2011-03-03 11:01:01
By Kate McGeown BBC News, Olongapo City, the Philippines
Maricel is a shy, attractive girl, who looks younger than her 15 years. But in
her short life, she has already had to deal with experiences that would badly
scar many adults.
Two years ago her aunt told her about a job in the city of Olongapo, several
hours away from her home.
"She told me I would be working as a domestic helper and a babysitter," said
Maricel. "But when I got there, she told me to dress up and go in front of the
computer.
"She even showed me how to do it - so I had no choice but to follow her
instructions."
Maricel had become what is known here as a "cybersex chat girl".
Her friend Kim was soon lured into the same trap, and worked alongside her.
"We did a show in front of the camera, using a webcam and a phone," said Kim.
"When the customers requested us to show our bodies, we removed our clothes If
they were satisfied with our show, they requested us for another show."
Cybersex den raid
Cybersex, or sexually explicit chat over the internet, is a growing industry in
many parts of the world - and one of the countries where business is booming is
the Philippines.
An already established sex trade, high levels of poverty and a population that
speaks at least basic English means there is a ready supply of girls.
Neither the police nor the National Bureau of Investigation (NBI) have accurate
statistics, but they estimate that thousands could be working in the back rooms
and small apartments that are the usual locations of these so-called cybersex
dens.
Lesley Ermata outside the cybersex den she raided Lesley Ermata found six girls
in various states of undress when she raided this cybersex den
All internet sex is classed as pornography and therefore illegal in the
Philippines, but what most concerns the authorities is the number of girls who
are trafficked into these dens - many of whom, like Maricel and Kim, are well
under 18, the legal age of consent.
The plight of these girls is a major concern for Lesley Ermata, a police
officer specialising in women's issues. She is based in Angeles City which,
like Olongapo, has a thriving sex tourism industry.
"It's one of the main problems we face here," she told me, as we got into the
car on the way to a small one-storey house about 10 minutes from the police
station.
Last year, she raided this building with a group of colleagues, and found six
girls in various states of undress. The youngest was just 13.
From the outside, there is nothing to suggest this house is any different from
all the others around it. It is on a busy suburban street, with a shop on the
corner - many people pass by every day.
The landlady of the building, who also lives next door, denied she had any idea
that it was being used as a cybersex den. In fact she said she had never even
met any of the six girls who were working there.
Whether neighbours genuinely do not know what is going on, or whether they
choose to remain silent, is a matter of debate. But either way, the fact that
these cybersex dens are so hidden away makes it very difficult for the police
to find them.
Ms Ermata says her team is almost entirely reliant on informants - the rare
girls who have escaped and are brave enough to speak out, and also have enough
evidence for the police to obtain a search warrant.
"We were able to raid this house because we had an informant who'd just
escaped. She had a cellphone - she had videoed the other chat girls when they
were online so she had evidence."
'Go to hell'
But even when the police are able to raid a cybersex den, there is no guarantee
they will be able to find the owners.
"As of now, we don't have the capability to trace where the operations are
being conducted," said Migdonio Congzon, the head of the computer crimes unit
at the NBI.
Migdonio Congzon, the head of the computer crimes unit at the NBI Migdonio
Congzon says it is difficult to trace where the operations are being conducted
from
"They already use proxy servers; their websites are [often] hosted by a system
outside the Philippines."
And he added that even if he did manage to track down the cybersex bosses, he
faced another uphill battle in trying to convict them.
"The laws are really behind. There have been cases filed before the
prosecutors' office, but the case goes to the prosecutors before it goes to
court and as far as I know all those cases are still with the prosecutors'
office."
In other words, he is yet to hear of a single conviction.
Perhaps the biggest problem Mr Congzon faces is that many members of public
simply do not realise this is a serious issue - often involving under-age,
trafficked girls.
Cybersex operations here have even likened themselves to call centres, saying
they are part of the outsourcing industry - a sector which is booming in the
Philippines.
The call centre industry is distancing itself as far as possible from these
claims.
For Kim and Maricel, working in this industry was an experience from which they
will need time and space to recover.
They have now left the cybersex business. Their den was raided late last year,
and they are in the care of a charity in Olongapo called Preda, which is run by
an Irish priest.
But the memories of the men who paid them to perform in front of a camera are
still fresh in their minds.
"I felt embarrassed every time I saw them in front of a computer - I hated them
because I felt that I was a child, so why were they doing this to me," said
Maricel.
Kim was more concise. "I hate them - I want them to die and go to hell".
The names of the girls have been changed for their own protection