Like many others, Bernard chose to overstay his visa rather than return home empty-handed. Desperate to fund his daughter’s education, he now survives on sporadic construction jobs. But life as an undocumented migrant has forced him into hiding—avoiding social events, whispering to conceal his accent, and constantly checking his mask to hide his identity.
Taiwan’s broker system, introduced in the early 1990s to regulate labor migration, has instead tightened control over nearly every aspect of a worker’s life—housing, meals, health care, and employment terms. Migrants often pay monthly service fees, fees for job changes, insurance, and even documentation processing. Many report being subject to age restrictions and wage deductions without recourse.
This oppressive environment has caused many workers to flee their jobs, sacrificing legal status and social protections for a shot at freedom and better pay. Without brokers taking a cut, some migrants find higher earnings—but at the cost of losing access to health insurance and any legal protections.
The largest group of undocumented migrants are Vietnamese, followed by Indonesians and Filipinos. Advocates for migrant rights point to the unchecked power brokers wield, coupled with lax government oversight and indifferent employers, as the root causes of the mass exodus.
Taiwanese authorities acknowledge the issue but have responded by tightening penalties, raising fines for overstaying visas. Critics argue this only worsens the situation, as it discourages undocumented workers from turning themselves in or seeking help.
Some sectors, like fisheries and domestic caregiving, remain excluded from Taiwan’s minimum wage laws. Migrants in these industries often earn far less than their industrial counterparts and are especially vulnerable to abuse. Despite contributing significantly to Taiwan’s economy, they are regularly underpaid, overworked, and ignored when they voice complaints.
In rural Lishan, undocumented migrants have carved out a fragile refuge. There, hundreds work on farms harvesting fruit and vegetables, their presence quietly tolerated by local landowners. These arrangements often rely on informal deals with authorities, allowing migrants to work so long as they remain discreet. However, the absence of legal protections means they’re still vulnerable—some report being denied pay and silenced by threats of deportation.
While many simply want a fair wage and humane treatment, Taiwan’s system forces them into the shadows. The solution, advocates argue, lies not in harsher punishments but in reform—greater transparency, oversight, and genuine protections for those who form the backbone of the island’s essential industries.
