Recently, my friend was scammed by a seller on Instagram. The seller sent her screenshots of supposed previous orders and politely explained why they didn’t offer Cash on Delivery. To secure the purchase, she paid half the amount upfront, with delivery promised on a specific date. It felt convincing: the urgency, the proof-of-payment images, and the friendly replies. But later, no products arrived. Her messages were left on “seen.” When she contacted her digital wallet provider and bank, both provided limited assistance. The police talked about paperwork and procedural delays.
That small transaction revealed something bigger. Scammers evolve quickly, platforms respond slowly, and victims are quietly blamed as institutions struggle to keep pace. In that gap exists the perfect environment for online financial fraud to thrive.
One major reason these scams persist is the lack of proper monitoring. After searching multiple social media platforms, my friend and I found that pages already reported several times still conduct business openly and continue trapping unsuspecting customers. When she reported the seller’s page, visible action never followed. According to Nepal Police, 19,730 cybercrime cases were recorded in the last fiscal year, nearly eight times the number from five years ago. Of these, more than 4,100 were online financial fraud cases, making up roughly one-fifth of all cybercrimes. Complaints related to cybercrime increased by 119 percent in a single year. Yet many platforms fail to respond swiftly to reported accounts or remove suspicious pages, allowing scammers to operate in plain sight.
Another significant factor is the complicated and unhelpful response from financial service providers and law enforcement. Despite reaching out within 24 hours of the transaction, my friend was told by her digital wallet company to email proof, which she did immediately. She sent chat records, the scammer’s bank account number, the receipt, and screenshots of unanswered messages. The digital wallet then told her to contact the recipient bank, which informed her that nothing could be done except notifying the police. She emailed the police and attached the required documents. Three days later, the digital wallet company asked her for a handwritten letter describing the case. Meanwhile, the police instructed her to visit the nearest station, despite their website stating that victims unable to visit physically may report online.
When she called the police station, she was told the money might never be refunded, and even if it was, the process could take months. Ironically, an online crime requires physical presence to proceed. Victims often find themselves shuttled between offices with unclear instructions and slow response times. The process alone can feel like punishment, especially when emotional and financial losses are already heavy. Many other victims online report that police often refuse complaints under Rs. 5,000, creating a low-risk, high-reward environment for scammers.
A third factor is Nepal’s digital divide. While teenagers scroll confidently, first-time internet users often lack the digital literacy to verify pages, check URL authenticity, or recognise phishing attempts. Even more concerning, recent analysis found that 70 percent of individuals suspected of cyber-enabled fraud are aged 19 to 30. In my friend’s case, the page was discovered by a relative unfamiliar with such scams. Children are increasingly at risk as well. Cases of cyber abuse involving minors have jumped from 176 to 706 within just three years.
However, this story does not have to end with fear. Nepal can take meaningful action.
We urgently need a single, centralised reporting platform with one website, one hotline, clear steps, and guaranteed follow-ups. Fragmented systems only protect criminals. Public awareness campaigns across TikTok, FM radio, television scroll bars, bus screens, and municipal offices should be prioritised.
Schools and municipalities could offer short, practical digital safety workshops, especially for first-time users and parents. Finally, social media platforms and digital service providers must be held responsible for verifying advertiser identities and removing fake pages quickly. Public risk should not depend on how loudly a victim can shout.
On a personal level, simple habits help. Double-check URLs. Never pay processing fees. Ignore requests for verification codes or OTPs. Do not share suspicious links. Report fraudulent pages immediately. And most importantly, talk openly. Every conversation is prevention.
Scams do not just steal money; they steal trust. Nepal’s digital growth depends on confidence, not cautionary trauma.
We are stepping into a future where digital transactions, online learning, mobile banking, and e-commerce will shape daily life. But progress is only progress when everyone can participate safely. As we build bridges into the digital world, we must also build guardrails. Silence protects scammers. Awareness protects us. With policy, education, and accountability, we can shift the balance. Nepal deserves an internet that lifts us, not traps us.
