Scammed and deceived: The threat of online disinformation

A recent case involving a Bangladeshi expatriate in Denmark has cast a harsh light on the insidious spread of online disinformation. 

The individual took to social media to expose a Facebook page that had stolen his photograph, fabricating a rags-to-riches tale. The post falsely claimed he had purchased a car within five months of arriving in Denmark and was earning $160 per hour as a head chef, despite hailing from a "lower-income family" who allegedly scraped together funds for his IELTS exam. 

In reality, the expat clarified, he works in a Copenhagen restaurant kitchen, earns a modest salary in Danish krone, and comes from a financially stable background — the car was bought through family savings, not mythical wages.

Upon closer inspection, the Facebook page in question peddles a steady stream of similar fabrications: heart-rending stories of students overcoming adversity to strike gold abroad. Each post obscures names, locations and social media handles, while the anonymous admin boasts of having "helped" these individuals achieve their dreams. With 25,000 followers and posts garnering up to 16,000 likes, the page is a masterclass in exploitation — using falsified triumphs to lure vulnerable audiences.

But what is the endgame? Posing as an aspiring student, we contacted the admin. The answer was blunt: money. For a fee, he promises to unlock the gates to overseas education and employment — a scam amplified through a companion Facebook group titled "Free IELTS & Study Abroad!" Here, the playbook is clear: weaponise hope, monetise desperation.

This is not an isolated incident. From NFT fraud on Twitter to doctored images inciting violence, social media has become a petri dish for deception. While scams vary, their victims share a common vulnerability: a lack of media literacy. 

Elderly citizens unversed in digital navigation and marginalised communities with limited access to credible information are disproportionately targeted. Yet financial gain is just one motive. Disinformation often serves darker agendas, such as religious provocation, political manipulation or outright communal strife.

Consider the 2019 rumour that children's heads were being buried beneath the Padma Bridge — a grotesque falsehood that sparked panic and led to the lynching of an innocent mother searching for her son's school. Or the 2012 Ramu violence, where a forged image of a burnt Quran ignited anti-Buddhist riots in Cox's Bazar. Even public health is not spared: during the pandemic, baseless claims that hot drinks or alcohol could cure COVID-19 resulted in hospitalisations and deaths.

Critics may argue that fraud and sensationalism predate social media. True. But the digital age has erased boundaries, enabling lies to metastasise globally within seconds, unchecked by regulation or accountability.

Combating this requires a modern arsenal. Media literacy — the ability to discern fact from fiction — must become our Brahmastra, the indestructible weapon. This demands urgent, empirical collaboration between researchers, educators and policymakers. Programmes tailored to marginalised groups, coupled with nationwide campaigns demystifying digital manipulation, are critical.

The stakes could not be higher. In a world where a single post can incite riots or ruin lives, equipping citizens with scepticism and scrutiny is no longer optional — it is a civic imperative.

Sakir Mohammad is a master's student of Journalism and Communication at Shanghai Jiao Tong University, China, and the former editor-in-chief of the NSU Journal of Student Research (NSU JSR). Tasmim Alam is a student at North South University.

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of The Business Standard.