`Some concerned folks have raised the possibility that information given on contact tracing forms can also be
a source of these leaks.’
Snaps to the Securities and Exchange Commission for moving to institutionalize a framework to regulate online lending platforms (OLPs). We saw the rise of OLPs even prior to the pandemic, offering easy loans to folks who need a leg up until the next payday, or to deal with unforeseen expenses that tend to come at inopportune times. Traditional borrowing suddenly went online — all a consumer had to do was to provide a valid government-issued ID, a mobile number, and more importantly, no collateral — and voilí , cash will be deposited in your account. For someone in a jam, the OLPs provide a seemingly painless solution to getting a loan. Until the dark side revealed itself, all too soon.
Borrowers suddenly found themselves the subject of threats from collecting agents hired by OLPs to help collect payment. Family, friends, and office mates of borrowers started receiving messages from unregistered numbers, informing all and sundry that their friend X owes money and has not paid. How embarrassing for these folks! While the National Privacy Commission also stepped in at the height of the controversy (I understand that the NPC has already penalized some entities), it’s disconcerting to hear that this abominable practice persists to this day.
Just a few weeks ago, I received one such message from an unregistered mobile number, informing me that X (mind you, the poor person’s full name was spelled out) had an outstanding loan with them and has apparently not made any payment. Worse, the sender even informed me that I would be made personally liable for the said debt if X did not pay at a certain time. While I obviously do not scare easily with empty threats, I could not confidently say the same for others who may have been sent the same message.I checked my phone book for X’s name (it sounded vaguely familiar) and found that I indeed had someone by that name there. X worked as a coordinator in a media outfit, and probably had my name and number in her contact list for interviews and such. Like thousands before, X had turned to an OLP to access a quick loan, not knowing that the app being used by the OLP scoured her phone book and mined all those numbers, in the event of default to name and shame the borrower. I wonder how many former and incumbent public officials received the same message as I did?
Another insidious by-product of this illegal collection of mobile numbers is the practice of selling them to marketers, who use them to spam users with unwelcome advertisements and messages. Lately I’ve noticed a rise in these messages with almost the same offering: “I am a project manager, we are hiring for a part/full time job, you can earn 3000 to 6000 every day.” What gives? Where else do these people get these numbers from? Some concerned folks have raised the possibility that information given on contact tracing forms can also be a source of these leaks. If that is the case, then hundreds of thousands of mobile numbers are potentially affected, given how everyone has given these out just to enter establishments during the pandemic.
It’s concerning because securing mobile contact information is a step towards identity fraud, especially now that your banking apps and other financial services are linked to a mobile number of your own choice. As the BSP said, cyber fraud is on the rise, and while we should all take steps to secure our information, the onus cannot just fall on citizens.
Other government agencies must also step up and hold custodians of personal information and data to a higher standard.
It’s just the kind of spam no one wants, and it should stop.
