In Taiwan, Migrants Flee Oppressive Workplaces for Life on the Periphery

The number of undocumented migrant workers in Taiwan has doubled in just four years, reaching 90,000 by January 2025.

Life in Hiding

Bernard, a 45-year-old Filipino worker in Taichung City, lives cautiously. On his way to construction jobs, he avoids eye contact, checks his mask often, and speaks softly to hide his accent. He rarely attends social gatherings, fearing someone might report him.

Bernard came to Taiwan legally in 2016 to work in electronics. But since June 2024, he has been undocumented. He says his broker tried to take his passport and convinced him to quit without severance. After refusing, he was blacklisted from getting new jobs. Now, to support his daughter in the Philippines, Bernard works illegally on construction sites. “I feel like a bird in a cage,” he says.

The Rise of Undocumented Workers

Official data shows that Taiwan’s undocumented migrant population has surged. While the country is known for its democracy, many Southeast Asian workers now live in fear of deportation and lack access to services.

Taiwan started using brokers in 1992 to manage labor recruitment. These brokers control most parts of a migrant’s life—from housing and food to work contracts and documents. Advocates say this intense control is driving many to flee.

Over one-third of complaints to the Ministry of Labor are about brokers. As of January 2025, Vietnamese make up the largest undocumented group (57,611), followed by Indonesians (28,363) and Filipinos (2,750).

Brokers and Abuse

Catholic priest Joy Tajonera, who runs the Ugnayan Center shelter, says the system benefits brokers while employers act unaware. Brokers charge $50–$60 per month and extra for paperwork, job transfers, insurance, and even leave. Some also limit job access by age.

Tajonera explains that while undocumented migrants can earn more without brokers, they lose protections like healthcare. “They don’t want to run away,” he says. “They just can’t take it anymore.”

Government Efforts and Criticism

The Ministry of Labor blames the rise in undocumented workers on pandemic disruptions to deportations. It claims to have made reforms, including wage increases, agency inspections, and orientation programs to inform migrants of legal rules and risks. It also introduced penalties for agencies with high rates of missing workers.

Yet in 2024, fines for overstaying rose from $330 to $1,657. Lennon Ying-Da Wang, who runs the Serve the People Association shelter, called the move “shameless and stupid.” He says higher fines discourage migrants from surrendering and don’t address root problems. Many abscond due to poor pay and lack of protection, especially in childcare and fisheries.

Harsh Conditions, Few Choices

Childcare and fisheries are not covered under Taiwan’s minimum wage laws. Brokers often deduct fees, leaving migrants with far less than $944 per month. Some brokers even avoid hiring anyone who’s sought help from shelters.

Wang says, “Migrants just want a decent salary.” But he can’t house runaways, as they are considered deportable by law—even if he supports their cause.

Harmony Home and Young Mothers

In Taipei, Harmony Home helps undocumented women and children. Though not deported for humanitarian reasons, the state doesn’t fund their care. Founder Nicole Yang says they’ve seen a spike in children arriving—140 by April this year, up from 110 in all of last year.

Harmony Home also helps 300 children whose mothers work elsewhere. Nicole says the need is growing fast, but help is limited.

Calls for Transparency and Reform

Labor expert Li-Chuan Liuhuang says Taiwan should improve recruitment transparency. Though the broker system can’t be removed quickly, more oversight could help. She also hopes for public dialogue around allowing undocumented migrants to work on farms legally.

In mountain areas like Lishan, hundreds of undocumented Southeast Asians harvest fruit and vegetables. Many escaped abusive fishing jobs. Local landowners rely on them and even seem to coordinate with police to avoid crackdowns.

Life in the Fields

Mary, a 46-year-old migrant, once worked in childcare. After being underpaid and ignored, she left and now works on farms. She says she’s always nervous in the city but feels safer in the mountains. “The boss always knows when the police are coming,” she says.

Still, safety isn’t guaranteed. Mary says some employers withhold wages and threaten deportation if anyone complains. “If I report them, I get reported too,” she adds. “Who will help me?”