Claudia Hofer

It all started so innocently. A friend request on Facebook, a simple click on "accept." I didn't know him, but his profile picture was attractive, and there was something in his message that made me pause, made me curious. I had been on my own for years, living quietly in Lucerne, Switzerland, so I guess I was more open to the attention than I realized. The man introduced himself, said he worked for a charitable organization in Nigeria, traveling frequently for his work. I saw photos of him on his profile—standing in front of buildings, surrounded by colleagues at events. I should have known better.

But when you're 58 and have been alone as long as I have, you can be more vulnerable than you want to admit. At first, our exchanges were infrequent, mostly initiated by him. Yet, as time went on, I started looking forward to our conversations. He was always so friendly, so attentive. Eventually, we took the next step—video calls. Seeing his face made everything feel more real. He was charming, and I found myself thinking about him more often than I should have.

It wasn’t long before he asked for money. Small amounts at first. He had urgent expenses, something minor he couldn't cover. I was surprised, but I rationalized it. I liked him, trusted him even. After all, we had spoken face-to-face, hadn’t we?

Over the months, those small requests grew larger. There was always some pressing need—money for a project, for a trip he was planning to visit me. It went on for two years. Two years of messages, video calls, and growing affection on my part. I had started to build a fantasy around him, convinced myself that he was everything I had been missing.

Until one day, a friend confronted me about the time and money I was investing in this stranger. I had never told anyone else, too embarrassed to admit it. But the confrontation was the jolt I needed. In a moment of clarity, I realized what I had known deep down for a while: I had been played.

Eighty thousand francs. That's how much I lost. And my pride—more than I can bear to admit.