There’s no fool like an old fool: I’ve just been scammed online. But it’s the system that makes this possible.
A week ago Thursday, I advertised a quite expensive camera for sale on a well-known local photographic company’s website. I’ve used the site before and never had a problem. Less than a quarter of an hour after placing the ad, I received an SMS from one ‘Gavin Turner’ wanting to buy the camera, at the advertised price.
Amazed at the speed of his response, I asked him to deposit the funds into my bank account, and arranged for the parcel to be couriered to him. He told me that it was for his wife, ‘who was leaving tomorrow night’. His brother ‘Nick Turner’ would collect the parcel for him from Postnet in Melville, in Johannesburg. Proof of payment arrived swiftly via SMS and I despatched the parcel.
You know the rest, don’t you?
Although the camera was duly collected, the funds never arrived in my bank account – despite proof of payment (from a company called ‘Bashumi Construction’ operating an Absa bank account, by the way).
I even received an email from ‘Gavin Turner’ thanking me for my honesty. I bet that caused a roar of laughter at the Rogues Retreat or Thieves Tavern or wherever ‘Turner’ and his ilk hang out for their evening ale.
What makes this doubly irritating and somewhat baffling as I look into the mirror is that I know all this. Rule No.1 – don’t release the goods until the funds show up in your bank account. Rule No.2 – get a physical address for delivery. Rule No.3 – insist on a copy of the buyer’s ID (that’s law these days, I discovered). Rule No.4 – if in doubt, refer to Rule No.1. Yet I still went blithely ahead and sent the camera.
My bad, as they say in the modern classics. At the root of the decision probably lay greed – super-keen not to lose the sale, I took a chance and paid the price.
Contacting the photographic company concerned to find out if they had ever heard of ‘Gavin Turner’ or ‘Bashumi Contruction’ – they had not – I learnt that I’m not the only fool out there. This type of fraud is a major problem.
Which brings me to the nub of this article: why does our banking system allow a crook to make a payment, send ‘proof of payment’ and then reverse the transaction?
Surely ‘proof of payment’ should mean just that? Not ‘this is an intent to pay – maybe’?
I suspect that the answer is tied up with another of modern life’s great mysteries: where does the money go when it leaves my bank account today and only shows up in your account two or three days later? In the age of electronic transactions, which are instantaneous, there should be no more than a few milliseconds between the two, surely?
There are, of course, payment systems and methods which avoid this problem entirely, like PayPal. Click the ‘Pay Now’ button and you do in fact ‘Pay Now’. I have not used PayPal as a vendor, only as a buyer, so I imagine there is a fee of some sort attached to this transaction, but with hindsight, I would happily have paid to know that my camera sale was a secure transaction. Aaahhh, hindsight – yes, how wise we all become with hindsight!
So there’s my tale of woe. If you’re selling anything online beware of someone called ‘Gavin Turner’ and ‘Bashumi Construction’ – they’re not who or what they appear. But equally, understand that when a reputable institution like Absa sends you a ‘proof of payment’, it’s nothing of the sort.
I think the banks need to change this, but I’m not holding my breath. In the meantime, did I remind you about Rule No.1?
Update: I’ve subsequently heard back from my bank, which had a conversation with Absa’s Fraud Division. It transpires that the so-called ‘proof of payment’ was also completely false, a total fabrication. I’ve been caught hook, line and sinker!