Refilwe Masango, a former teacher, insists that First National Bank (FNB) should have protected her when, on three separate occasions in a single week, she was escorted into two branches in Johannesburg and withdrew over R2 million from her account—money that she ultimately lost to cunning scammers.
Tearfully recounting her ordeal, Refilwe (not her real name) shared how the criminals manipulated her through elaborate rituals, allegedly using muthi to alter her state of mind. She believes this left her vulnerable to their deceitful instructions.
Her story bears similarities to another FNB client, Keneilwe, who recently revealed that R2 million mysteriously vanished from her account. Keneilwe maintains that she never authorized the transfer and never shared her banking app passwords.
Refilwe’s nightmare began in February 2022 when she met a man named Jacob through a Christian dating site, CDFF (Christian Dating For Free). By April 2023, she had received R2.5 million from the sale of her Rustenburg property, which she had purchased using her pension fund. Though the property was valued at R4 million, Jacob persuaded her to sell it for a lower price, promising that she could reinvest in a lucrative Johannesburg property that could serve as both a home and a business.
On April 3, 2023, Jacob invited Refilwe to Johannesburg to initiate the property purchase. Upon her arrival, he took her to a guest lodge near BluBird Shopping Centre. There, he presented himself as a businessman dealing in cars and properties. That evening, he insisted they visit his uncle for formal introductions. Despite her initial reluctance, she was coerced into going.
At the uncle’s residence on 85 Auckland Avenue, she was introduced to a woman she describes as a wizard. The woman placed a hand on Refilwe’s face, claiming to welcome her into the family. That was the last she saw of the mysterious woman. The atmosphere in the house quickly shifted to something ominous. The uncle, claiming to possess a spiritual gift, led her into a dark prayer room lit only by candles. Inside, animal skins and a small thatched-roof hut added to the eerie setting. Fear consumed her as she was instructed to begin worshipping. As she prayed, a voice echoed in the room, addressing her by name and claiming to be her ancestors, promising an end to her suffering.
Refilwe believes that through these rituals, along with the food and drinks provided, her judgment was impaired. Soon, the scammers instructed her to withdraw her R2.5 million from her FNB account. On April 4, she was escorted to the FNB branch in Greenstone and, despite not having made prior arrangements, managed to withdraw R130,000 in cash.
Two days later, on April 6, they ordered her to withdraw R2 million. When she hesitated, citing banking policies, they assured her that everything had been arranged with FNB staff. She was then taken to an FNB branch in Sandton, where she withdrew R1.4 million. A teller handed her the money, which the scammers hurriedly stuffed into a suitcase. On April 8, she returned to the same FNB branch, accompanied once again by the scammers, and withdrew an additional R600,000. The transactions were facilitated by the same teller and bank manager, leaving Refilwe puzzled about how such large cash withdrawals were permitted without scrutiny.
After the withdrawals, the scammers finally released her, sending her back to Mafikeng. Still in a dazed state, she later complied with another instruction to transfer R130,000 into an FNB account under the name Omega Masuku on April 11. Reflecting on her time at the uncle’s residence, she recalled several unsettling experiences. One night, when she attempted to step outside to retrieve her spectacles, three men suddenly appeared and ordered her to stay inside. Another time, while waiting outside FNB for a cash withdrawal, the so-called uncle scolded her for talking on the phone with her daughter, claiming it irritated him.
The consequences of the scam have been devastating for Refilwe. Once financially comfortable with a R42,000 monthly rental income, she is now surviving on a government old-age grant. She has had to downgrade her lifestyle and struggles with depression. The financial strain has affected not just her but also an orphaned child she had been supporting, who has since dropped out of school.
She holds FNB partly accountable for her financial loss, questioning why the bank allowed her to withdraw such substantial sums in cash without raising suspicions. After reporting the scam to the South African Police Service (SAPS), she learned that FNB’s policy prohibits cash withdrawals over R50,000 without proper authorization. Yet, she was given over R2 million in cash within a week without any intervention from bank staff.
Refilwe is not alone in her grievance. Many other scam victims have come forward, revealing a disturbing pattern in which scammers push their targets to open FNB accounts. Last December, a dossier was submitted to FNB, documenting multiple cases like hers, where victims claim the bank failed to protect them during in-person visits or online transactions.
Sizwekazi Mdingi, FNB’s head of public relations and external communications, stated that the bank takes fraud cases seriously and investigates them thoroughly. While declining to discuss specific cases, she assured that FNB employs multiple fraud detection measures and advises clients to seek guidance from registered financial advisors before making investment decisions. She encouraged customers to report fraud incidents immediately through FNB’s official channels.
Despite these assurances, Refilwe and other victims remain dissatisfied, demanding accountability. As more cases surface, questions persist about whether banks are doing enough to safeguard clients from sophisticated scams that prey on their trust and vulnerabilities.
