SINGAPORE: A few weeks ago, my mobile phone rang with an incoming call from a local number. "Hello, I'm Alvin Lee with the HSBC anti-fraud department," said the caller.

Now, I’ve had fraudulent charges made to my credit cards in the past, incidents I managed to resolve with bank officers on the phone. However, I don’t have an account with HSBC – so like any other scam-fatigued Singaporean, I was immediately suspicious. 

One little detail stopped me from hanging up right away: He had a local accent.

“I don’t have an HSBC account,” I replied cautiously.

“But you applied for an HSBC Advance Credit Card using your Singpass on Dec 4?” he asked. I hadn’t.

He then rattled off my exact NRIC number and full name. "How did you get my information?" I asked.

"All this information came into our system when you – or someone else I guess – used Singpass to purchase this credit card," he replied.

Can we use Singpass to buy credit cards? I tried to Google this, but he was already moving on: "Your Singpass seems to have been compromised. Did you click on any malicious links in the past six months, or scan any suspicious QR codes?"

Instead of answering his questions, I asked: "Where are you calling me from?" 

He replied, without missing a beat: "Oh, from our HSBC headquarters at 21 Collyer Quay." I immediately Googled “HSBC Singapore headquarters” and that was the first address that popped up – although in the moment, I missed one small but crucial detail: That location belongs to HSBC Capital (Asia). 

Nevertheless, I tested him: “So, what other information do you need from me? My address?” 

“Oh, not at all, we already have all we need,” he said in a reassuring tone. 

He then urged me to report the crime to the Monetary Authority of Singapore (MAS). 

"Not the police?" I asked. 

"Also the police," he said.

He instructed me to write down various details so he could “let the MAS officer know”: The 16-digit number for the credit card, the exact dates and amounts of fraudulent transactions on the card, and the PIN number used for the card. I even had a case number: HSBC15226SG.

Instead of asking for my details – behaviour we’re taught to guard against – this person was giving me all the information. In fact, too much information.  

By this point, I’d started noticing other cracks. Why was he calling me on a mobile phone instead of a landline? Why was there so much static on the call, if he was indeed calling from an office?

He also sounded hurried – a common tactic used by scammers to invoke a sense of urgency.

"Why isn’t the bank reporting this?" I asked.

As with previous questions, he had a reply ready: "Yes, we are going to escalate this to MAS, but you as a victim need to do so as well. Hang on while I transfer your call to an MAS officer."

A few moments later, an older, more authoritative voice spoke, also in a local accent: "Hello, MAS. Senior investigative officer Ryan Goh speaking. How may I help you?" 

Alarm bells went off in my head. Since when do banks transfer calls to other entities? I looked at my phone screen. It was the same mobile phone number as before. 

Now I was more confident: "Can I call you back and ask for you? What is your office number?" 

"Of course,” he replied, and rattled off a landline number.  “You can ask for SIO Ryan Goh. But it's the same – I can also help you here.” 

I hung up and pulled up MAS’ official portal. The number he had given was indeed the general enquiry hotline. 

I called it. Within minutes of speaking to a real MAS officer, they confirmed that what I’d just experienced was a scam call. 

Although I was glad I didn't ultimately fall prey, I was curious how the scam would’ve played out if I’d stayed on the line. 

According to the Singapore Police Force (SPF), the scammers would likely have accused me of being involved in criminal activities such as money laundering and then attempt to deceive me into transferring my savings into “safety accounts” for “investigations”. 

Variations of this playbook could even involve video calls with scammers dressed as government officials with fake badges and logos.

WHY COULDN’T I TELL?

Scams involving the impersonation of bank and government officials have been on the rise since 2023, said SPF and MAS. In 2024, impersonation scams accounted for 13.6 per cent of total scams, with S$151.30 million (US$114 million) lost.

In such a fraught environment, I was thankful I didn’t end up adding to this statistic – but thinking back on the incident, I couldn’t quite get over my perplexment. 

How could I not tell from the very outset that it was a farce? After all, I hold a university degree and am savvy with technology. I also work in an industry that helps inform the public about such scams. 

But I’m not alone. Data shows that younger people are falling prey to scams at a higher rate than older adults and seniors. In 2024, those aged below 50 made up 70.9 per cent of Singapore’s scam victims. 

What had made me stay on the call?

First: The fraudster’s localised accent. Most scam calls I’ve fielded have, up till now, featured distinctly foreign accents that gave them away right off the bat.

But with the advancement of artificial intelligence (AI), it’s now incredibly easy to fake almost anything. My colleague Melody Chan recently tried out a tool that could copy her image, voice, accent and mannerisms in mere minutes.

Second: The accuracy of my personal information. We’re typically taught to guard against strangers asking for our personal details, but this was the first time I’d encountered someone presenting me with it instead. 

In December, Minister for Digital Development and Information Josephine Teo said the current perception of NRIC numbers leaves Singaporeans vulnerable, as it creates a "false sense of security" that it is privileged information that only the authorities know.  

Coupled with the SPF’s statement that NRIC-related scams are not new, I now understand why the government wants to stop the practice of masking them. 

Third: Information overload. 

Instead of requesting details or money, these scammers had come prepared. They had answers for every one of my (perhaps predictable) questions, and continuously fed me an overwhelming amount of ominous-sounding, stress-inducing information at a rate impossible for most people to process in real-time. 

Being forced to play catch-up left me with little capacity to properly examine the red flags I’d spotted from the beginning. 

WHEN KNOWING BETTER DOESN’T GUARANTEE SAFETY

When it comes to guarding against scams, all the usual advice applies: Look out for red flags, question everything, verify with official sources before acting on anything. 

However, as scams get more sophisticated, even educated and informed individuals cannot let their guards down.  

Knowledge and rational thinking may guide us in most circumstances, but as human beings, much of what drives us is still deeply tied to emotions. Scammers employ increasingly cunning tactics and psychological manipulation to exploit this to instil fear and panic. 

In that heightened emotional state, the brain may default to fight-or-flight mode, making it harder to process information logically. Even those who understand scams intellectually may react impulsively. 

It’s common to see comments or responses to scam articles criticising victims for being gullible or desperate. However, there’s a saying in Chinese that loosely translates to: “Everyone is susceptible to scams. If you have not fallen prey, it’s because a playbook that suits you has not materialised yet.” 

As scammers rake in record profits – victims lost US$1.03 trillion globally in 2024, with real figures likely higher due to unreported cases – it looks like our lives will continue to be plagued by fraudsters eyeing our bank accounts. 

No matter who we are, we should all be mindful of being too complacent. 

Darrelle Ng is an editor at CNA.