It started with a casual YouTube ad for a Forex trading app named “GlobalTradesFX.” The platform showed testimonials of young Indians claiming they made ₹50,000–₹1,00,000 a week with just a ₹10,000 deposit. Tempted and financially struggling due to a job loss, I decided to try.

The app interface was sleek. It had live charts, trade history, and customer support via WhatsApp. I began with ₹10,000 — which quickly grew to ₹14,000. Encouraged, I invested more. Over 20 days, I deposited a total of ₹2.4 lakh.

But when I tried to withdraw even a small amount, the app froze. Their support stopped responding, and within 48 hours, the website vanished.

I was devastated.

Then I found RAF (Rapid Action Force) through a Telegram awareness group. Within 3 days, RAF volunteers responded. They guided me in filing a Cyber Crime complaint on India’s official portal, tracked the domain registrar and IP address of the app, and even helped expose that the server was based in Hong Kong with strong links to a scam network in Cambodia.

Today, my story is shared on RAF’s platform to warn others. I may not have recovered my money fully, but I have joined RAF as a digital volunteer — because even one more victim is one too many.

It all began with an email: "Get a loan up to ₹10 lakh from a UK-based lender. No credit check. Instant disbursement."

I was planning my startup and needed capital. After a few calls and formal-looking documents, I transferred a ₹35,000 “processing fee” to a local bank account.

Then came another request: a ₹58,000 “legalization fee.” That’s when I got suspicious.

I reached out to RAF’s Cyber Crime Taskforce after seeing a Facebook post. Their response was fast. They reviewed the emails, the fake UK lender’s website, and cross-verified the company registration — it was fabricated using real government seals and logos.

RAF helped me file a cyber fraud report, informed the UK authorities via their liaison partner, and published the scam on their “Scam Alerts” page with proof.

Thanks to their awareness drive, 3 more people contacted me who were almost scammed by the same group. RAF didn’t just help me report a scam — they stopped a scammer network from targeting more Indians.

I met “Michael John” on Instagram — a kind-hearted UK engineer working in Dubai, or so I thought. Within a week, our chats grew intense. He sent pictures, poems, and even video calls (blurred or showing half his face). After a month, he proposed we meet — but said he needed ₹1.5 lakh for a “business emergency” first.

I sent the money. Then another ₹50,000 “for flight ticket” and ₹40,000 “for visa clearance.” Eventually, I realized: there was no Michael. Just a well-practiced romance scammer, operating likely from Nigeria or Eastern Europe, using fake identities.

Shattered and ashamed, I didn’t tell anyone — until I found RAF’s live webinar on “Online Romance Scams.” That gave me the courage to speak.

RAF helped me report the fraud anonymously. They taught me how to gather evidence from WhatsApp backups, IP logs, and even image reverse search tools. My case is now part of an international scam victim network RAF is building for global coordination.

From fear, I moved to empowerment. I now volunteer in RAF’s “Women Against Digital Exploitation” initiative. If this story can save someone else from emotional and financial ruin, it’s worth telling.

I was scrolling through Facebook late one night when I received a friend request from “James Lee”, a Korean-American entrepreneur living in Singapore. His profile looked legitimate — photos with friends, motivational quotes, even a few business posts.

He started chatting politely, nothing romantic. Just friendly business talk. Over a week, we moved to WhatsApp where he began sharing screenshots of his trading profits on an app called “SuperForex Global”.

“It’s not available on Google Play,” he said. “I’ll send you the APK link. Just install it and I’ll guide you.”

It looked real — charts, trade signals, and a growing wallet. I began with $200, and within days, it showed $350. Encouraged, I invested more — $500, then $1,000. He praised my “instincts” and said I could easily turn it into $10,000.

Soon, my total investment reached $4,800.

Then came the crash. The app suddenly said I needed to “verify my tax ID” by paying a $1,200 fee. I contacted their support — it was James again, now using a different name. The app and website went offline the next day.

I was embarrassed. Angry. But not silent.

Through a Reddit thread on scam apps, I discovered Rapid Action Force (RAF). I submitted my case via their international reporting form, and within 72 hours, they confirmed:

• The app was part of a larger Southeast Asian scam ring, hosted on a hidden Chinese server.

• My WhatsApp chat history showed links to known financial scam networks.

• The profile of “James Lee” was used with at least 6 different names on various platforms.

RAF helped me file a complaint in Germany, but also forwarded the case to Interpol's cybercrime unit via their legal research partner. They published the story (anonymized) on their “Live Stories” page, and even featured it in their awareness webinar, which reached 18,000+ viewers.

Since then, three other women from the U.S. and Malaysia reached out saying they were approached by the same scammer.

I didn’t just lose money. I lost trust. But through RAF, I’m now a contributor to their Digital Self-Defense Campaign in Europe. My voice became part of a louder call for justice — and that, to me, is real recovery.

I never imagined that a simple Facebook friend request could lead me into a well-organized scam — and later, into a full cybercrime investigation.

Her name was Anjali Sharma. Her profile looked perfect — traditional outfits, cute family pictures with her parents, even a birthday video with friends. We started chatting on Facebook, and within a week, she asked to shift to WhatsApp, saying she felt more comfortable there.

She was sweet, caring, and emotionally intelligent. We spoke about life, culture, even marriage. Slowly, she introduced me to a trading platform: www.irnfxnews.com.

“I’m making great money here,” she said. “If we invest together, we can start building our future. Who knows — maybe get married soon.”

She guided me patiently through the sign-up process. Since the app wasn’t available on the Play Store, she shared a download link directly. It looked convincing — live charts, profit dashboards, even customer support.

I started small: $500 (around ₹42,000) via USDT. Within a few days, my account balance showed $900.

“See! You’re already winning,” she said. “Just wait. We'll make a life together.”

But when I tried to withdraw the money, the app asked for KYC verification. I tried uploading my PAN card, Aadhar — nothing worked. The upload failed every time.

When I asked her, she casually blamed it on my laptop or internet. She promised to check with the platform team.

Ten minutes later — she was gone.

Her WhatsApp went offline. Her number was switched off. Her Facebook account had disappeared.

I was shocked, embarrassed, and angry. That’s when I remembered seeing a post about RAF – Rapid Action Force on Instagram.