Across Southeast Asia, a shadowy industry is thriving despite repeated government crackdowns: sprawling scam centers, notorious for trapping workers in forced labor and fleecing unsuspecting victims around the globe. Recent events along the Thai-Myanmar border have thrown a harsh spotlight on the scale and complexity of these illicit operations, revealing a crisis that’s both deeply local and unmistakably global.
It often begins innocently enough—a text message asking if you’re available for a part-time job on weekends, or a simple “hello” from an unknown number. But behind these messages lies a vast network of laborers, many of whom endure grueling 12- to 16-hour shifts, sending out endless pitches in the hope that someone will bite. According to the Associated Press, the ultimate goal is always the same: to trick victims into handing over their money, often through elaborate investment scams or emotionally manipulative schemes.
The human cost is staggering. Tens of billions of dollars have been lost to these scams, and hundreds of thousands of people—drawn from more than 50 countries—are believed to be working, often against their will, in these compounds. The United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime estimated in 2023 that at least 120,000 people in Myanmar and another 100,000 in Cambodia may be trapped in such forced labor, their passports confiscated and their freedom tightly controlled. Workers who don’t meet performance targets can face beatings or other physical punishments, as reported by the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights.
The recent crackdown in Myanmar’s KK Park, one of the region’s most infamous scam compounds, made headlines in October 2025. The Myanmar military announced it had raided the massive facility, which straddles the border with Thailand, setting off explosions and demolishing parts of the complex. Thai military officials confirmed that several structures were destroyed, and about 1,500 workers—hundreds from India, as well as others from China, the Philippines, Vietnam, Ethiopia, and Kenya—fled across the border into Thailand.
According to ABC and AP reports, Thailand quickly began coordinating with India and other governments to repatriate the rescued workers. On November 6, a large group of Indians was flown home aboard Indian Air Force transport planes, with more repatriations expected in the following week. The operation was hailed as a success by regional authorities, but civil society groups pointed out that parts of KK Park may still be operating, and the broader problem is far from solved.
“If we only rescue the victims, and don’t arrest anybody, especially the Chinese mafia and those transnational syndicates, then there will be no point,” said Jay Kritiya, coordinator of the Civil Society Network for Victim Assistance in Human Trafficking, as quoted by the Associated Press. “They can get more victims ... they can scam anytime.”
KK Park is just one of dozens of such centers along the Thai-Myanmar border, and hundreds more are scattered across Southeast Asia. Many are sprawling rural complexes complete with dormitories, shops, and entertainment venues for staff. Developers often construct the properties and lease out space to various companies, operating under the protection of local elites. Smaller operations can be found in urban office buildings or even rented houses, making them difficult to track and shut down.
The roots of this criminal industry lie in Southeast Asia’s casino boom. In 2021, the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime counted more than 340 licensed and unlicensed casinos in the region. These establishments—especially those catering to high-rollers from China, where gambling is outlawed—became fertile ground for criminal groups. When the COVID-19 pandemic hit and travel restrictions cut off their customer base, many casino operators pivoted to online fraud, using their infrastructure and networks to launch digital scamming operations.
Recruitment for these scam centers is often based on deception. Workers are lured with promises of high salaries and easy office jobs, only to find their passports confiscated and their movements restricted. While some laborers initially come willingly, many are trafficked or coerced, and only senior managers or trusted lieutenants enjoy any real freedom. The Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights has noted that the workforce now draws from 56 countries, ranging from Indonesia to Liberia, reflecting the truly global reach of these schemes.
The scams themselves are as varied as their victims. Some target investors with promises of quick riches in cryptocurrency or crude oil futures, building a sense of urgency to pressure victims into sending money. Others use false romantic ploys or gambling schemes, exploiting emotional vulnerabilities. In March 2024, Philippine authorities raided a complex where workers, following detailed scripts, posed as high-ranking employees at China National Petroleum Corporation to defraud Chinese nationals, as reported by AP. Last month, about 50 South Koreans were repatriated from Cambodia after being arrested for working in scam organizations.
The United States has not been spared. In 2024 alone, Americans lost at least $10 billion to scams based in Southeast Asia, according to the U.S. Treasury Department. U.S. prosecutors recently indicted Chen Zhi, a Chinese-Cambodian businessman, for running a criminal network that allegedly scammed 250 Americans out of millions—one victim reportedly lost $400,000 in cryptocurrency.
Technology has only made matters worse. Scammers now use artificial intelligence-powered translation tools to target victims worldwide, breaking down language barriers and expanding their reach. A recent United Nations report highlighted that these criminal networks are no longer confined to Southeast Asia; similar scam centers have been reported as far afield as Africa and Latin America.
Despite repeated crackdowns and high-profile raids, the illegal industry continues to adapt and grow. Activists and civil society groups warn that as long as the masterminds behind these operations remain at large, new scam centers will continue to emerge, and more victims—both workers and those targeted by scams—will suffer. The cycle of exploitation, they argue, can only be broken by dismantling the criminal syndicates at the heart of the industry, not just by rescuing those trapped in their grip.
The fight against Southeast Asia’s scam centers is a complex and evolving battle, one that demands international cooperation, robust law enforcement, and persistent advocacy. For now, the scars left behind by these operations—on both the workers forced to perpetuate them and the millions defrauded worldwide—remain a stark reminder of how far there is still to go.
