The Debt Before the Dream

Inside the Hidden Loan Industry That Owns OFW Families: 5-6 Lenders, Loan Sharks, and the Mathematics of Perpetual Poverty


She borrowed ₱50,000 to send her husband to Saudi Arabia. The lender was a neighbor—a friendly woman who ran a sari-sari store and “helped” families in the barangay with cash needs. The terms seemed simple: pay back ₱60,000 over five months. That was 2019.

Five years later, she has paid more than ₱280,000. She still owes ₱47,000.

Her husband has sent home over ₱1.8 million in remittances during his time abroad. They have nothing to show for it. The house is still unpainted. The children still share bedrooms. The family still eats rice and sardines most days.

Where did the money go?

“To the lender,” she said. “Always to the lender. Every month, the first money goes to her. What is left is never enough. So we borrow again. And again. And again.”

Her name is Rosalie. She is forty-three years old. She has been in debt for her entire adult life. She will likely die in debt.

The lender’s name is Aling Nena. She is sixty-one years old. She owns seven properties in their barangay. Her children all graduated from private universities. She has never worked a day outside her sari-sari store.

Rosalie made Aling Nena rich. And she does not understand how it happened.

This is the story of the hidden loan industry that has attached itself to overseas Filipino workers—a shadow financial system that extracts billions of pesos annually from the families of migrants, that operates in plain sight yet beyond regulation, that transforms the economic opportunity of overseas work into perpetual debt servitude for millions of Filipino households.

It is a story of mathematics that most borrowers do not understand, of social relationships weaponized into financial control, of poverty that generates wealth for those who exploit it. It is a story that begins before OFWs ever leave the Philippines and continues long after they return.

This is the debt machine. This is how it works. This is why it is so hard to escape.


Part 1: The Architecture of Informal Lending

The 5-6 System: The Mathematics of Extraction

The term “5-6” (cinco-seis) describes the foundational loan structure of informal Filipino lending: borrow five, repay six. It sounds simple—a 20% fee for a loan. What borrowers rarely understand is that this 20% is not an annual interest rate. It is a weekly or monthly rate that, when annualized, reveals a system designed for perpetual extraction.

The basic 5-6 calculation:

  • Borrow ₱5,000
  • Repay ₱6,000
  • Repayment period: typically 1-4 weeks
  • Apparent cost: ₱1,000 (20%)

The annualized reality:

If a borrower takes a one-week 5-6 loan and rolls it over continuously:

  • Week 1: Borrow ₱5,000, owe ₱6,000
  • Week 2: Cannot repay full amount, interest on ₱6,000 adds ₱1,200, now owes ₱7,200
  • Week 4: Debt has grown to ₱8,640
  • Week 8: Debt has grown to ₱12,442
  • Week 12: Debt has grown to ₱17,916
  • Week 52 (one year): Original ₱5,000 debt has grown to ₱655,212

Effective annual interest rate: 13,104%

This is not a typographical error. The 5-6 system, applied with standard compounding, produces annual rates exceeding 13,000%. Even with monthly rather than weekly compounding, rates exceed 800% annually.

Of course, no borrower can pay such amounts. What happens instead is a cycle of partial payments and refinancing that keeps borrowers perpetually indebted while generating continuous cash flow for lenders.

The partial payment trap:

Most 5-6 borrowers do not pay in full at the end of the term. Instead, they make partial payments:

  • Borrow ₱5,000 (with ₱6,000 due)
  • Pay ₱1,500 at due date
  • Remaining balance (₱4,500) is refinanced at 5-6 terms
  • New amount due: ₱5,400
  • Pay ₱1,200 at next due date
  • Refinanced balance: ₱4,200, new amount due: ₱5,040
  • And so on, indefinitely

The borrower makes regular payments—demonstrating good faith, maintaining the relationship—but the principal never decreases significantly. They are paying interest on interest on interest, trapped in a structure mathematically designed to perpetuate itself.

The psychological mathematics:

Lenders understand that borrowers do not think in terms of annualized rates. Borrowers think: “I need ₱5,000 now. I can pay ₱6,000 in two weeks.” The ₱1,000 fee seems manageable—less than the cost of not having the money at all.

What borrowers do not calculate is the cumulative cost of rolling over loans month after month, year after year. The ₱1,000 fee becomes ₱12,000 annually becomes ₱120,000 over a decade—all on an original ₱5,000 principal that was never actually repaid.

The Lender Ecosystem

Informal lending in the Philippines operates through overlapping networks of lenders with different scales, methods, and relationships to borrowers.

The neighborhood 5-6 lender:

The most common type—individuals who lend within their immediate communities:

Profile: Often women, often operating from sari-sari stores or small businesses that provide cover for lending operations. They know their borrowers personally, live in the same barangay, attend the same church.

Scale: Typically lending to 20-100 borrowers at any time, with loan sizes from ₱1,000 to ₱50,000. Total portfolio: ₱500,000 to ₱5 million.

Methods: Daily or weekly collection, often door-to-door. Personal relationships provide social pressure for repayment.

Capital sources: Personal savings, family money, and increasingly—loans from larger lenders that are re-lent at higher rates.

The professional loan shark:

Larger-scale operators who treat lending as a primary business:

Profile: Often men, often with backgrounds in business, government, or enforcement. They may operate through intermediaries and employees.

Scale: Lending to hundreds of borrowers, with loan sizes from ₱10,000 to ₱500,000 or more. Total portfolio: ₱5 million to ₱100 million.

Methods: More formal documentation, scheduled payments, and enforcement mechanisms including threats, property seizure, and sometimes violence.

Capital sources: Business profits, bank loans (at formal rates, re-lent at informal rates), and sometimes connections to larger financial networks.

The syndicate operator:

At the top of the informal lending pyramid are sophisticated operations that function like unregulated banks:

Profile: Well-connected individuals, sometimes with political or law enforcement ties that provide protection. May operate through multiple fronts and intermediaries.

Scale: Lending portfolios of ₱100 million or more. Clients include businesses, politicians, and other lenders who borrow to re-lend.

Methods: Professional operations with documentation, collection staff, and enforcement capacity. May use legal mechanisms (property liens, post-dated checks) alongside informal pressure.

Capital sources: Accumulated wealth, business diversification, and sometimes connections to formal financial institutions or illegal enterprises.

The OFW-specific lender:

A specialized category focused on overseas worker families:

Profile: Individuals who have identified OFW families as profitable targets. May be former OFWs themselves, recruitment agency employees, or community members who recognized the opportunity.

Scale: Variable, but focused specifically on the OFW deployment cycle and remittance patterns.

Methods: Loans timed to deployment needs, repayment structured around remittance schedules, collection coordinated with known income timing.

Specialization: Deep knowledge of OFW economics—deployment costs, typical salaries by destination, remittance patterns—allows targeted lending and collection strategies.


Part 2: The OFW Debt Cycle

Before Departure: The Deployment Trap

The OFW debt cycle typically begins before the worker ever leaves the Philippines. Deployment costs create immediate borrowing needs that establish debt relationships lasting for years.

The deployment cost reality:

Deploying as an OFW requires substantial upfront investment:

Documentation: Passport, NBI clearance, medical examinations, training certificates—₱15,000-₱40,000 depending on requirements.

Agency fees: Despite regulations limiting what agencies can charge, many workers pay ₱30,000-₱150,000 or more in fees, often through indirect mechanisms that evade official limits.

Training and seminars: Required pre-departure training and language courses—₱5,000-₱30,000.

Travel and accommodation: Transportation to Manila for processing, lodging during documentation period—₱10,000-₱40,000.

Initial overseas costs: Money needed before first salary arrives—₱20,000-₱50,000.

Family buffer: Funds left with family to cover expenses before remittances begin—₱20,000-₱50,000.

Total typical deployment cost: ₱100,000-₱360,000

For workers from poor families—precisely the families most motivated to seek overseas employment—this sum is impossible to save. Borrowing is not optional; it is the only path to deployment.

Why formal lending fails:

Banks do not lend to prospective OFWs:

No collateral: Borrowers from poor families lack property to secure loans.

No credit history: Many prospective OFWs have never had bank accounts, much less credit relationships.

No income documentation: Workers leaving current jobs cannot prove stable income.

Risk profile: Banks view pre-deployment lending as high risk—the borrower might not deploy successfully, might not earn expected income, might not repay.

Government programs (OWWA loans, SSS loans, Pag-IBIG) exist but are limited:

Insufficient amounts: Maximum loan amounts rarely cover full deployment costs.

Slow processing: Application and approval can take weeks or months; deployment timelines do not wait.

Eligibility requirements: Many first-time OFWs do not meet membership or contribution requirements.

Bureaucratic barriers: Complex documentation requirements discourage applicants.

The gap between deployment costs and available formal financing is filled by informal lenders—5-6 operators, relatives, community loan sharks—who provide fast cash with minimal documentation.

The deployment loan trap:

A typical scenario:

Maria needs ₱150,000 to deploy as a domestic helper in Kuwait.

She borrows from three sources:

  • ₱50,000 from a 5-6 lender (Aling Tessie) at ₱60,000 repayment over 3 months
  • ₱60,000 from an uncle at ₱72,000 repayment over 6 months
  • ₱40,000 from a lending company at 5% monthly interest

Total borrowed: ₱150,000 Total repayment obligation: ₱132,000 in the first 6 months

Maria’s expected Kuwait salary: $400/month (approximately ₱22,000)

Maria’s expected remittance capacity (after living expenses): ₱15,000/month

Time to repay deployment debt at maximum remittance: 8.8 months

But Maria’s family also has living expenses—food, utilities, children’s school needs. They cannot survive on zero remittance while Maria repays debt. So Maria sends less than the maximum, debt repayment extends, interest accumulates, and the cycle begins.

During Deployment: The Remittance Extraction

Once the OFW is abroad and remitting, the debt relationship enters a new phase—one where the predictability of remittances becomes a tool for extraction.

The remittance timing trap:

Lenders know when OFWs are paid. They know when remittances arrive. They structure collection around this knowledge:

Collection timing: Lenders or their representatives visit families on the day remittances typically arrive, before money can be spent on other needs.

First-money claims: Social pressure ensures loan payments are prioritized: “Aling Tessie is waiting. We have to pay her first.”

Amount monitoring: Lenders in small communities often know how much OFWs earn. They may pressure families to increase payments based on perceived ability to pay.

The emergency reborrowing cycle:

Life does not pause for debt repayment. Families face expenses that exceed remaining remittances after debt service:

Medical emergencies: A hospitalized parent, a sick child, an accident—immediate cash needs that cannot wait.

School expenses: Enrollment fees, uniforms, supplies—predictable but still unbudgeted costs.

Housing repairs: A leaking roof, a broken appliance, necessary maintenance.

Social obligations: Funerals, weddings, fiestas—expenses that Filipino culture makes difficult to avoid.

When these needs arise, families borrow again. Often from the same lender—the relationship is already established, the process is familiar, the money is available. Each new loan adds to the debt burden, extending the repayment timeline, deepening the trap.

The interest rate escalator:

Some lenders increase interest rates for repeat borrowers who have demonstrated payment difficulties:

Initial loan: Standard 5-6 terms (20% per period) After late payment: 5-7 terms (40% per period) After multiple issues: 5-8 terms (60% per period) or additional “penalties”

Borrowers who struggle are charged more, making their struggle worse. The system punishes inability to pay with terms that make payment less possible.

The guarantor trap:

Lenders often require guarantors—family members or friends who agree to cover the debt if the primary borrower defaults.

For OFW families, this typically means:

Remaining family as guarantors: The spouse, parents, or siblings in the Philippines guarantee the OFW’s debt.

Property as guarantee: Land titles, vehicle registrations, or other assets are held by lenders as collateral.

Social network liability: Friends or extended family may guarantee loans, creating obligations that strain relationships.

When OFWs cannot pay—job loss, contract termination, salary theft—guarantors become targets. Lenders pursue them with the same vigor, extending the debt’s reach throughout the borrower’s social network.

After Return: The Debt Inheritance

The OFW debt cycle does not end when workers return home. Often, it intensifies.

The return shock:

OFWs typically return to the Philippines with less than they expected:

Incomplete savings: Years of debt service left little for accumulation.

Immediate expenses: Return involves costs—travel, resettlement, family needs that accumulated during absence.

Lost income: The salary that funded debt payments has ended.

Continued obligations: Debt remains even though the income source is gone.

The transition borrowing:

Returning OFWs often need to borrow for the transition period:

Business capital: Workers who want to start businesses need startup funds.

Job search support: Those seeking domestic employment need income while searching.

Family obligations: Children’s education, parents’ medical needs, accumulated family demands.

This transition borrowing typically occurs at informal rates—the returning OFW has no more access to formal credit than they had before departure. The debt cycle continues or restarts.

The generational transfer:

In the most devastating cases, debt passes between generations:

Parents’ debt to children: OFW parents return with debt their now-adult children are expected to help service.

Children’s deployment debt: Children of OFWs borrow to deploy themselves, often from the same lenders who trapped their parents.

Property-secured debt: Debt secured by family land affects all family members’ futures.

Families can remain trapped in informal debt across multiple generations, with each generation’s overseas work enriching lenders rather than building family wealth.


Part 3: The Lender’s Perspective

The Business Model

From the lender’s perspective, informal lending to OFW families is an extraordinarily attractive business.

The return profile:

Consider a lender with ₱1 million in capital, lending at standard 5-6 terms with monthly cycles:

Monthly interest generation: ₱200,000 (20% of principal) Annual interest generation: ₱2,400,000 Annual return on capital: 240%

Even accounting for defaults, collection costs, and capital requirements, returns far exceed any legitimate investment. A 10% default rate still yields over 200% annual return.

The risk mitigation:

Informal lenders manage risk through methods unavailable to formal institutions:

Social pressure: Borrowers who default face community shame. Lenders can publicize non-payment, damaging borrowers’ social standing.

Relationship leverage: Lenders who know borrowers’ families, employers, and networks can apply pressure through multiple channels.

Collateral flexibility: Informal lenders accept collateral formal lenders cannot—appliances, motorcycles, even future harvests. They can seize and sell such items without legal process.

Violence and threats: Some lenders enforce through intimidation. Borrowers fear physical harm, property damage, or harassment.

Legal mechanisms: Sophisticated lenders use post-dated checks, property liens, and other legal tools that create criminal liability (bouncing checks) or civil claims.

The portfolio approach:

Successful lenders do not depend on any single borrower:

Diversification: Lending to dozens or hundreds of borrowers means individual defaults do not threaten the business.

Relationship cultivation: Good borrowers—those who pay reliably—are offered larger loans, creating loyalty.

Network effects: Satisfied borrowers refer others. Lenders grow through community reputation.

Repeat business: Borrowers who repay one loan often need another. The customer relationship can last decades.

The OFW advantage:

Lending to OFW families offers specific advantages:

Predictable income: OFW remittances arrive regularly—more predictably than domestic wages.

Known amounts: Lenders can research typical salaries for different destinations and job categories.

Collectable borrowers: Family members in the Philippines can be pressured even when the OFW is abroad.

Repeated need: Deployment costs, family emergencies, and the cycle of overseas work create recurring borrowing needs.

The Lender’s Justification

Informal lenders rarely see themselves as predators. Their self-understanding often includes:

“I help people”:

Lenders genuinely do provide money when people need it. Without informal lending, many families could not deploy OFWs, could not handle emergencies, could not access cash when they need it.

“Where else would they get money?” is a common refrain. And it is a valid question—formal financial systems do fail these communities.

“I take real risks”:

Lending to poor people without collateral is genuinely risky. Borrowers do default. Lenders do lose money. The high interest rates, in this framing, compensate for genuine risk.

“Banks won’t lend to these people because they know they won’t pay back. I lend, and I get most of it back. But not all. The ones who pay cover the ones who don’t.”

“They know what they’re agreeing to”:

Borrowers enter these arrangements voluntarily. They are told the terms. They agree. No one forces them to borrow.

“I don’t trick anyone. I say: borrow five, pay back six. They say yes. That’s the deal. If they don’t want the deal, don’t borrow.”

“This is how the world works”:

In communities where informal lending has operated for generations, it seems natural. “My mother lent money. Her mother lent money. This is normal.”

The normalization of exploitation is one of its most powerful protections. When predatory lending is how things have always been done, questioning it seems naive or ungrateful.

The Dark Side

Not all lenders maintain even the fiction of mutual benefit. Some are straightforwardly predatory:

Targeting vulnerability:

Some lenders specifically seek out desperate borrowers—people in crisis who will accept any terms. Funeral expenses, medical emergencies, immediate threats—these create leverage that careful lenders exploit.

Deceptive practices:

Some lenders obscure true costs:

Hidden fees: Processing fees, documentation fees, collection fees added to loan amounts.

Confusing terms: Expressing interest in ways borrowers do not understand.

Verbal vs. written terms: Promising one thing verbally, documenting another.

Calculation manipulation: Computing balances in ways that benefit lenders.

Aggressive enforcement:

Some lenders use methods that cross into criminality:

Threats of violence: Explicit or implicit threats against borrowers or family members.

Property seizure: Taking collateral without legal process.

Harassment: Repeated contact, public shaming, interference with employment.

Violence: Physical assault as enforcement. Rare but not unknown.

Debt bondage:

In extreme cases, informal lending creates conditions meeting international definitions of debt bondage:

Perpetual debt: Structures designed to prevent repayment.

Labor extraction: Requiring work for the lender to service debt.

Coercion: Using debt as leverage for other demands.

These cases are uncommon but represent the logical extreme of a system that already normalizes exploitation.


Part 4: The Numbers—How Much Is Extracted

Estimating the Industry Scale

No official data tracks informal lending in the Philippines. The industry operates outside regulatory visibility. But various approaches allow estimation:

Bottom-up estimation:

OFW deployment financing:

  • 2.2 million OFWs deployed annually
  • Estimated 60-70% require informal borrowing for deployment
  • Average informal deployment borrowing: ₱80,000-₱120,000
  • Total annual informal deployment lending: ₱105-185 billion

OFW family emergency borrowing:

  • 10 million OFWs abroad at any time
  • Estimated 40-50% of families borrow informally at least once per year
  • Average informal borrowing per family per year: ₱30,000-₱60,000
  • Total annual informal emergency lending to OFW families: ₱120-300 billion

Interest and fees extracted:

  • Average effective interest rate on informal loans: 100-300% annually
  • Interest extracted from OFW families annually: ₱200-500 billion

Top-down estimation:

Total OFW remittances: Approximately ₱2 trillion annually

Estimated share absorbed by informal debt service: 15-25%

Total extraction: ₱300-500 billion annually

Comparison to formal sector:

For context, the entire Philippine formal banking sector’s consumer loan portfolio is approximately ₱800 billion. Informal lending to OFW families alone may represent 25-60% of this amount—a shadow financial sector of enormous scale.

The Family-Level Impact

What do these numbers mean for individual families?

Case study: The Martinez family

Ricardo Martinez worked in Saudi Arabia for 9 years (2014-2023).

Initial deployment borrowing:

  • ₱120,000 from three informal sources
  • Total repayment: ₱187,000 over 3 years

Emergency borrowing during deployment:

  • Year 2: ₱40,000 for wife’s surgery → repaid ₱58,000
  • Year 4: ₱50,000 for house repair → repaid ₱71,000
  • Year 5: ₱35,000 for daughter’s tuition → repaid ₱46,000
  • Year 7: ₱60,000 for mother’s hospitalization → repaid ₱84,000

Total borrowed during overseas career: ₱305,000

Total repaid: ₱446,000

Interest paid: ₱141,000 (46% of principal)

Ricardo’s total remittances over 9 years: Approximately ₱1.8 million

Percentage absorbed by informal debt service: 25%

Ricardo worked abroad for nearly a decade. One quarter of everything he earned—before housing, food, education, or savings—went to informal lenders.

The compound effect:

The Martinez family’s experience is not unusual. Across millions of OFW families, similar patterns play out:

  • Deployment debt sets the cycle in motion
  • Emergencies create additional borrowing
  • Interest consumes remittances
  • Limited remaining funds prevent accumulation
  • Poverty persists despite overseas income
  • The cycle repeats with the next generation

The Wealth Transfer

Informal lending creates a systematic wealth transfer from poor families to lenders:

From:

  • OFW families (predominantly poor, rural, less educated)
  • Distributed across millions of households
  • Each contributing relatively small amounts
  • No collective awareness of total extraction

To:

  • Informal lenders (ranging from neighborhood operators to wealthy individuals)
  • Concentrated among thousands of lenders
  • Each accumulating substantial wealth
  • Often reinvesting in more lending, property, or businesses

The mechanism:

This wealth transfer operates through debt relationships that appear voluntary and mutual but systematically favor lenders:

  • Information asymmetry: Lenders understand the mathematics; borrowers do not
  • Power asymmetry: Lenders have alternatives; desperate borrowers do not
  • Time horizon asymmetry: Lenders plan for the long term; borrowers address immediate needs
  • Structural asymmetry: The system is designed by lenders for lenders

The result is a continuous flow of wealth from the poorest families to individuals and groups with capital to lend. Overseas work that should lift families from poverty instead generates returns for those who were already not poor.


Part 5: The Enforcement Mechanisms

Social Pressure: The Soft Power

The most common enforcement mechanism in informal lending is not violence—it is shame.

The community knowledge:

In Filipino barangays, especially rural ones, everyone knows everyone’s business. Lenders operate with full community visibility:

  • Neighbors know who borrows and from whom
  • Payment and non-payment are observed
  • Financial struggles cannot be hidden
  • Reputation is constantly assessed

The shame dynamic:

Non-payment triggers social consequences:

Public discussion: Lenders may discuss non-paying borrowers with neighbors, spreading information about the default.

Church visibility: In communities centered on churches, financial standing affects social standing. Lenders and borrowers see each other weekly.

Family reputation: A borrower’s default reflects on their entire family. Children may be teased; relatives may be embarrassed.

Future exclusion: Defaulters may be refused credit by other lenders, excluded from community mutual aid, treated as untrustworthy.

The effectiveness:

For most borrowers, social pressure is sufficient to ensure payment. The prospect of community shame motivates payment even when it requires sacrificing other needs.

This makes informal lending remarkably efficient—collection costs are low because borrowers collect themselves, driven by fear of social consequences rather than formal enforcement.

Escalating Pressure: From Soft to Hard

When social pressure fails, lenders escalate:

Stage 1: Increased visits

Lenders or collectors begin visiting more frequently—daily rather than weekly. Each visit reminds the borrower and signals to neighbors that there is a problem.

Stage 2: Family contact

Lenders contact the borrower’s extended family—parents, siblings, in-laws. This expands the shame radius and recruits additional people to pressure the borrower.

For OFW families, this often means contacting the overseas worker directly. A lender’s message to an OFW in Saudi Arabia: “Your family is not paying. You need to send more money.”

Stage 3: Employer/community contact

In more aggressive cases, lenders may contact borrowers’ employers, church leaders, or other authority figures. This risks the borrower’s employment and community standing.

Stage 4: Property focus

Lenders begin discussing collateral:

  • “You know I’m holding the title to your lot.”
  • “That motorcycle you put up as collateral…”
  • “Your appliances are worth something.”

This signals that seizure is being considered and pressures borrowers to prioritize payment.

Stage 5: Seizure

Lenders take collateral—with or without clear legal right. Appliances are removed from homes. Motorcycles are driven away. Land titles are claimed.

The legal status of such seizures is often ambiguous. Borrowers may have signed documents authorizing it. Or lenders may act without clear authority, relying on borrowers’ ignorance of their rights and reluctance to involve authorities.

Stage 6: Threats and violence

In cases involving larger amounts or particularly aggressive lenders:

Verbal threats: Explicit statements about physical harm, property damage, or harm to family members.

Intimidating behavior: Sending “enforcers” to borrowers’ homes, following borrowers, demonstrating capacity for violence.

Property damage: Vandalism, arson, destruction of crops or livestock.

Physical violence: Assault against borrowers or family members.

Such violence is not common—most informal lending operates through softer pressure. But the possibility of violence hangs over the system, providing ultimate enforcement for cases where other pressure fails.

Legal Mechanisms: The Sophisticated Approach

More sophisticated lenders use legal tools that create criminal liability for non-payment:

Post-dated checks:

Borrowers are required to provide post-dated checks covering loan repayment. Under Philippine law (Batas Pambansa Blg. 22), issuing a check that bounces is a criminal offense.

This transforms debt default from a civil matter into potential criminal prosecution. Lenders can threaten jail time for non-payment.

“The check you gave me for next month—if it bounces, that’s a BP 22 case. You could go to jail.”

Promissory notes:

Formal promissory notes create documented obligations that can be pursued through courts. While court processes are slow and expensive, the threat of legal action provides leverage.

Property liens:

Lenders may require borrowers to sign documents creating liens on property—land, vehicles, other assets. These liens can potentially be enforced through legal process.

Powers of attorney:

Some lenders require borrowers to sign powers of attorney authorizing the lender to act on their behalf—including selling property. These documents may or may not be legally valid but create uncertainty that lenders can exploit.

The legal leverage:

These mechanisms do not usually result in actual prosecution or court action. The threat is the point:

  • “If you don’t pay, I’ll file the BP 22 case.”
  • “My lawyer is ready to go after your property.”
  • “You signed these documents. You know what happens.”

Most borrowers do not understand their legal rights or the actual enforceability of documents they signed. Lenders exploit this ignorance, creating fear that drives payment.


Part 6: Why Borrowers Stay Trapped

The Information Gap

Most borrowers do not understand the mathematics destroying them.

What borrowers see:

“I borrowed ₱50,000. I pay ₱2,500 every month. That seems manageable.”

What is actually happening:

At 5-6 monthly terms (20% monthly interest), the borrower’s ₱2,500 monthly payment covers only half the interest. The principal is not decreasing; it is increasing.

Month 1: ₱50,000 principal + ₱10,000 interest – ₱2,500 payment = ₱57,500 balance Month 6: Balance has grown to ₱85,000+ Month 12: Balance has grown to ₱130,000+

The borrower believes they are repaying; they are actually going deeper into debt.

Why the gap persists:

Limited financial education: Many borrowers have minimal formal education. Compound interest is a concept they have never learned.

Deliberate obscurity: Lenders do not explain the mathematics. They speak in simple terms (5-6) that obscure exponential growth.

Cognitive challenges: Human brains are not evolved to intuitively grasp exponential growth. Even educated people struggle with compound interest calculations.

Motivated reasoning: Borrowers want to believe they are making progress. Acknowledging the mathematics means acknowledging entrapment.

The Alternatives Gap

Borrowers remain in exploitative debt because they perceive no alternatives.

Formal credit inaccessibility:

As discussed, banks and formal lenders do not serve this population. The gap between formal finance and informal lending is filled by predatory terms.

Family and network limits:

Borrowers may have already exhausted support from relatives. Or relatives are equally poor. Or family relationships have been strained by previous borrowing.

Government program limitations:

Government programs exist but do not meet the need:

OWWA and SSS loans: Limited amounts, slow processing, eligibility requirements.

Microfinance: Often still expensive (though less than 5-6) and may require group membership or regular attendance.

LGU programs: Inconsistent availability, bureaucratic barriers, limited funds.

The alternative trap:

When borrowers seek alternatives to their current lender, they often find only other informal lenders. Escaping one predatory relationship means entering another.

Some “consolidation” lenders explicitly target borrowers with multiple existing debts, offering to pay off current obligations in exchange for a new (larger, longer) loan. This may lower monthly payments while increasing total extraction.

The Relationship Trap

Informal lending is embedded in social relationships that make exit difficult.

The friendly lender:

Many lenders are neighbors, church members, relatives, or long-time community members. The lending relationship exists within a web of other relationships.

“Aling Tessie has been our neighbor for twenty years. She helped us when my mother was sick. We can’t just not pay her.”

The obligation network:

Borrowing creates obligations beyond the financial. Lenders may expect:

  • Deference and respect
  • Assistance with lender’s own needs
  • Loyalty in community disputes
  • Political support (if the lender has political interests)

These obligations can be as binding as the financial ones.

The exit shame:

Leaving a lending relationship—through default, formal consolidation, or simply walking away—carries social costs:

  • The lender will speak negatively about the borrower
  • Community members may side with the lender
  • Future borrowing from any source becomes more difficult
  • The borrower is labeled unreliable

These costs keep borrowers in relationships they would otherwise exit.

The Cycle Reinforcement

Each element of the trap reinforces the others:

Limited information leads to bad borrowing decisions

Bad borrowing decisions create financial distress

Financial distress limits alternatives

Limited alternatives mean continued borrowing from predatory sources

Continued predatory borrowing deepens financial distress

Deepening distress increases dependence on the lending relationship

Dependence makes exit more difficult

The cycle is self-reinforcing. Once inside, borrowers find each attempt to exit blocked by the consequences of being trapped in the first place.


Part 7: The Human Stories

Nenita, 53, Ilocos Norte

Her husband went to Taiwan in 2007. He has been there ever since—sixteen years—working in a factory that makes electronic components.

“When he left, we borrowed ₱80,000 from a couple here in our barangay. They are nice people. They said pay what you can, when you can.”

“The first year, we paid ₱8,000 every month. We thought we were doing well. After one year, I asked how much we still owed. They said ₱95,000.”

“I didn’t understand. We paid ₱96,000. How could we owe more than we borrowed?”

“They explained it was the interest. Twenty percent per month. I didn’t know what that meant.”

“So we kept paying. ₱8,000 every month. Sometimes ₱10,000. Whatever we could. My husband worked overtime. He didn’t come home for three years to save on airfare.”

“After five years, we had paid almost ₱500,000. I asked again how much we owed. They said ₱60,000.”

“I cried. I told my husband, we have paid so much and we still owe so much. He didn’t believe me at first. He thought I was spending the money on something else.”

“We finally paid them off in 2015. Eight years to pay back ₱80,000. We paid more than ₱700,000 total.”

“My husband is still in Taiwan. We have nothing saved. The house is the same as when he left. Our children are grown now—they borrowed from the same couple to deploy themselves.”

“I tell them: don’t do what we did. Keep track of everything. Understand what you’re signing.”

“But they need money, and that couple is there to give it. What else can they do?”

Mark, 29, Cavite

He deployed to Dubai in 2019, immediately after college. He worked as an engineering assistant for a construction company.

“My parents borrowed from everywhere to send me. ₱30,000 from my uncle. ₱40,000 from a lender my mother knew. ₱50,000 from a lending company. ₱25,000 from a coworker of my father.”

“I was supposed to earn good money—₱60,000 per month. I would pay everything back in one year. That was the plan.”

“First month, I sent ₱40,000 home. My mother called crying. She said after paying all the loans, there was only ₱8,000 left. How would they eat? How would they pay for my younger sister’s school?”

“I didn’t understand. I thought my salary would be enough for everything. I didn’t know how much we actually owed.”

“The lending company—they were the worst. They said the interest was ‘5 percent per month.’ I thought that meant 5 percent of the original amount. No. They were calculating 5 percent on whatever we owed, including the interest we hadn’t paid yet. The debt kept growing.”

“After COVID hit, I lost my job. I came home in 2021 with nothing. The debts were still there. We owed more than when I left.”

“I’m working in a call center now. Every month, I give my mother ₱15,000 for the debts. After two years of this, we still owe ₱70,000 to the lending company.”

“My girlfriend wants to get married. I told her we can’t until the debts are cleared. She’s tired of waiting. I don’t blame her.”

“I went abroad to build a future. All I built was debt.”

Aling Carmen, 67, Nueva Ecija

She is a lender. She has been lending for over forty years.

“My mother started lending when I was a girl. She had a small store, and people needed money. She helped them. That’s how I learned.”

“I don’t think I am doing something wrong. I provide money when people need it. Where else would they get it? The bank? Ha!”

“Yes, I make money. Of course I make money. Is that wrong? I take risks. People don’t pay me back sometimes. I lose money too.”

“The ones who complain about interest—did they complain when I gave them money for their child’s tuition? Did they complain when I gave them money for medicine? No. They thanked me. They said I was the only one who would help.”

“Now they say I charged too much. But they knew the terms. Five-six. Everyone knows what five-six means. If they didn’t want to pay, they shouldn’t have borrowed.”

“Some of them—I have helped them for thirty years. Three generations of the same family. I lent to the grandmother, the mother, and now the granddaughter. Am I exploiting them? Or am I the only one who has been there for them all this time?”

“The young ones now talk about ‘financial literacy’ and ‘predatory lending.’ Big words. When their families needed money, where were these big words? I was there. I am always there.”

“Maybe I am the villain in their story. But in my story, I am the one who helped when no one else would.”


Part 8: The Systemic Failures

Why Regulation Fails

Informal lending persists despite its harms because regulation fails at every level:

Legal ambiguity:

Philippine usury laws were effectively suspended in 1983, when CB Circular No. 905 lifted interest rate ceilings. This means there is no legal maximum interest rate—5-6 lending is not technically illegal, just exploitative.

Attempts to reimpose usury limits have failed politically. Lenders argue that caps would eliminate credit access for the poor. The informal lending lobby—though not formally organized—has successfully blocked reform.

Enforcement challenges:

Even where laws exist (against harassment, threats, extortion), enforcement is practically impossible:

Scale: Thousands of informal lenders operate in every province. Enforcement resources cannot address the volume.

Evidence: Loan transactions often leave no paper trail. Proving terms, proving payments, proving abuse is difficult.

Victim reluctance: Borrowers fear retaliation if they report lenders. They also fear losing future credit access.

Local politics: Lenders are often locally influential. Police and local officials may be reluctant to act against them—or may be borrowers themselves.

Regulatory gaps:

Informal lenders operate outside any licensing or oversight regime:

No registration requirements: Anyone can lend money. No government agency tracks who is lending, to whom, at what terms.

No disclosure requirements: Lenders need not explain effective interest rates, total costs, or repayment implications.

No conduct standards: No rules govern collection practices, documentation requirements, or borrower protections.

No data collection: No government body gathers information about informal lending volumes, terms, or harms.

The industry is invisible to the state—known to exist but unmeasured and unmonitored.

Why Alternative Finance Fails

Programs intended to provide alternatives to informal lending consistently underperform:

Microfinance limitations:

The microfinance sector—NGOs, cooperatives, and regulated microfinance institutions—serves some populations but leaves gaps:

Still expensive: Microfinance interest rates of 2-5% monthly, while far below 5-6 rates, are still high. Rates reflect genuine costs of small-loan administration plus sustainability requirements.

Group requirements: Many microfinance programs require group membership, regular meetings, and collective guarantee. OFW families with unpredictable schedules and overseas members may not fit this model.

Process requirements: Application, documentation, approval—the process takes time that emergency borrowers do not have.

Insufficient amounts: Microfinance loans may be too small for deployment costs or major emergencies.

Government program failures:

Government lending programs face structural problems:

Bureaucracy: Application processes that take weeks or months do not serve emergency needs or deployment timelines.

Corruption: Some programs are captured by local elites who access funds intended for the poor.

Sustainability conflicts: Programs that offer very low rates often require ongoing subsidies. When subsidies end, programs collapse.

Coverage: Programs are not available everywhere. Rural areas, small barangays, distant provinces may have no access.

Banking sector absence:

Formal banks have not developed products for the OFW deployment market:

Risk perception: Banks view pre-deployment lending as too risky—no income proof, no collateral, uncertain outcomes.

Cost structure: Small loans are expensive to administer. The per-loan cost of processing a ₱50,000 deployment loan may exceed the interest revenue.

Cultural distance: Banks are unfamiliar with OFW economics and community structures. They lack the local knowledge that informal lenders possess.

Regulatory barriers: Banking regulations may not accommodate the flexibility needed for this market.

The result is a persistent gap—formal alternatives that are available but inadequate, leaving informal lending as the default.

Why Borrowers Do Not Organize

Exploited borrowers are a large population—millions of Filipino families. Yet they have not organized to demand change:

Atomization:

Each borrower experiences their debt individually. They do not see themselves as part of a class with shared interests. The shame of debt discourages discussion; borrowers hide their struggles rather than sharing them.

Internalized blame:

Borrowers often blame themselves:

  • “I shouldn’t have borrowed so much.”
  • “I should have understood the terms.”
  • “Other people manage—why can’t I?”

This self-blame prevents recognition of systemic exploitation. Borrowers see personal failure rather than predatory design.

Lender relationships:

Borrowers often have ongoing relationships with lenders they fear disrupting. Organizing against lenders might cut off future credit access. The leverage informal lenders hold prevents collective action.

Power asymmetries:

Lenders are often locally powerful—property owners, business operators, politically connected. Borrowers are poor, vulnerable, and isolated. Challenging entrenched power requires resources and protection that borrowers lack.

Absence of organizing infrastructure:

No NGOs, unions, or advocacy organizations focus specifically on informal lending victims. The OFW advocacy space addresses recruitment abuse, workplace conditions, and repatriation issues—but rarely debt.


Part 9: What Would Help

For Policy Makers

Reinstate interest rate limits:

The suspension of usury laws was presented as promoting credit access. The result has been predatory access. Reasonable interest rate ceilings—perhaps 5-10% monthly, still high but far below 5-6 rates—would constrain the most exploitative lending.

Enforcement would be challenging but not impossible. Criminal penalties for egregiously excessive interest could deter the worst actors even without comprehensive enforcement.

Require informal lender registration:

A simple registration system—requiring anyone who lends as a regular business to register with a local or national agency—would create visibility into the industry. Registration would not require approval, just identification.

Registered lenders could be required to provide borrowers with basic disclosures: effective annual interest rate, total repayment amount, comparison to formal alternatives.

Create deployment financing alternatives:

The deployment financing gap is specific and addressable. Options include:

OWWA deployment loan expansion: Increase maximum amounts to cover actual deployment costs. Streamline processing to meet deployment timelines. Accept applications from workers with accepted job offers, even without previous overseas employment.

Recruitment agency financing regulation: Require agencies that provide or arrange financing to disclose terms and limit interest rates. Hold agencies accountable for lending terms offered to their workers.

Commercial bank incentives: Tax benefits, guarantee programs, or regulatory flexibility could encourage banks to enter the deployment lending market.

Cooperative or NGO programs: Targeted funding for non-profit lenders focused on OFW deployment could create alternatives at reasonable rates.

Fund financial education:

Borrowers trapped by mathematics they do not understand could be protected by education:

School curriculum: Basic financial literacy—compound interest, loan evaluation, debt dangers—should be part of secondary education.

Pre-departure seminars: OFW orientation should include financial literacy components covering debt management, remittance planning, and lending risks.

Community programs: NGOs, LGUs, and churches could offer financial literacy programs targeting populations vulnerable to predatory lending.

For Advocacy Organizations

Document and publicize:

The informal lending industry operates in shadow. Bringing it into light through documentation, research, and publicity could create pressure for change:

Case documentation: Collecting detailed stories of lending harm creates evidence for advocacy.

Research: Systematic study of lending patterns, terms, and impacts would provide data currently absent.

Media: Journalism focusing on predatory lending could shift public perception and political attention.

Provide direct support:

Advocacy organizations could offer services that help individual borrowers:

Financial counseling: Helping borrowers understand their situations, evaluate options, and develop escape strategies.

Legal assistance: Supporting borrowers facing illegal collection practices, unfair terms, or property seizure.

Debt negotiation: In some cases, third-party negotiation can achieve better terms or settlement amounts.

Build borrower consciousness:

The atomization of borrowers prevents collective action. Advocacy could create spaces for shared understanding:

Support groups: Borrowers meeting others with similar experiences may recognize systemic patterns rather than personal failure.

Storytelling: Public sharing of lending experiences could reduce shame and build solidarity.

Organizing: Where conditions permit, collective action—demands to lenders, pressure on local officials, public campaigns—could shift power.

For OFW Families

Calculate before borrowing:

Before accepting any loan, calculate the full cost:

Total repayment amount: Principal plus all interest over the full term.

Effective annual rate: What percentage would you pay per year? (5-6 monthly = 240% annually)

Comparison: How does this compare to formal alternatives you might access?

If you cannot calculate this yourself, find someone who can help. Do not borrow without understanding what you will pay.

Exhaust alternatives first:

Before borrowing informally, explore every alternative:

Family and friends: Relatives who can lend at zero or low interest.

Government programs: OWWA, SSS, Pag-IBIG, LGU programs. Yes, they are slow and bureaucratic—but the cost savings are enormous.

Microfinance and cooperatives: More expensive than banks but far cheaper than 5-6.

Employer advances: Some recruitment agencies offer salary advances that can cover deployment costs.

Only borrow informally after confirming that alternatives are truly unavailable.

Document everything:

If you must borrow informally:

Written records: Get terms in writing. Keep copies.

Payment records: Document every payment—date, amount, remaining balance. Get receipts.

Calculate running totals: Track how much you have paid in total and what you still owe.

Documentation protects against disputes and helps you understand your actual situation.

Pay strategically:

If you are in informal debt:

Prioritize highest-rate debt: Pay off the most expensive debt first (usually 5-6 loans), even while maintaining minimum payments on other obligations.

Consolidate carefully: Consolidation loans can help—but only if the consolidated terms are actually better. Calculate the total cost before consolidating.

Negotiate: Lenders may accept reduced payoff amounts for immediate settlement. If you have a lump sum (from savings, sale of assets, or help from relatives), offer a reduced amount for immediate payment.

Seek help:

You do not have to manage this alone:

Financial counselors: NGOs and some government programs offer free financial counseling.

Legal aid: If lenders are using illegal collection practices, legal aid organizations may help.

Family discussion: Bringing debt into open family discussion can mobilize resources and reduce the isolation that makes debt harder to manage.


Part 10: The Reckoning

What the Numbers Mean

Every year, approximately ₱300-500 billion flows from poor Filipino families—primarily OFW families—to informal lenders. This is wealth created by overseas sacrifice, captured by those who did nothing but have capital to lend.

Every year, millions of OFWs work abroad under difficult conditions, separated from families, enduring loneliness and exploitation, sending money home that they believe will build better futures.

And every year, a substantial portion of that money—10%, 20%, sometimes 50% or more—vanishes into debt service. Not into homes or education or businesses. Into the pockets of lenders who profit from desperation.

The informal lending industry has extracted more wealth from OFW families over the past fifty years than any other single sector. No employer, no recruiter, no government agency has taken more.

And it has done so legally, invisibly, with the cooperation of its own victims and the indifference of everyone else.

What Justice Would Require

Ending the informal lending trap would require changes that powerful interests oppose:

Interest rate limits that would reduce lender profits.

Registration requirements that would expose an industry that operates in shadow.

Alternative finance that would require public investment and political will.

Financial education that would create informed borrowers resistant to exploitation.

Enforcement resources that would hold predatory lenders accountable.

None of these changes is impossible. None requires technology that does not exist or resources the Philippines cannot afford. What they require is political will to confront an industry that has operated without constraint for generations.

The obstacle is not impossibility. It is indifference.

Informal lending victimizes the poor, the rural, the less educated—populations with limited political power. Lenders are often locally influential, politically connected, or simply invisible to those who make policy.

The victims are silent because shame silences them. The beneficiaries are silent because silence serves their interests. And so the extraction continues, year after year, generation after generation.

The Moral Question

What do we owe to people who have been systematically exploited?

The OFW mother who borrowed to send her husband abroad, who has paid three times what she borrowed, who will never escape debt—what does she deserve?

The returning OFW who worked for a decade abroad and has nothing because interest consumed his earnings—what recognition does he merit?

The children who inherit their parents’ debt, who deploy themselves to pay obligations they did not create—what future should they have?

These are not abstract questions. They are questions about real people—millions of real people—whose lives have been shaped by a system designed to extract from them.

The informal lending industry is not an accident. It is not a failure of individual borrowers. It is a system that functions exactly as designed—transferring wealth from those who have little to those who have more.

Acknowledging this system, naming it, measuring it, confronting it—these are the first steps toward changing it.

The Final Truth

Here is what the hidden loan industry does not want borrowers to understand:

The mathematics are not neutral. 5-6 terms are designed to create perpetual debt. They are not simply “expensive”—they are structured to extract maximum value over maximum time.

The relationship is not mutual. Lenders and borrowers are not partners with shared interests. Lenders benefit when borrowers remain in debt longer. The lender’s success requires the borrower’s failure.

The system is not inevitable. Other countries have interest rate limits, informal lender registration, alternative finance systems that actually reach the poor. The Philippines could have these too.

The shame is misplaced. Borrowers who are trapped should not be ashamed. They are victims of a system designed to trap them. The shame belongs to those who designed and profit from the trap.

Escape is possible. Difficult, but possible. With information, strategy, and support, borrowers can exit predatory debt. It requires understanding the trap and systematically working to escape it.

The hidden loan industry has operated in darkness for too long. It has extracted too much from too many. It has turned the sacrifice of overseas work into profit for those who sacrificed nothing.

It is time for light. It is time for accountability. It is time for the families who have been trapped to understand what trapped them—and to demand something better.

The debt before the dream does not have to be the end of the dream.

But first, we have to see it clearly.

Now we see it.

What happens next is up to all of us.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *.

*
*