FROM BEEPERS TO BYTES
When someone on Facebook Messenger informed Andrew (not his real name) that he was eligible for a ₱100,000 loan from a government organization, he was excited. The interest seemed reasonable — ₱10,000 payable over 10 months.
However, the loan agent explained that Andrew needed to show his willingness to repay the loan. The catch was that he had to deposit the ₱10,000 interest upfront within two hours. Andrew didn't have the money, but the thought of having the ₱100,000 was too tempting. The agent suggested that he borrow the money from friends or family.
Driven by the desire to get the ₱100,000, Andrew borrowed the ₱10,000 from a friend, promising to repay it with an additional 5,000 pesos in interest that same day. After sending the money to the agent via an e-wallet app, Andrew eagerly awaited the loan amount. But it never came. Instead, the agent blocked him.
Andrew quickly realized that the offer had been a scam. He felt a pang of guilt, knowing that his gullibility had also put his friend in a difficult financial situation.
Andrew felt sick with worry. His friend demanded the ₱10,000 back, and he had nothing to show for it except the sinking feeling of being scammed. In a desperate attempt, he joined several anti-scam Facebook groups, hoping for some miracle. He shared his story and pleaded for help.
Then, a glimmer of hope. A private message popped up on his screen. Someone claimed he could help Andrew recover his money. This person introduced himself as a hacker, assuring Andrew of his expertise in getting back at the scammers.
Driven by desperation and a dwindling sense of logic, Andrew recounted his experience in detail. The “hacker” expressed sympathy and then outlined his plan. To track down the scammer and retrieve the funds, he needed an upfront payment – just a quarter of the lost amount. ₱2,500 seemed like a small price if it meant getting his money back.
Blinded by hope, Andrew scraped the last of his money and sent it over. He eagerly awaited news, a sign that the “hacker” was making progress. Instead, he heard the same chilling silence. The realization hit Andrew like a punch to the gut. He had been scammed yet again. The “hacker” had vanished, just like the loan agent before him. Andrew was left feeling more foolish and desperate than ever.
In his desperate search for a solution, Andrew stumbled upon what appeared to be hope amid his turmoil. It was an anti-scam group, distinctly different from the others he had joined. This group didn’t just offer advice on avoiding scams, but it also promised a community where members could help each other overcome the depression and anxiety that often followed being scammed.
Eager to join this community, Andrew reached out, expressing his situation and need for support. The response he received was quick and seemingly compassionate, outlining the numerous benefits of membership. They offered personal counseling sessions, exclusive resources on mental health recovery post-scam, and assistance in filing complaints to law enforcement agencies. But there was a catch, Andrew needed to pay for the membership to gain full access to these benefits. The fee was ₱5,000, a substantial amount considering his financial state, but the promise of emotional relief and support made it seem worth the cost.
Andrew, his judgment clouded by the promise of recovery and support, managed to gather the amount. He saw it as an investment in his mental health, a necessary step to overcome his mistakes. However, after making the payment, the warm communication he had initially experienced began to wane. Responses to his messages became sporadic and vague. The promised one-on-one counseling sessions were constantly rescheduled or canceled, and the help to file a complaint never happened.
It wasn’t long before Andrew noticed inconsistencies in the group’s information and testimonials. A deeper investigation revealed the heartbreaking truth, this support group was another layer of exploitation, preying on scam victims’ vulnerability. They offered hope but delivered nothing, targeting those at their lowest to extract more money. Andrew had fallen into yet another trap, this time masquerading as a lifeline for those already drowning in despair.
This realization plunged Andrew deeper into hopelessness. He had sought comfort and a way to rebuild himself but found only further deception. Andrew’s experience shows the cruel reality that scammers often exploit their victims' financial desperation and emotional vulnerabilities. Let Andrew’s story be a cautionary tale about the importance of seeking help from legitimate, verified support services and the dangerous allure of seemingly quick solutions in times of distress.
(To report scams and other cybercrimes, go to www.scamwatchpilipinas.com or call the government's anti-scam hotline, 1326.)