One victim’s frustrating journey through the legal maze after cyber fraud
(This is a continuation of the cyber fraud article published in these columns last week. Here, the victim recounts his distressing journey of trying to reclaim his stolen money. — Editor)
MS Shanker
When he (Radhakrishna, name changed) first discovered that he had been duped by cybercriminals, he says it felt like the ground had slipped beneath his feet. But what followed was worse than the trauma of financial loss—it was a prolonged, emotionally exhausting, bureaucratic nightmare that continues to this day.
“Soon after filing the FIR with the Cyber Crime Branch, I was told how the recovery process works. And I stress possibly recovering my money—because at every step, the system offers more confusion than clarity,” he recalls.
A Kafkaesque Process
Here’s what the process looks like: the Cyber Crime Branch begins by tracing the stolen funds through bank accounts. If any balance remains in the initial or subsequent accounts where the money was routed, they issue a freeze order. This report, detailing account numbers, banks involved, and amounts frozen, is submitted to the Hon’ble Chief Metropolitan Magistrate. A copy is also shared with the complainant.
Sounds efficient? It isn’t.
“The next step requires the victim—that is, me-to hire a lawyer and file a petition before the Hon’ble Court, requesting a release order for my own money. Legal fees? I had to bear them. Emotional stress? I bore that too.”
Then began the waiting game.
Also read: https://orangenews9.com/duped-by-cyber-cops-abandoned-by-the-banks/
In Telangana, it takes three to four weeks just to get a hearing date. It took about three weeks. If the judge is satisfied, a release order is passed. But the order must then be typed, signed, and dispatched, adding another 3–4 working days.
Even after that, there’s no guarantee the bank or Cyber Crime Branch will act swiftly. To avoid further delays, he handed a copy of the order to the officials. Only then did they email the concerned bank branch to release the funds.
Still, that wasn’t the end. He was left in the dark. Would the money be credited today? Tomorrow? Never? The only way to find out was to physically visit the Cyber Crime office—assuming, of course, the right officer was even available to speak with him.
The system offers no visibility, no accountability, and certainly no empathy.
A Case in Point
So far, he has received five release orders from the Hon’ble Court, totalling ₹46.69 lakh. Here’s how that’s gone:
- Order 1 – ₹24.47 lakh: No balance available
- Order 2 – ₹6.00 lakh: No balance available
- Order 3 – ₹6.27 lakh: No balance available
- Order 4 – ₹5.00 lakh: Amount received
- Order 5 – ₹4.95 lakh: Amount frozen with the bank, but not yet released
When he questioned the Cyber Crime Branch about why the amounts sanctioned were not credited, he was told banks act on a First-In, First-Out (FIFO) basis. That is, if other court orders reached the bank earlier, those claimants were prioritized.
This felt deeply unjust, especially in the case of the fifth release order, for which the bank had received instructions as far back as October 2024. Despite repeated follow-ups and direct calls to bank officials (who now avoid answering), not a rupee has been released.
To fight for his own money, he’s had to spend even more on legal fees, documentation, travel, and mental health. He knows senior citizens who’ve suffered similar frauds and, unable to endure the stress and delay, have fallen into depression—or worse.
Where’s the Justice?
What angers him most is the lack of sensitivity from the system.
“We’re not fools who fall for get-rich-quick schemes. We’re retirees, living off our life savings. We were manipulated, threatened, and coerced,” he says.
Yet the burden of proof, paperwork, and process lies entirely with victims like him.
Why must victims beg for updates? Why is there no clear timeline, no helpline, no structured grievance mechanism? The current legal and administrative framework doesn’t just delay justice—it often denies it.
Today, all he expects is some official response. Even a simple acknowledgment would help. But there’s none. Only silence.
This ordeal has left him broken, helpless, and unsure if justice will ever be served. Will he ever see his money again? Or will his case, like so many others, be buried in court files and forgotten?
“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “All I know is this isn’t just a fraud case anymore. It’s an endless test of my patience, my dignity, and my faith in the system.”
