A South African found themselves in the middle of a real con… a fraudster had won their heart over in an effort to take their money. This is the anatomy of a Swindler and a stark reminder of how quickly one can fall down the rabbit hole.
Johannesburg, South Africa (07 April 2022) – “Nothing to lose, and everything to gain”. “Take a chance; you could hit the jackpot”. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained”. This was what my colleagues bombarded me with. “Give it a try’. Until finally, I gave in and signed up. I had never married or even had a serious girlfriend. After losing both my parents as a child, I did not want to risk getting hurt again.
So, I dedicated my time and attention to my studies and then to my career. My work as a geologist took me travelling all over the world. The money was good, and I should have been happy with what I had, but suddenly I wanted more.
Cindy accepted my request to “get to know her better”, almost immediately. Her profile had caught my eye, she seemed interesting, and I thought she would be a good target to ty this. Online dating. Yes, I know; I can almost see you roll your eyes. But to me, it was a safe and easy way to break the ice and dust off, well, the dust. I was new at this game and didn’t want to mess it up.
Who is Cindy?
She was a single mom of 2 teenagers. Nasty divorce when her kids were still babies. Her ex got sucked in and then addicted to drugs. She was to tell me later that it all started on the night her first daughter was born. A “friend” had offered him Cocaine to “Celebrate”. 2 Years, and a couple of months later, just after the birth of her son, she finally gave up trying and got divorced. She raised them on her own, with no help from any family, but happily and successfully. It made her tough but also very wary of men. Like me, she was new to this dating game. After her marriage broke up, she had shut herself off, too scared to let down her guard again. But like me, she too was finally ready for something, ready to see what she could get out of this.
We soon started chatting online through a messenger app. We were not supposed to leave the dating app and were warned not to, but I trusted her, and she was starting to put her trust in me.
There was so much to learn about each other; every connection was eagerly anticipated and looked forward to. Day by day, the security barrier walls were broken down, and we grew closer and closer. We swopped photos but never had a live online chat or calls, not even voice notes. My wi-fi connection was not strong enough to handle cameras and microphones. I was busy living and working on a mine in rural Greece. My excavation work in search of precious minerals kept me busy by day, but my keyboard kept me busy by night. And that was good enough for us.
Days turned to weeks, weeks to months. We had connected; we even had our own song: “What if” by Jason De Rula. It was perfect.
Not a day went by without us connecting. We started emailing each other, long caring love letters. She told me she felt like she had met her prince charming and had never felt happier. We shared stories about her children, our losses, what we wanted for the future, and I soon began to see her permanently in mine. She started telling her friends about me and her beloved children.
Who is Aunty Jane?
My aunt Jane who had raised me after my parents’ horrific car crash, began noticing a change in me when I visited her in England on my days off. She insisted on learning all about Cindy and then, with my begrudging permission, started corresponding with her via email. I think Cindy took great comfort in hearing from her. Aunt Jane who took delight in telling her how happy she was making me. It seemed to clear any last doubts or hesitancy that Cindy may have had regarding our relationship. Yes, four months down the line, it was very safe to call this a relationship, a serious one at that.
It was time we met. I so much wanted her to become a part of my life. We talked about her and her kids moving to the USA to settle down with me once my contract with the mine was complete. It was a big step, but I could tell how excited she was getting about this possibility, a whole new life and a brand new start.
I booked a trip to Cape Town for just after Christmas to finally get to see her, to hold her and to look into her eyes as I told her how much I loved her. I booked two adjacent rooms in one of the upmarket Waterfront hotels. She laughed at my “gentlemanly act”; but I didn’t want her to feel any pressure. During our late evening chat sessions, we planned trips up Table Mountain and outings to the vineyards and beaches. We were so excited.
Why a Loan?
But then, disaster struck. Just days before I was due to fly, my mining drilling bit seized up. I was not going to finish my work. Flustered, I spoke to the mine management, asking for an extension for after my holiday. But no, they demanded that I had to deliver the quantities stipulated in my contract. To make things even worse, they said that they would not pay me anything until the work was completed. Everything was now in jeopardy. I had invested most of my savings into my equipment and, after paying for hotels and plane tickets, had no funds available.
Hating myself, I asked Aunt Jane if she could loan me some money to get the drill repaired. She had done so much for me already, but she was my only hope. But alas, she only had her small monthly pension, and it wasn’t enough. Cindy quickly picked up that something was wrong with me, that something was bothering me. She knew me so well by now.
Eventually, in desperation, I asked Aunt Jane if she could email Cindy and ask her if she could help me with a small loan, just R25,000. My pride could not bring me to ask her this directly. Aunt Jane agreed and copied me in on the letter asking Cindy to please help me, to help bring us together.
And then I waited, waited for the money. I remember that email like it was yesterday. The blood in my veins turned ice cold, and my heart seemed to stop.
“No, it can’t be”, “No, this is not happening”, “No, no, no”. A million thoughts rushed through my brain.
I immediately messaged back… “please tell me this is genuine and that this is not a scam”. I sent the same message back to Aunty Jane.
I got no answer.
I never ever got an answer.
But who is Cindy really?
My name is Debbie, and I am “Cindy”. And it is me writing this tale, what was once a love story, shattered by the realization that the person I had been chatting to, confiding in, falling in love with was not the sexy, kind and caring man I thought I had been “Dating” all these months.
He or she and Aunty Jane” was just a con artist.
Maybe female, maybe male, maybe a whole bunch of people sitting in a stuffy windowless room pounding away on keyboards. Pounding away at innocent women’s hearts. Worming their way in, gaining their trust and then hitting them with a request for monetary help.
As the silence grew longer, my messages became angrier.
“How stupid are you to waste 4 months of time on me, when I told you from the start that I wasn’t rich” was my last unread message sent. It took a while for me to gather up the courage to report his profile to the dating site.
To admit to my friends that I had almost been conned. To my kids that their new hero didn’t exist. That the man who had made me so happy was just someone playing out a cruel game. I was embarrassed, humiliated and felt like a fool. How silly of me to think that I deserved someone like that, deserved to find true love again.
The Anatomy of a Swindler
But I am not a fool; I am an educated and sensible woman. A woman who didn’t trust easily. But I had fallen for him, for them, whoever “they” were.
This happened over ten years ago. And from what I am seeing on social media and streaming platforms – Tinder Swindler, Inventing Anna, Bad Vegan, The Dropout, The Thing About Pam, WeCrashed, Super Pumped – it is still happening.
I am sorry for misleading you by pretending to be the male in this story, but I wanted you to see how easy it is to believe what you are being told. Humans want to trust, to care, to connect.
So, I am sharing my story now as a warning.
Be careful, be careful with your trust and, most of all, your precious heart. All I had wanted was a happily ever after. I was lucky, the warning bells went off, and I didn’t lose any money, just my trust, all over again. Many others were and are not so lucky; these “things” are very good at what they do, heartless and relentless. The dating agency told me of so many other stories where things had ended even worse. So many other women, just like me, who were left feeling like idiots. Unable to share their grief with others for fear of being ridiculed.
So yes, keep on believing in a happily ever after, that true love might be out there. Because I am sure it is. But please be careful. Don’t get caught up in this sick and sad web.
I will wait to physically bump into my Prince Charming in the grocery store one fine day.
by 