My hacked Instagram account teaches us a lesson or two

If you have been a follower of @freddymacha14 you might have noticed something odd about my Instagram account since January 18, 2022. You might have heard me approaching (via your private message) asking to trade in Bitcoin and other quick money-making rubbish. You may have seen a dazzling photograph of an amazing expensive car. You see me freddymacha14 luring you to invest by sending me money and you will thus be rich soon. You might have been enticed by a beautiful female whose voluptuous body captivated one of my friends. However, not believing the real Freddy Macha would use a pretty woman to seduce males on Instagram, the good friend contacted me via WhatsApp.

“Freddy, this woman of yours. Is she single? Can you bring her down my house one day, and I shall cook ugali and chicken biriani for you both.”

Yes. Having confirmed that my Instagram account had been stolen in broad daylight, my friend blocked the page and reported the case to the Instagram “authorities.”

Like many others who have reported and blocked freddymacha14, Instagram still remains silent as though the bombing in Ukraine is a children’s gololi game. For those reading this and don’t know what gololi is, ask Tanzanians over the age of 40.

Meanwhile?

Some of freddymacha14 followers (especially Tanzanians) have fallen for it. One sent the hacker $400 thinking it was me and trustworthy and faithfully “invested “ in this “millionaire” scheme.

The hacker has been operating my account and using my name to get to friends and followers. Majority, however, did not fall for it. For example, his use of Google-translated Swahili. We know the thieves are from an African country and this could be their chance to learn Kiswahili. Subsequently, most punters figured out this wretched creep does not really manage Kiswahili. Twenty-first century identity theft, par excellence.

Internet or cyber crime is huge right now. Twenty years ago you were lured with emails claiming you won a jackpot of millions of dollars. Or that the person emailing you is part of the late Muammar Qaddafi’s family (or any other slain leader) with lots of dosh. All you needed to do was send a few shillingis and you will soon be another Bill Gates and Mohammed Dewji. Back in 2000, it was new and seductive. Now we know the gimmick. Being sleek and flexible these cyber criminals change with the times. Now they are using social media.

Like?

Instagram....

Bloomberg , the financial data and software company, claims that Instagram is worth $100 billion. A hundred billion dollars. Money enough to buy anything.

And me being hacked, I of course reported to Instagram.

Straightforward. Right? Unfortunately, IT IS not THAT straightforward.

There are two types of business establishments. Those making money and caring for customers. This type have a functioning customer service, answer phones, emails, letters, while making sure everyone is paid. Such school of business is ideal. Correct?

The second type just does its thing. No customer service. Can’t be reached. THEY are getting more and more common. Uber for example. You cannot just phone Uber. Many institutions too. Take doctors here in London. You want a doctor? There are phone lines open at a certain time. But the recorded messages always advise you to go online and fill a form. Go online and do this and that.

When I wanted to fly to Tanzania last year, I did not speak to a single soul. I booked everything online. Paid online. The only time I got a “physical service” was at London Heathrow Airport where the clerks asked me if I had filled Covid-19 forms and stuff like that. Even the Covid -19 tests were booked on line. I met the person testing me for a few minutes but otherwise no face to face customer service. Upon returning, when we stayed quarantined until results of a self-made test were through, I did not meet a single human. Everything was via phones and emails... and you get the picture...

Instagram, rich, loved, popular and famous, does not have open phone lines, which would have been ideal. Hello hello, screen chats, voice chats, happy customer service?

Nope.

Such is the frustrating chain of innuendos that you soon realise the brand is just there to make a mint, as English folk say. WE post our pictures and videos. We feel elated about ourselves. We connect to our egos on a daily basis. They make THE money.

I heard an allegation that the US-based Tanzanian blogger Mange Kimambi was once hacked. Since Instagram was not reacting, Mange decided to “physically” visit Instagram offices where she finally got their attention. Luckily, Mange Kimambi lives in the USA, where Instagram is based.

Meanwhile, as this circus remains unresolved I have kicked off a new account @machafreddy until, hopefully, Instagram yawns, pees, and coughs.