Wazzup Pilipinas!?
It was supposed to be just another rainy day in flood-prone Malabon. But for the family of 20-year-old Dion Angelo “Gelo” dela Rosa, July 22 would mark the beginning of a chain of events that would rob them of their son, their hope, and their dreams — all because of a coin toss.
Not a high-stakes poker game in a glittering casino. Not the billion-peso operations of online gambling.
Just kara y krus — a street game played with loose change.
The Son Who Never Came Home
Gelo was a third-year college student, the eldest of six siblings, and the family’s best hope for a better life. He was close to finishing his degree in Human Resources, already imagining a future where he could pull his family out of poverty. But when his father failed to come home that stormy night, duty — not destiny — took over.
His mother, Jennylyn, blind in one eye, needed help to search. Waist-deep floods didn’t stop them. They went from police station to police station in Malabon, Navotas, and Caloocan.
What they didn’t know was that Gelo’s father had already been arrested for illegal gambling — not jueteng, not a POGO, but kara y krus, the simplest of street bets.
Three Days of Silence
By law, when a person is arrested, their family must be informed. Gelo’s father begged the police to tell his family. They refused. For three days, the family searched in the floodwaters, unaware he was sitting in a Caloocan detention cell.
When they finally found him, bail was set at ₱30,000 — an impossible amount for a family living paycheck to paycheck.
Gelo kept visiting his father despite the floods. But on July 26, fever hit. By July 27, his three-year-old sibling found him lifeless. Cause of death: leptospirosis — a disease caught from contaminated floodwaters.
Gelo died serving his family, but he was also a casualty of something bigger — a legal system that punishes the poor for gambling, while the rich play freely in air-conditioned halls.
The Anti-Poor Face of Philippine Gambling Laws
The injustice Cardinal Pablo Virgilio “Ambo” David raised in Gelo’s case is not new. Our laws on gambling have long been tilted against the poor.
Presidential Decree No. 1602 (Ferdinand Marcos Sr., 1978) criminalizes street games like kara y krus, jueteng, and jai alai — the games of the masses.
Presidential Decree No. 1869 created PAGCOR, legalizing and regulating casinos — the playgrounds of the wealthy.
So if you gamble with a coin in an alley, you could end up behind bars. But if you place million-peso bets in a luxury casino? It’s sanctioned, taxed, and even advertised.
Supreme Court: Unequal Application of the Law
In a 2025 Supreme Court case, two men arrested for playing kara y krus were acquitted. Senior Associate Justice Marvic Leonen’s concurring opinion struck at the heart of the problem:
“The law is applied unequally. It targets the poor while shielding the rich. This unequal treatment based on social status violates the social justice clause.”
Cardinal David echoed the sentiment: it’s a moral contradiction to allow large-scale gambling while criminalizing small-time games that have existed for generations.
The POGO Hypocrisy
The double standard becomes even more glaring when you look at Philippine Offshore Gaming Operators (POGOs).
These billion-peso online gambling firms were cemented into legality through Executive Order No. 13 (Rodrigo Duterte, 2017). Despite numerous reports of crimes tied to them — kidnapping, human trafficking, money laundering — they operated openly for years.
It wasn’t until mounting scandals, including the high-profile Alice Guo and Cassie Ong saga, and public outcry led by senators Risa Hontiveros and Win Gatchalian, that POGOs were banned in 2024.
But ask yourself: How many street gamblers went to jail in those same years for a game of kara y krus?
A Life That Shouldn’t Have Been Lost
Gelo’s death is more than a personal tragedy. It is a symbol of a legal system that claims to uphold justice, yet enforces it selectively.
The law turned a blind eye to billion-peso online gambling operations but came down hard on a poor man flipping coins for a few pesos. And in the cruelest twist, it cost his son’s life.
As the rain fell in Malabon that week, so too did the mask over our gambling laws. What was revealed was not just double standards, but a hierarchy of justice — one where your freedom depends on your bank account.
Until these laws are rewritten with true social justice in mind, Gelo’s death will remain not just a loss, but an indictment.
Ross is known as the Pambansang Blogger ng Pilipinas - An Information and Communication Technology (ICT) Professional by profession and a Social Media Evangelist by heart.
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