THE RM700 million personal bank loan connivance exposed last week produced a curious twist: there were no actual "victims".
Dating back to the pandemic's early days, this conspiracy revolved around a cooperative trifecta of participants. It works like this: as masterminds, the "financial consultants" stage-managed 4,000 indebted civil servants, blacklisted for poor creditworthiness, as "legitimate borrowers", signing forged but plausible documents enclosed in loan applications.
The masterminds then paid off bank officers who "approved" the loans with sizeable kickbacks garnished from the moving funds. After accounting for "miscellaneous" deductions, the masterminds pocketed the remainder of the "borrowed" loans, funnelling big chunks into investments and luxurious objects of desire.
Here's the kicker: the banks drawn in by the trifecta reclaimed their loans — with interest. If there ever was a "victim" in this shenanigan, it is the banks' flawed personal loan procedure, "masked" as routine transactions that sidestepped established red flags. The deception worked flawlessly until it imploded in what could only have been a whistleblower tip off that triggered a forensic audit.
Run by the Malaysian Anti Corruption Commission, Op Sky has recovered RM16.2 mil lion from the bank accounts of 70 companies and individuals, as well as confiscating luxury cars, watches and handbags and RM300,000 in cash.
Here's the paradoxical oddity: in an alternate universe, this racket could have been legitimately "reimagined".
The banks would collaborate with the government to launch a civil service debt-settling scheme through easy monthly deductions, motivated by a beneficent corporate tax relief. In this enlightened scheme, the "financial consultants" who exploited the loophole are locked out, while the profiteering bank officers are forced to remain above board.
It's altruistically utopian, possibly doable, but still a fantasy.
Applying for personal bank loans is akin to a tooth ex traction, even for people with potential means to repay. Banks are so risk-averse to a repeat of previous non-performing loan crises that they ruthlessly cut down much-needed funding at a critical juncture of the pandemic.
However, loans were given out but were dominated by major companies, while 50 per cent of small and medium-scale enterprises were rejected.
Individuals, the financially strapped and blacklisted civil servants, were shunned. With nothing to lose, it's understandable that the debtors embraced the plot as heaven sent, with or without questions asked.
Now it's uncertain if these "settled" bank loans could be derailed because of the machinations of corruption. If it did, these civil servants may have to resort to jobbery or cutthroat loan sharks just to survive.
Here's a plea to the Finance Ministry: consider an allocation to help civil servants clear serious debts, without preaching the moral high horse when top-level corruption plagues the service.
Notwithstanding the cliché "live by your means", cash lent through loans for the desperate, propped by ongoing salary hikes, does buy happiness and peace of mind.