and multiple forms of abuse.
Female OFWs reported higher incidences across eight categories examined by the study: contract violations, maltreatment, immigration or document‑related problems, contract substitution, health issues, personal problems and sexual abuse, including rape.
Likhaan stressed that violence against women migrant workers—particularly domestic workers—has long been underreported.
Despite this, OWWA data show that of 444 reported cases of sexual abuse or harassment, 441 were filed by female OFWs and only three by male OFWs.
Of the 77 reported rape cases, 75 involved women.
Maltreatment or mistreatment cases were similarly skewed: 5,500 cases involved female OFWs, compared to 545 cases among men. Women also accounted for 2,272 of the 2,578 immigration or document‑related cases recorded.
Health risks, limited access
Likhaan warned that women migrant workers’ exposure to violence and exploitation also places them at greater risk of adverse health outcomes while limiting their access to care.
“In many countries, health services, including sexual and reproductive health services, are often inaccessible and unaffordable for those lacking proof of legal residency and medical insurance,” the group said.
OWWA data show that 1,227 health‑related cases were reported by female OFWs, compared with 455 by males.
Women with irregular migration status face even steeper barriers, often avoiding treatment for fear of arrest or deportation.
Recruitment agencies as gatekeepers
Before women ever reach a foreign employer, their working conditions are often shaped by recruitment agencies operating in the Philippines and abroad.
By law, agencies are barred from charging placement fees to domestic workers and are required to disclose full contract terms before deployment. Yet cases documented by Philippine media and migrant support groups show how violations persist.
In multiple reports by advocacy groups working with Filipino workers in the Middle East, women have described being deployed under one set of contract terms in Manila, only to be presented with altered wages, longer working hours or additional job duties upon arrival. Some said their passports were taken by employers or agencies, limiting their ability to leave abusive situations or seek help.
For women entering domestic and care work, this debt can become a powerful form of control. Workers who borrow to cover training, medical exams or documentation costs may feel unable to report abuse or walk away from exploitative conditions, fearing they will return home owing money they cannot repay.
What needs to change
Panao said the contrast between male and female deployment highlights a deeper structural problem in how care work is valued and protected.
“This contrast underscores the structural vulnerability of Filipina workers, who navigate economic necessity amid heightened exposure to harm,” he said.
He added that addressing the risks requires reforms at both the recruitment and welfare levels.
“Strengthening recruitment oversight, expanding legal aid, and improving welfare services are essential to ensure care work is recognised and protected as human work deserving of dignity and safety,” Panao said.
The Philippine government, through the Department of Migrant Workers, the POEA and OWWA, regulates recruitment agencies, negotiates labor agreements and operates welfare centers and legal assistance desks in major destination countries.
Rights groups argue, however, that reactive assistance is not enough, calling for stricter pre‑deployment screening of employers, faster sanctions against agencies found violating recruitment rules and greater transparency in how bilateral labor agreements are monitored and enforced. - Philippine Daily Inquirer/ANN
