MISSING people in numbers greater than you can count on your toes and fingers is a rare occurrence in Philippine history, except for those caused by natural phenomenons. The last time more than a handful of individuals went missing was due to a natural calamity, such as a typhoon. Another notable case of disappearances could be attributed to a political calamity, the desparacidos from Marcos Sr.’s regime. Over the past four years, another case has been brewing: the missing sabungeros (cockfighters).

Sabong, or cockfighting, has been deeply rooted in our culture originating from the Spanish colonial era. What started off as a pastime for some, has evolved into a livelihood for many. Much like all other industries, cockpits and arenas had to shut down due to the pandemic, which gave birth to cockfighting anew: E-sabong. Organizers shifted to virtual operations, conducting real-time cock fights, with real-time stakes. Little to the knowledge of the players, they were slowly starting to bet with not just money, but their lives. 

For the families left behind, the wait has been long and agonizing. Birthdays have passed without fathers, brothers, and sons. Kitchen tables sit with empty chairs, and questions remain unanswered. Posters with fading photos still cling to barangay walls, each one bearing a name and a hope that has grown heavier with the passage of time.

Missing cases

In mid-2021, individuals involved in cockfighting, more specifically e-sabongstarted disappearing. A total of 34 sabungeros have been confirmed to be missing. The Criminal Investigation and Detection Group formed the Special Investigation Task Group Sabungero to investigate the case, leading to the discovery of clues regarding the individuals’ whereabouts. In January 2022,  records from Manila showed that another group of sabungeros were forced to board a van, never to be seen again. In the same year, police authorities were named as suspects in the disappearances. This led to a call from the senate to suspend all e-sabong operations in the Philippines which was then supported by then president Rodrigo Duterte. 

The case again rekindled in early June 2025 when Julie “Totoy” Patidongan came forward with a testimony regarding the case. On July 15, a press conference was held with Totoy and the families of the victims. According to Totoy, the number of victims is far greater than what has been officially reported. While authorities recognize 34 individuals as missing, he alleges the real figure could be closer to 100. He draws connections not only to e-sabong but also to the long-standing history of illegal gambling in the country, including  jueteng, suggesting that disappearances and killings have become a systemic response to cheating within these underground networks.

Tossed in the water

Totoy claims that most of the missing are no longer alive, and that their bodies were dumped in Taal Lake, as of current findings, three sacks of alleged remains of the sabungeros have been recovered from the lake. He details a method of killing he refers to as “killed softly”—by strangulation using tie wire—and says the victims were weighed down with sandbags. In some instances, he alleges that the bodies were dismembered before disposal. To be “killed softly’ is a cold irony, to be imposed debt is far from being imposed death. The methodical process obscures reason from the situation, for they aren’t born of rage, but of cold calculation.

At the core of these claims is a familiar motive: cheating. According to Totoy, those behind the e-sabong operations had no tolerance for any form of rigging or manipulation. Those caught or even suspected of cheating were allegedly silenced permanently.

Pointing directions

Totoy points to a syndicate as the orchestrator of the killings. At its helm, he claims, is businessman and gaming figure Charlie “Atong” Ang, whom he names as the mastermind. Police officers, he says, served as the muscle behind the operations, some allegedly receiving up to ₱2 million a month. He notes that one officer supposedly owns a fishpond by the lake, implying it could have served as a disposal site.

He doesn’t stop there. An ex-vice mayor, a former judge, and even actress Gretchen Barretto are pulled into the narrative. The judge, Totoy alleges, was instrumental in “fixing” cases, while Barretto is said to have been an “alpha member” of the so-called Pitmasters Group. Barretto’s lawyer has denied any connection to the crimes or operations.

Online, the public is torn between disbelief and grim acceptance. After all, the lines between legality and illegality in the world of gambling have always been blurred—what shocks now is how visible the cracks have become.

Totoy’s involvement, as he tells it, was limited to that of a farm manager and head of security for Ang’s cockfighting operations. He insists he had no role in the killings, calling himself “just a servant.” However, he admits to having seen videos of victims being strangled, which he claims were later erased when his phone was confiscated and burned. 

What comes after

He is now under the protective custody of the Philippine National Police and is seeking entry into the Witness Protection Program. In the coming weeks, Totoy plans to submit an affidavit to the National Police Commission (NAPOLCOM), where he is expected to name the police officers allegedly involved. His statements could potentially lead to administrative and criminal charges.

Ang, for his part, has denied the allegations and filed extortion charges against Totoy, claiming the latter attempted to extort ₱300 million.

The Department of Justice has since opened an investigation. In a recent development, bones recovered from Taal Lake seem to support parts of Totoy’s testimony. For now, the DOJ maintains that the probe is not centered on personalities, but rather will follow the evidence wherever it leads.

With each new testimony and each recovered bone, the picture grows more complex. This is no longer just about e-sabong, nor just about 34 missing men. It is about power, silence, and how easily justice can disappear in the shadows. What began as a string of isolated disappearances now appears to be part of a far more coordinated and calculated operation. Once thought to involve only a handful of bad actors, the case has unraveled to reveal a potential web of complicity spanning businessmen, law enforcers, and public figures. 

If a syndicate truly lies at the heart of these killings, then the question must be asked: how deep does this go, and what does it mean for the case, the victims, and the families still waiting for answers?