It was a quiet Friday afternoon in my bedsitter near Pwani University, the kind of Kilifi heat that makes you want to stay indoors and scroll through your phone. At the time, my M-Pesa account was sitting on 20,000 KES—my tuition fees for the semester, sent by my father three months prior to ensure I was cleared for exams. Having that kind of liquidity felt like a safety net, but in the world of digital finance, a safety net can quickly look like a risky launching pad if you aren’t careful.
The shift began when I was added to a Telegram group promising high-yield returns on small crypto deposits. I started with a skeptical “test” of 5 USD via Binance. An hour later, 10 USD landed in my account. The dopamine hit was instantaneous. I doubled down with 20 USD, then watched it grow to 80 USD. I felt like I had cracked a secret code; I even remember feeling a sense of deep sense for what seemed like a sudden stroke of financial luck. I felt invincible, as if I were finally moving from a humble student budget to a position of real “wealth.”
But the invincibility was an illusion designed by the “all-in” moment. Driven by the success of the earlier smaller trades, I decided to risk the entire tuition balance—roughly 180 USD. As soon as the transaction cleared, the atmosphere changed. When I attempted to withdraw, the platform stalled, citing “unfollowed rules” and demanding a secondary deposit of equal value to “unlock” my funds. I tried everything—logic, technical arguments, even emotional pleas to the customer support team—but I was met with a cold, digital wall. The realization hit me like a physical weight: I had been scammed, and my tuition money was gone.
The days that followed were a masterclass in accountability and crisis management. There was no “easy fix” or ancestors to bail me out; I had to face the reality of my choice. I spent that time restructuring my finances and eventually utilized my next semester’s HELB loan to cover the deficit and sit for my exams. It was a stressful, expensive detour, but it fundamentally changed how I view “opportunity.”
Looking back, that experience at Pwani was more than just a financial loss; it was the moment I traded “luck” for analysis. I learned that in the digital world, if a deal seems too good to be true, you are likely the product, not the partner. Today, I approach every investment and digital platform with a rigorous level of due diligence. I no longer look for “glitches in the system”—I look for sustainable growth, verified data, and, most importantly, I never put my essential “eggs” in one unverified basket.
Image source: Tara Winstead