The Kafala Trap
Debt, Deception, and Survival: The Hidden Economy of Filipino Domestic Workers in the Gulf
She paid ₱150,000 to an agency that promised her a housekeeping job in Kuwait with a salary of $400 per month. When she arrived, her passport was confiscated, her contract was swapped for one paying $200, and she discovered she would be “shared” between three households. She was not a worker. She was a commodity.
This is not a story from the 1990s. This happened in 2024.
An estimated 2.2 million Overseas Filipino Workers labor in the Middle East, with roughly 30 percent employed as domestic workers—cleaners, nannies, caregivers, and cooks who maintain households across Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, Kuwait, Qatar, Bahrain, and Oman. They are the invisible backbone of Gulf prosperity, enabling dual-income professional families to function while their own children grow up without them.
Yet domestic workers occupy a legal gray zone unlike any other labor category. They are excluded from the labor laws that protect other workers in most Gulf states. They live inside their employers’ homes, beyond the reach of inspectors. And until recently, they were bound by the kafala system—a sponsorship model that ties workers to individual employers, making escape from abuse legally equivalent to absconding.
Reforms have been announced. Progress has been proclaimed. But on the ground, in the villas and apartments where Filipino women work sixteen-hour days, how much has actually changed?
Part 1: Understanding Kafala—A System Designed for Control
The Architecture of Dependence
The word kafala means “sponsorship” in Arabic. Under this system, a migrant worker’s legal status in a Gulf country is tied entirely to their employer, known as the kafeel. The employer controls whether the worker can enter the country, change jobs, or leave. Without the kafeel’s permission, even returning home can be illegal.
For domestic workers, the implications are profound. Unlike construction workers who live in labor camps and work on job sites where inspections occasionally occur, domestic workers live inside private homes. Their workplace is legally protected from government intrusion. Their employer is also their landlord, their visa sponsor, and often the holder of their passport—despite laws in most Gulf states technically prohibiting passport confiscation.
This creates a power imbalance so severe that labor rights organizations have compared it to modern slavery. A worker who is abused cannot simply quit. Leaving an employer without permission means losing legal status, facing arrest as an “absconding” worker, detention, and deportation with a ban on future entry. The system is designed to make workers stay, regardless of conditions.
The Promises of Reform
In recent years, Gulf states have announced kafala reforms amid international pressure:
Saudi Arabia introduced changes in 2021 allowing workers to change employers and exit the country without employer permission in certain circumstances. The reforms were hailed as historic.
Qatar eliminated the requirement for exit permits and introduced a minimum wage in 2020, motivated partly by scrutiny ahead of the 2022 World Cup.
The UAE has introduced various contract reforms and, in 2022, expanded labor law protections to domestic workers for the first time.
Kuwait established a minimum wage for domestic workers and created a dedicated department for their complaints.
On paper, progress appears substantial. But implementation tells a different story.
The Gap Between Law and Reality
A 2024 investigation by Human Rights Watch found that despite Saudi Arabia’s reforms, many workers still cannot change employers in practice. The system requires employer consent through a government app—and many employers simply refuse, facing no penalty for doing so. Workers who leave abusive situations still risk “absconding” charges.
In Kuwait, the domestic worker minimum wage of KD 60 (approximately $195) per month is routinely ignored. Contracts signed in the Philippines promising $400 are swapped upon arrival for local contracts at half that amount. Workers who complain are told to accept the terms or be sent home—after their families have already gone into debt to fund their deployment.
The fundamental problem is that domestic workers remain excluded from standard labor law in most Gulf states. They are governed by separate regulations with weaker protections, limited inspection mechanisms, and enforcement that relies on workers filing complaints—workers who live in their employers’ homes, often without phones, days off, or knowledge of their rights.
Part 2: The Recruitment Pipeline—Where Exploitation Begins
The Debt Trap
Exploitation does not begin in the Gulf. It begins in the Philippines.
Despite regulations prohibiting recruitment fees for domestic workers, the practice remains widespread. A 2023 study by the International Labour Organization found that Filipino domestic workers bound for the Middle East paid an average of $1,200 in fees—equivalent to three to six months of their expected salary. Some paid significantly more.
These fees are typically financed through loans from the recruitment agencies themselves, from informal lenders, or from family members who mortgage land or borrow against future harvests. Workers arrive in the Gulf already in debt, psychologically bound to endure whatever conditions they encounter until that debt is repaid.
The structure is ingeniously coercive. A worker who has borrowed ₱100,000 cannot afford to fail. Reporting abuse means risking termination, deportation, and returning home with nothing to show for the family’s sacrifice. The debt functions as invisible chains, more effective than any physical restraint.
The Contract Substitution Game
The mechanics of deception are well-documented yet continue largely unchecked.
In Manila, a worker signs a POEA-approved contract specifying a $400 monthly salary, one day off per week, eight hours of work per day, and a private room. The contract meets Philippine standards and satisfies government requirements for deployment.
Upon arrival in Kuwait City or Riyadh, the worker is presented with a different contract—in Arabic, which she cannot read. She is told this is “just a local formality.” The new contract specifies $200 per month, no guaranteed day off, and contains no limits on working hours. She is told to sign or be sent back immediately.
Exhausted from travel, disoriented in a foreign country, indebted, and without her passport (collected “for processing”), she signs.
This practice—contract substitution—is technically illegal under both Philippine and Gulf state regulations. Yet it persists because enforcement is minimal, complicit agencies face little consequence, and workers who report the practice are often the ones punished through blacklisting or deportation.
The Role of Sub-Agents
The Philippine recruitment system relies heavily on sub-agents—informal recruiters who operate in provinces, identifying potential workers and funneling them to licensed agencies in Manila. These sub-agents are often unregistered and unregulated. They earn commissions by volume, creating incentives to recruit as many workers as possible regardless of whether legitimate jobs await them.
Sub-agents frequently make promises that licensed agencies later deny responsibility for. A worker might be told she will care for one child in a small family, only to discover upon arrival that she will serve a household of fifteen. The sub-agent is unreachable. The agency claims no knowledge of any such promise. The worker has no recourse.
Part 3: Inside the Employer’s Home—Conditions Behind Closed Doors
The Spectrum of Experience
It is important to acknowledge that experiences vary enormously. Many Filipino domestic workers in the Gulf report positive relationships with their employers—fair treatment, reasonable hours, genuine respect, and even lasting bonds with families they serve for years. Some employers pay above minimum wage, provide private rooms with air conditioning, ensure regular days off, and facilitate communication with workers’ families.
These employers exist, and their workers often return to the same households contract after contract. The tragedy is that workers have no way to know in advance which type of employer they will receive. It is a lottery with life-altering stakes.
When Things Go Wrong
The abuses documented by human rights organizations, embassy officials, and workers themselves form a grim catalog:
Wage theft remains the most common complaint. Workers report receiving partial payment, irregular payment, or no payment at all for months. Employers claim deductions for food, accommodation, or “mistakes.” Some workers complete two-year contracts and return home with a fraction of their promised earnings.
Excessive working hours are endemic. Domestic workers routinely report eighteen-hour days, from before the family wakes until after everyone sleeps. Rest breaks are not guaranteed. Days off—legally mandated in most Gulf states—are frequently denied. Workers describe being “on call” twenty-four hours a day, sleeping outside children’s rooms to respond immediately to any need.
Food deprivation appears in case after case. Workers report being given inadequate food, expired food, or food remaining after the family has eaten. Some describe constant hunger as a defining feature of their employment. In extreme cases, workers have been hospitalized for malnutrition.
Physical and sexual abuse represent the most severe violations. Embassy shelter statistics tell part of the story—hundreds of Filipino domestic workers flee to the Philippine embassy in Kuwait alone each year, many bearing visible injuries. But these represent only workers who escape. Those without days off, without phones, without knowledge of embassy locations, remain invisible.
Passport confiscation continues despite being technically illegal throughout the Gulf. The practice is so normalized that many workers do not realize it violates the law. Without passports, workers cannot leave, cannot prove their identity, and cannot access services. They are trapped.
The Isolation Factor
Unlike factory workers who labor alongside others, domestic workers often work alone. They may be the only employee in a household, with no colleagues to compare conditions against, no witnesses to abuse, and no one to help them escape.
Many employers restrict phone access and internet usage. Workers report having their phones confiscated upon arrival, with calls home permitted only occasionally under employer supervision. This isolation makes organizing impossible, complaints difficult, and psychological endurance the only survival strategy.
One worker described her situation in testimony to a Philippine Senate hearing: “I did not know if what was happening to me was normal or not. I had no one to ask. I thought maybe this is just how it is.”
Part 4: When Workers Fight Back—Escape, Shelters, and the Long Road Home
The Embassy Shelters
Every Philippine embassy in the Gulf operates a shelter for distressed workers—a testament to the scale of the problem. The shelter in Kuwait, known as Bahay Kalinga, regularly houses hundreds of workers who have fled abusive employers.
Reaching the shelter requires extraordinary initiative. Workers must identify an opportunity to escape—a door left unlocked, an errand outside the home, a sympathetic family member. They must know the embassy exists and how to reach it. They must make the journey, often without money, phones, or identification. Many arrive with nothing but the clothes they wore while working.
Inside the shelters, workers wait. They wait for employers to be contacted. They wait for wages to be negotiated. They wait for exit permits or travel documents. They wait for flights home. The process can take months. Some workers have spent over a year in embassy shelters, trapped in bureaucratic limbo while their families in the Philippines wonder when—or if—they will return.
The “Absconding” Problem
Workers who leave their employers, even to escape abuse, risk being charged with “absconding”—a criminal offense in Gulf legal systems. An absconding charge can result in detention, fines, and a permanent ban from the country.
This creates perverse outcomes. Abused workers who flee to safety face potential prosecution. Employers who confiscate passports, withhold wages, or commit assault often face no consequences. The system criminalizes victims while protecting perpetrators.
Philippine officials have worked to negotiate protections for workers facing absconding charges, but the process is slow and inconsistent. Much depends on the specific employer, the specific violation, and the willingness of Gulf authorities to intervene.
Repatriation and Its Aftermath
The government’s repatriation process is free for workers who have fled abuse or been illegally terminated. But returning home often marks the beginning of another struggle.
Workers who return early may still owe money to recruiters, lenders, or family members. They return without the savings they expected to accumulate. Some face stigma—whispers that they must have done something wrong to be sent home. Mental health support is limited. Job prospects are uncertain.
A 2023 study by the Scalabrini Migration Center found that repatriated domestic workers experienced significantly higher rates of depression and anxiety than OFWs who completed their contracts. The trauma of abuse, combined with the financial failure of early return, creates lasting psychological damage.
Part 5: The Numbers Behind the Headlines
Death in the Gulf
Between 2019 and 2023, an average of three Filipino workers died in the Middle East every day—approximately 1,100 per year. While many deaths result from natural causes or accidents, an alarming number are recorded as suicides or remain unexplained.
Data from the Philippine Statistics Authority shows that OFWs in the Middle East have a suicide rate significantly higher than the general Filipino population. For domestic workers specifically, the combination of isolation, abuse, debt pressure, and hopelessness creates conditions where suicide becomes tragically common.
Equally concerning are deaths classified as cardiac arrest in young, healthy workers or deaths by “falling” in circumstances that raise questions. Human rights organizations have documented cases where workers alleged to have fallen from buildings were known to have been experiencing severe abuse. Investigations are rarely conducted.
Trafficking Designations
The U.S. State Department’s Trafficking in Persons Report has repeatedly highlighted the kafala system as enabling forced labor. Several Gulf states have been placed on watch lists due to inadequate efforts to protect domestic workers.
Within these designations, Filipino domestic workers appear consistently as a population of concern. The combination of recruitment debt, contract substitution, document confiscation, and restricted movement meets international definitions of forced labor indicators—even when no physical chains are involved.
The Scale of Complaints
The Department of Migrant Workers processed over 8,000 distressed worker cases from the Middle East in 2023 alone—an undercount given that many workers never report their situations. Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, and the UAE account for the majority of cases, with common complaints including contract violations, unpaid wages, physical abuse, and illegal termination.
These numbers represent individuals: mothers who left children behind seeking better futures, daughters supporting aging parents, women who trusted a system that failed them.
Part 6: Reforms, Reality, and What Actually Helps
What the Philippine Government Has Done
The Philippines has implemented multiple protective measures for domestic workers:
Minimum age requirements prohibit deployment of domestic workers under 23 years old to certain countries, based on evidence that younger workers face higher risks of abuse.
Minimum wage requirements mandate that Filipino domestic workers receive at least $400 monthly regardless of destination country—though enforcement in the Gulf remains inconsistent.
Mandatory insurance provides coverage for death, disability, and repatriation costs.
Pre-departure orientation seminars attempt to educate workers about their rights, warning signs of trafficking, and how to access help abroad.
Bilateral labor agreements with Gulf states establish complaint mechanisms and joint committees to address worker welfare.
Yet these measures address symptoms rather than causes. As long as domestic workers remain excluded from labor laws in destination countries, as long as kafala-style sponsorship ties workers to individual employers, and as long as recruitment economics create incentive for exploitation, protective measures will struggle to achieve systemic change.
What Actually Protects Workers
Research and worker testimony suggest several factors that most effectively prevent abuse:
Direct hiring through government-to-government programs, which eliminates the exploitative recruitment pipeline. The Philippines has piloted such programs with mixed results but promising indicators.
Employer vetting by both Philippine and destination country authorities, including home visits, financial checks, and reference verification. Implemented inconsistently but effective where enforced.
Standardized contracts in languages workers understand, with clear specification of duties, hours, and compensation. Workers who fully understand their contracts report better outcomes.
Regular communication access including guaranteed possession of personal phones with data access. Workers who can communicate with family and access information report higher wellbeing and are better able to seek help when needed.
Genuine days off allowing workers to leave the employer’s home, meet other workers, and access services. The single day off required by most Gulf states, when actually granted, provides critical relief and connection.
Embassy accessibility through outreach programs, hotlines, and information campaigns ensuring workers know help exists and how to access it.
Part 7: A Framework for Prospective Domestic Workers
Before You Decide
Understand that domestic work abroad involves unique risks. Unlike other OFW categories, you will live inside your employer’s home, work in a space where labor inspections do not reach, and depend on one individual or family for nearly every aspect of your daily life. This is not to discourage you—many workers have positive experiences—but you must enter with clear eyes.
Calculate the true cost of deployment. If an agency is charging fees beyond what regulations allow, walk away. If you must borrow money at high interest rates to deploy, the math may not work in your favor. Legitimate agencies with good track records exist; find them.
Research your destination country’s current laws. Understand what protections technically exist and what limitations they have. Know the minimum wage, day off requirements, and what kafala reforms have actually been implemented.
Memorize your embassy’s contact information. Know the address. Know the hotline number. Store this information in a way that cannot be confiscated.
During the Recruitment Process
Use only POEA-licensed agencies. Verify the license independently through the DMW website—do not trust agency claims. Report any agency charging prohibited fees.
Get everything in writing. Your contract should specify salary (at least $400 monthly for Gulf countries), working hours, duties, days off, accommodation arrangements, and provisions for communication with family. Do not accept vague promises.
Understand what your contract says before signing. If presented with a contract in a language you cannot read, demand translation. Never sign documents you do not understand.
Prepare for the possibility of problems. Bring copies of important documents. Memorize key phone numbers. Tell family members exactly where you are going and establish regular check-in schedules.
Upon Arrival
If asked to sign a new contract with different terms, you have the right to refuse. This is contract substitution and it is illegal. Contact the Philippine embassy immediately.
If your passport is taken “for safekeeping,” request it back. Passport confiscation is illegal in all Gulf states. While practical realities may make immediate retrieval difficult, knowing this is illegal gives you leverage and documentation for later complaints.
Document everything from day one. Keep notes of your working hours, tasks, treatment, and any pay received. Store documentation in multiple ways if possible—physical notes, phone records, messages to family.
Establish communication routines with family. If communication is restricted, this itself is a warning sign. Regular check-ins help both your mental health and your safety.
If Things Go Wrong
Contact the Philippine embassy immediately if you experience abuse, contract violations, or feel unsafe. Do not wait hoping things will improve.
If you cannot access a phone, look for any opportunity to reach the outside world. Other domestic workers in the building, delivery personnel, anyone who might help you make contact.
Know that leaving an abusive employer is not your fault, even if you face “absconding” charges. The embassy can help navigate these situations. Your safety matters more than completing a contract.
If you make it to the embassy shelter, be patient but persistent. Document everything that happened to you. Your testimony may help future workers.
Emergency Contacts and Resources
Department of Migrant Workers Hotline: 1348 (Philippines) | +63 2 8722 1144 (International)
Philippine Embassy Kuwait: +965 2253 4112 / +965 2253 4113
Philippine Embassy Saudi Arabia (Riyadh): +966 11 482 9947
Philippine Embassy UAE (Abu Dhabi): +971 2 447 2100
Philippine Consulate Dubai: +971 4 329 9100
Philippine Embassy Qatar: +974 4483 5252
Kanlungan Centre Foundation: kfrancisco@kfrancisco.org (Legal assistance for OFWs)
OWWA: 1348 | owwa.gov.ph
Inter-Agency Council Against Trafficking: 1343
Blas F. Ople Policy Center: +63 2 8551 6641 (Anti-trafficking assistance)
Final Thoughts: The Value of a Life
In the global economy, domestic work is simultaneously essential and invisible. Families across the Gulf depend on Filipino workers to care for their children, maintain their homes, and enable their careers. This labor has economic value—measurable in the billions of dollars these workers remit home, in the professional productivity they enable abroad.
But the women who perform this labor are not commodities. They are mothers who wake before dawn missing their own children. They are daughters supporting parents who sacrificed to educate them. They are human beings whose lives cannot be reduced to economic inputs and outputs.
The kafala system, even in its reformed versions, treats workers as something less than fully human—as dependents rather than free individuals, as problems to be managed rather than people to be protected. Until domestic workers are covered by the same labor laws as other workers, until they can freely change employers and leave countries, until they work in conditions subject to inspection and accountability, the exploitation will continue.
For prospective domestic workers reading this: you deserve dignity. You deserve fair wages for honest work. You deserve safety, rest, communication with your family, and respect. These are not luxuries to be negotiated—they are basic human rights that no contract can sign away.
Some employers will honor your humanity. Some will not. The system as designed offers insufficient protection against those who will not.
Go abroad if you choose to go, but go with full knowledge of what you may face. Prepare as thoroughly as you can. Know your rights and know how to fight for them. Document everything. Stay connected. And remember always that no job is worth your life, your health, or your dignity.
The Gulf needs your labor. But you do not owe the Gulf your soul.
