My family and I lost S$500,000 to a scam. Taking responsibility for it was hard, but it helped me grow

CNA

6 hours ago

I learnt the most painful lesson of my life in 2019.
Together with my wife, my in-laws and my brother, we lost nearly half a million dollars to a scam. The financial loss was devastating – but the real damage was personal, relational, and emotional.
You might be wondering: How does a mature, educated person fall so hard for a scam? The prime reason: Trust.
One day, a friend introduced me to a charismatic forex trader, a well-mannered gentleman who exuded confidence and credibility. He shared an investment opportunity which promised good returns in the form of fixed monthly payouts with a simple one-month withdrawal notice.
I'm not usually one to trust strangers at first sight, but my friend's introduction had lowered my guard. I decided to invest a small sum to test the waters. But when the returns came as promised, I started gradually increasing my investment sum and even rolled the profits back into the scheme.
There were no red flags – no pressure, just consistent 'results' from a 'professional' who seemed to know what he was doing. What began as a cautious experiment grew into a six-figure commitment within a few years.
During that time, we connected over shared values, talked about business and exchanged stories about our lives. He came across as sincere, humble and sharp. He even supported me as a donor in my corporate fundraising career.
My trust in him was built slowly over those years. The more we connected and the more money I made, the more my confidence in both him and the scheme grew.
Eventually, he became someone I considered a friend. I never imagined I could be wrong about him.
PULLING OTHERS IN
As I fell deeper and deeper, I began encouraging others around me to join the scheme. I won't lie, I did receive a recurring referral commission; however, I also genuinely believed it was a great opportunity.
I told myself it was a win-win: People around me would benefit, and I would earn a little extra. Why think twice?
In total, I introduced over 20 people to the scheme, including close friends and family. Like me, they were drawn in by the personal relationship they had with the individual bringing them in. We were all in.
Then one day, everything came crashing down.
I still remember the day I received the shocking news: The 'trader' had been arrested and charged for fraud. The jig was up – it was a Ponzi scheme.
I felt physically sick. In that moment, I didn't know what was worse, that my money was gone, or that I had unknowingly led people I cared about into the same trap.
It was beyond awful to realise that I wasn't just a victim; I was an accomplice, an unintentional instigator of harm.
My emotions were all over the place. All the same, I knew I couldn't wait.
I broke the news to those affected. For three nights, I couldn't sleep. I lost my appetite. My wife, daughter, and I were devastated. We had to tighten our belts overnight, and our thoughts ran wild with worst-case scenarios – what if we never recovered from this?
BROKEN FRIENDSHIPS
We were hurting about the financial loss. But even more so, we agonised over the emotional fallout: Strained relationships, broken trust, and deep shame.
Some friends were gracious and understanding, and I'll forever be indescribably grateful.
Others weren't. A few relationships never recovered – and honestly, I don't blame them. They had every right to be angry, to question and criticise my judgment now.
By then, I was no longer in close touch with the friend who had originally introduced me to the trader. Nevertheless, it felt like our friendship, too, was over.
The case went to court but as it unfolded, the victims were divided. Some supported the prosecution, hoping to recover their funds since the trader's accounts were frozen. Others held onto hope that if the case was dropped, payouts might resume. Two camps, two versions of denial – and I felt caught between them.
Then came another gut-wrenching twist – I was called to testify as a prosecution witness.
Truth be told, I didn't want to do it. Rationally, I understood that the scammer had done wrong to myself and so many others. Still, he had been my friend. I still felt lingering gratitude to him, especially for his support earlier in my career.But I had no choice. The law compelled me. I had to do the right thing.
TAKING OWNERSHIP
If you're thinking 'This could never happen to me', I understand. I once thought the same. But scams don't always look like scams. They often come to us disguised as opportunity, friendship and success.
Eventually, I came to a painful but important realisation: Though the trader had been at the crux of it all, it wasn't just his fault. It was also mine.
I had enabled him by placing relationships above reason and emotion above evidence. I had wanted to trust him so much that I'd failed to see when that trust had crossed over into blindness.
I had to confront my blind spots and take ownership of my actions and decisions. I began rebuilding – not just my finances, but also my mindset and capabilities.
With strong support from my mentors and friends, I immersed myself in deal-making – this time making sure to do thorough due diligence at every single step. I dove deeper into stock investing, trading psychology and financial literacy. I took charge of my own investments instead of outsourcing my financial future to so-called experts.
Today, I'm fortunate enough to have bounced back to an even stronger financial standing than before, with good returns from my own investment portfolio. But more importantly, I've built resilience.
I may have learnt my lesson the hard way, but I'm now writing this to tell you that you don't have to do the same.
Always exercise caution. Ask tough questions. Do your homework. And remember: the most important investment you'll ever make is in your own education and awareness.
NEW BEGINNINGS
Out of this painful pitfall, I found a new purpose: To help others avoid falling into the same pit.
I founded the Rainmaker Community, a business and social network where people gather monthly to learn and grow together, not only about growing in wealth but also in wisdom, human connection, and character. We don't promise returns or chase hype – we build relationships and pursue purpose.
I'm not proud of what happened. But I am proud of how I responded. It taught me this valuable lesson: That failure can indeed become life's most powerful teacher, but only if you're willing to meet it with honesty and humility.