By Kesshamminne Krimzei Carreon
In order to survive the pandemic, some have been forced to bend the law a little and dip into some questionable methods to gain income. Has it been worth it?
Auntie Epay*, a jueteng collector from Tumauini, Isabela, says yes.
Despite the final notice released by the Philippine Charity Sweepstakes Office (PCSO) to terminate all the Small Town Lottery (STL) operations in the province of Isabela, there are still jueteng kubradors and kabos in the municipality of Tumauini who continue to collect bets illegally, putting their own life and freedom at stake.
On March 23, the agency agreement of Sahara Games and Amusement Philippines Corporation with PCSO was terminated. This meant these corporations cound no longer manage STL operations in almost 30 municipalities in the province of Isabela.
A memorandum released by the Office of the Sangguniang Panlalawigan of the Province of Isabela regarding Ordinance No. 2021-04-01 states that any person in the Province of Isabela found to be placing, accepting, or collecting lottery bets outside Official Betting Stations shall be penalized. For the first offense, there was a fine of P5,000. For the second offense, a 30-day imprisonment.
This ordinance sounds sensible enough, but the shutdown of STL operations is a nightmare for full-time jueteng kabos and kubradors such as Manang Epay. Most of them rely on it as the only way to earn money and survive the pandemic.
Luck in Jueteng
Jueteng is considered to be an illegal form of gambling in the Philippines, but for Auntie Epay and other thousands of Filipinos, especially those who are indigent, jueteng is a source of income and a ticket to escape poverty due to the lucrative payouts it offers.
Based on a report released by the Department of Interior and Local Government (DILG) and the Philippine National Police (PNP) in 2010, over PHP38 billion has been wagered on illegal Jueteng games. For Auntie Epay, this game, illegal as it is, is not as bad as it sounds because it has given her a means of income, despite her being illiterate. She has used to sustain her family’s needs for more than three decades.
“Simula 1990 pa, mappapataya na ako ng jueteng. Tuloy-tuloy yari adde na nakapagtapos sila Joan (her youngest child) ng pag-aaral. Malaki ang naitutulong talaga lalo na kapag may napapatama ka. Sa 10 pesos, mahigit 4,000 yung makukuha doon ng nanalo, tapos y mala ku tari eh 1,000 gapa. Egga pa share na kabo, 250 pesos kunnari, pero mas dakal lapa y mala ku. Yari pa i gamitammi para makagatang tu ulam anna bagga ta balay.”
(Since 1990, I have already started collecting jueteng bets. That continued until Joan and my other children finished studying. It is a big help especially when a bettor won. A 10 peso can be converted into 4,000 pesos, and my share will be 1,000 pesos. I will share 250 pesos to my kabo, still, I have a larger share, which will be used to buy food and rice in our house.)
Auntie Epay shared that the STL shutdown in Isabela devastated her because it put her and other jueteng kubradors and kabos at risk of unemployment.
“Sabi naman nila, kapag nag-stop daw bibigyan daw ng ayuda ng gobyerno, yung bigas at cash, kaso yung iba kasi yun laman y pagkakitaan da, kumbaga yari y easy-money. Kaya may kilala ako, tulad ni Adring, na tuloy-tuloy pa rin sa pagkolekta ng taya kasi yari la mabba y ammu da nga paraan ta penu makabigay ta pamilya da ngay.”
(According to others, if you stop collecting bets, the government will give you incentives, such as rice and cash assistance, however, most of these people only know that job (jueteng) as a source of income, it’s an easy money for them. That’s why I know some people, such as Adring, who still continue to collect bets because that’s the only job he knows that can help him provide for his family.)
Why the shutdown?
Isabela 6th District Rep. Faustino Dy shared in a privilege speech that STL operations in some parts of the province including Cauayan City and Tumauini failed to secure business permits and even violated COVID-19 protocols. This is one of the reasons why the Isabela congressional representatives called for a House probe into small-town lottery operations, eventually ending in the termination of the agreement with Sahara Games and Amusement Philippines Corporation.
Dy also emphasized that getting business permits are basic requirements for all who want to conduct business within a particular area. He explained that aside from the absence of required permits, government officials also discovered that Sahara Games’ personnel who come from other areas outside Isabela did not respect and comply with COVID-19 protocols.
“STL operations constitute a public health threat, and the numbers illustrate this point; of the 601 individuals in Cauayan that have contracted COVID-19, 188 or 31% are employed by STL ops,” said Dy.
These high-ranked STL operators had one job: to comply with the needed paperwork to sustain the operations. Failing to accomplish this proved to be disastrous not just for the corporation, but also for the livelihood of jueteng kabos and kubradors -- those who have to do the dirty work and tolerate the scorching sun as they comb an entire puroks, all to gather wagers they would not even have the right to bet on.
Jueteng Resurgence
Mayor Arnold Bautista and the Philippine National Police (PNP) are closely monitoring the resurgence of jueteng in the municipality.
“To all barangay captains, inform all kabos and kubradors in your respective barangays that collection of jueteng bets must be stopped effective tomorrow, pag matigas pa din ulo nila. Wala tayong magagawa, mapipilitan na magsampa ng kaso.” said Bautista in his speech.
(..if they will not comply. I have no choice but to file a case against them.)
On the other hand, Rolando L. Gatan, chief of police in Tumauini, shared a caution to all kabos and kubradors, “I am warning all the jueteng kabos and kubradors to not to return to their old job as they would be dealt with the law accordingly.”
But these warnings from the mayor and the chief would not cause the poor and the hungry to flinch. Another jueteng kubrador, Mang Adring, is a testament to this. He still continues to collect bets underground, for this is the only way he knows how he and his family can remain alive under the current health crisis.
To jueteng collectors like Mang Adring and Aunti Epay, life itself is a betting game. They bet their lives and freedom against the law, not because they want to be rich, but because their day-to-day survival during the pandemic is the real jackpot.
Comments