Mandela Fadahunsi never thought it could happen to him. At 26, working at a technical training school in Ikeja, Lagos, he had always considered himself financially cautious. But on April 6, a WhatsApp message changed everything.
It was from a crypto investors’ group he belonged to. A user had tried and failed to withdraw funds from Crypto Bridge Exchange (CBEX). Alarmed, Fadahunsi attempted to withdraw his own 500 USDT (a dollar-pegged stablecoin). Hours passed. Then days. The system stopped responding. That’s when he knew: he had been scammed.
CBEX, which launched operations in Nigeria in July 2024, promised life-changing profits: up to 100% return in just 45 days using so-called “AI trading signals.” It looked legitimate. Users performed daily tasks like copying and pasting trading codes, racking up visible gains. There were referral bonuses and even interface upgrades that made it all look like real tech. It wasn't.
“I dipped into my rent savings,” Fadahunsi said. “I bought 500 USDT with 800,000 naira. I thought I was being smart.”
But the dream began to unravel by mid-April. CBEX stopped processing withdrawals. Its once-active administrators became silent. The platform vanished overnight along with an estimated ₦1.3 trillion ($840 million) belonging to thousands of Nigerians, according to the Nigerian Financial Intelligence Unit (NFIU).
CBEX claimed it used generative AI to execute real-time crypto trades. Investors like Fadahunsi were required to log in multiple times daily to paste trading signals. He says he doubled his investment in a month on paper.
Then, in March, CBEX shifted to an “AI Hosting” model that required less user input. It seemed like an upgrade. In hindsight, it was likely a ploy to keep people investing longer before the exit plan kicked in.
As CBEX shut down, outrage spread online. Victims across the country reported losses ranging from a few hundred dollars to millions of naira. Offices in Lagos and Ibadan were stormed and vandalised. The Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) formally labelled the operation a Ponzi scheme.
Experts say CBEX followed the classic Ponzi blueprint: it used funds from new investors to pay early adopters. The moment growth plateaued, the system collapsed.
“There’s usually no product, no verifiable economic activity,” explained Ikemesit Effiong of SBM Intelligence, a Lagos-based policy advisory firm. “They rely on word-of-mouth marketing and greed. It’s not innovation it’s financial theatre.”
Crypto and tech jargon added an air of credibility, blinding many to the red flags. Fadahunsi, like others, had only heard about the platform through trusted colleagues and friends. It felt safe. But it wasn’t.
Fadahunsi lost everything he had put into CBEX including his dream of buying land and starting a home.
“I am not proud to say I fell for a Ponzi scheme,” he confessed. “If I wasn’t greedy, I might have withdrawn early and walked away. But now? It’s all gone.”
Despite promises from authorities to investigate and recover stolen funds, the future for victims remains uncertain. Many, like Fadahunsi, are left nursing shame and financial ruin.
