by Dr Rahim Said
There is a certain sickness festering in the digital corridors of our modern lives. A sickness that preys not on wealth or possessions, but on something infinitely more valuable — trust.
This is perhaps one of the most callous and despicable evolutions of cybercrime, we now face a scam so cold-blooded it weaponises the natural love between parent and child.
Known by its disarmingly innocent opening line — “Hi Mum” or “Hi Dad” — this scam has steadily evolved at what fraud experts call breakneck speed. What began as crude text messages has, with the help of AI-driven voice note impersonation, grown into a sinister, convincing assault on the vulnerable instinct of parents to help their children without hesitation.
The scam’s anatomy is straightforward but devastatingly effective: A message arrives from an unknown number claiming to be your son, your daughter, your mother, or a close friend.
The premise is urgent — they’ve lost their phone, can’t access their bank account, and need a quick transfer for rent, bills, or some other emergency. The scammers play on fear and duty, tightening their grip with every exchange, until the victim, driven by anxiety and love, wires funds to a stranger.
Let us be clear: this isn’t clever. It’s cowardly. It’s parasitic. And it’s a reflection of a society increasingly desensitised to empathy and human decency in pursuit of easy money.
Between 2023 and 2025, these scams drained £226,744 from UK victims according to Action Fraud.
But numbers alone can’t measure the true cost. These are parents sitting in dark rooms wondering how they were duped. Sons and daughters discover their elderly parents lost half their savings to someone pretending to be them. Entire families shaken by betrayal from an invisible predator.
The technological leap that has made this possible is both remarkable and terrifying. As Chris Ainsley from Santander UK warns, AI voice impersonation technology is being used to produce WhatsApp voice notes indistinguishable from a loved one’s voice.
This isn’t science fiction — it’s happening now. The very tools designed to connect and enrich our lives are being twisted to exploit our most primal emotions.
Let’s be honest — we are not prepared.
Malaysians are especially vulnerable, with our culture of filial piety and tight-knit families making us ripe targets.
Yet awareness is criminally low. While UK victims are encouraged to report scams to Action Fraud or forward scam texts to 7726, many Malaysians wouldn’t even know where to begin.
Our local scam reporting channels remain underpublicised, underfunded, and underutilised.
It is time for a hard reset. Every family should establish security measures: a family password system, private check-in codes, or trusted verification steps.
It takes less than a minute to ask: What’s Dad’s old car registration number? or What’s Mum’s favourite childhood dish? — a detail no scammer would know.
We must stop romanticising digital convenience and start treating it with the same caution we would a stranger knocking on our door at midnight.
If a message tugs at your heartstrings while asking for money, verify. Pick up the phone. Wait for a reply. Ask questions. And teach your children and elderly parents to do the same.
To the authorities and telcos, the time for public service announcements and vague warnings has long passed.
What we need is a concerted, sustained nationwide education effort. Banner ads, mobile alerts, school talks, workplace briefings.
Make it impossible to ignore.
To those running these scams — you are not clever.
You are not skilled. You are leeches feeding on the goodwill of decent people. And to those of us still scrolling through our phones, heads buried in screens: beware. Because when love becomes a weapon, no one is safe.
WE