OH, Malaysia – land of nasi lemak, humid weather, and unfortunately, con artists who work harder than a kopitiam aunty during breakfast rush.
If you have not received a call from “PosLaju”, “Maybank” or a serious-sounding “officer” from Bukit Aman threatening to freeze your MyKad – are you even Malaysian?
Let us begin with the infamous “police call” scam. You answer a lucky number and you are knee-deep in drama.
“Salam sir, ini Inspector Roslan dari Bukit Aman. Nama kamu terlibat dalam kes melibatkan sindiket dadah dan 17 akaun palsu di Sabah.” (Salam, sir. This is Inspector Roslan from Bukit Aman. Your name has been linked to a drug syndicate and 17 fake accounts in Sabah.)
One minute you are waiting in line for roti canai and the next, you are apparently a criminal mastermind.
On top of that, the scammers will generously offer to “help clear your name” – for a small, totally-not-fishy bank transfer to a third-party account, of course.
Then there is the “PosLaju” version. They call and tell you that your package has been seized because it contains something illegal, like drugs or fake credit cards, and somehow your name is in the middle of it.
You are wondering: “I only bought baju kurung from Shopee, how did this spiral into a global crime?”
Not to be outdone, the “Macau scam” (not named for where it originated but for how flashy it is) is the most upscale of all cons. They mix police impersonation with bank warnings and even go so far as to claim to be Bank Negara officials.
These fellows work together better than a kenduri caterer, and their condescension? Olympic standards. They talk so fast and earnestly that you start questioning yourself if you did unintentionally start a money laundering operation in your sleep.
Romance scams have also found a ground in our tropical paradise. Some isolated aunty thinks she has met her soulmate on Facebook – maybe a gruff, widowed army medic supposedly trapped in Syria or an oil rig worker in the South China Sea who, oddly enough, types like he is using Google Translate.
Before you know it, she has sent RM20,000 for visa fees, emergency flights or “life-saving surgery”. And all this without even a single Zoom date.
And who can forget the classic “scratch and win” scams of the early 2000s? Some overly enthusiastic guy at the mall hands you a scratch card that declares you’ve “won a car” – but first, of course, you have to fork out RM5,000 in “processing fees”.
Malaysians were led to believe they could be cruising around in a brand new Toyota Vios soon, only to walk away with a pressure cooker and deep regret for existing.
The internet age has not left us lagging too. WhatsApp scams are going strong globally and right here at home.
“Hi mummy, I’ve lost my number. Please transfer RM3,000 to this account – I lost my phone.” You are frantic. Your child is stranded! But wait – your child is five years old. Can barely write, let alone use online banking.
And, praise be to God for the fearless scammers now boldly masquerading as Maybank.
You get a text: “Your Maybank2u account is locked. Click this link to verify.” The link, of course, looks like it came straight out of a phishing-themed action movie: www.m4ybangk-secureee.biz. Even the grammar gives up halfway through.
But the real cherry on top? Scammers pretending to be officers from the Malaysian Anti-Corruption Commission, accusing you of graft.
Imagine-lah – you, still bargaining over 20 sen at the pasar malam, somehow laundering millions. Seriously, it would almost be flattering... if it weren’t such a facepalm moment.
And Malaysians God bless us –we are a polite lot. Even when we are suspicious, we still listen. We politely respond with “hmm” and “oh really?” through the entire scam call because we do not want to be impolite. Then we hang up and immediately tell our cousin: “I think I kena scam just now.”
But it is not all bad news. The tide, my friends, is turning!
Malaysians are no longer so easily swayed by a sob story from a mysterious “Syrian general” or promises of a free car (which, let’s be honest, would probably be a Proton Saga from 1992 anyway).
There is a growing wave of public vigilance so strong you can almost hear the collective “tsks” of disappointment from scammers nationwide.
Recent reports from the National Scam Response Centre – bless their diligent hearts – read like the beginning of a superhero origin story. In just the first three months of 2024, they reportedly recovered over RM20 million. That is enough to buy a small island – or at the very least, a lifetime supply of kuih muih.
This just goes to show that quick action and a good old-fashioned dose of Malaysian skepticism can make a difference.
Even our beloved police are getting in on the act, sharing scam warnings on social media like gossip at a pasar malam. They are dropping knowledge bombs on new scam tactics faster than a mamak can whip up a roti canai banjir.
As a result, aunty now wisely calls her children before transferring money. Uncle and this makcik no longer answer unknown numbers.
And the cats? Even they are wise – no longer trusting the postman when he claims he is delivering a package of tuna – they know it is probably just another bill. It is a beautiful sight to behold.
Thus, my dear Malaysians, remain vigilant.
If anyone tells you that you owe the LHDN money or that there is a package addressed to you with meth inside, take a deep breath, brew yourself a cup of teh tarik and repeat the following: if it sounds daft, it probably is.
And if you suddenly “win” a Perodua Myvi for doing absolutely nothing, just chuckle, delete the message and go win a real one from a petrol station lucky draw like the rest of us.
Scamlah... not today.
Azura Abas is the associate editor of theSun. Comments: letters@thesundaily.com
