CBEX captured users with promises of AI-powered super profits, lucrative referral bonuses and easy withdrawals.
A number of Kenyans using a popular cryptocurrency and forex trading platform known as CBEX have lost their fortunes after their accounts were emptied.
CBEX captured users with promises of AI-powered super profits, lucrative referral bonuses and easy withdrawals. Investors were promised returns of up to 30 percent in just 30 days.
Here are stories of Kenyans who lost their fortunes on CBEX.
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Many people invested in the hope of making quick riches through the automated crypto trading.
Bessy Kagendo: I never imagined someone I knew so well could betray me like that
When Bessy Kagendo put Sh105,000 in the CBEX cryptocurrency platform, she had high hopes that she would double the money every month.
In the aftermath of the digital financial platform’s sudden collapse, hundreds of Kenyans have been left staring at unpaid loans, losses and family disputes.
Many had invested in the hope of making quick riches through the automated crypto trading.
For Ms Kagendo, it all began with a phone call from a trusted high school friend.
“She was my classmate, my neighbour—we came from the same village,” she says. “So when she told me about this ‘investment’ that had changed her life, I didn’t question it. I believed her.”
The pitch was simple: invest in an online crypto trading platform called CBEX, and watch your money grow through automated ‘robot’ trading. Her friend, who referred to the platform loosely as “Bitcoin”, claimed she was earning up to $100 (Sh13,000) a day.
“She was so convincing,” Ms Kagendo says. “That same evening, I sent her Sh105,000 to join.”
At first, it felt real. Ms Kagendo would log into an online dashboard, watch simulated trades in real-time, and see her balance steadily grow. The dream was alive—until it was not.
“For two weeks, the numbers were rising. It showed something like this — BTC $91,271.27 — before it collapsed. That’s about Sh11.8 million. It felt like I was finally going to be rich. When it was time to withdraw, it showed ‘technical error’. Then the platform stopped working altogether. I couldn’t even log in. That’s how it ended," she says, adding, “I had even introduced my family and their online dashboards kept showing how their money was growing daily until the day withdrawals were blocked for all of us.”
With her money gone, Ms Kagendo reached out to her friend.
“Her phone was off,” she says. “That’s when it hit me. I might have just lost everything. I was in shock. I never imagined someone I knew so well could betray me like that,” she says.
She did not file an official police report, instead reaching out to a CID officer. But with the money having been sent to her friend’s number, there was little he could do. “Up to now, there’s been no progress,” she says.
She says she is a single mother and a small business owner and coming up with the Sh105,000 was not an easy task.
“The loss has destabilised my life. I cannot sleep well,” she says.
She now believes her friend may not have been a mere victim, but a knowing participant. “These people are trained. They know how to convince you. She was part of it—I’m almost sure.”
'The recruiter painted a picture of freedom—money that would change my life and double my investment.'
Gladys Nyokabi: I’ve learned my lesson
Gladys Nyokabi, 28, a Nairobi-based mitumba trader, saw Sh50,000 vanish into the CBEX black hole. She, too, was lured by friends and the promise of easy, big returns.
“I’m a risk-taker so when a friend told me about making quick money, it wasn’t hard for her to convince me. She painted a picture of freedom—money that would change your life and double my investment.”
At first, she received regular “bonuses” every Monday. It seemed legitimate. Ms Nyokabi started convincing her friends and family to join.
“When I logged in, my dashboard showed $498 (Sh65,000). I remember staring at it, thinking how that money could help with my bills. One day, we got a bonus that was supposed to mature in five days. Before that day came, our accounts were locked. Withdrawals stopped. Then the app disappeared.”
She did not report it, instead joining online support groups filled with other victims.
“At first, those groups were all hype. Then they became support spaces. People just saying, ‘We’ve been scammed. Let’s try to heal,’” she says.
Ms Nyokabi says she wiped out all her savings.
“Sh50,000 might not be a lot to some people, but to me, it was everything—my capital, my savings,” she says. “I’ve learned my lesson: only invest what you can afford to lose. Maybe when the bonuses started, I should have withdrawn my initial capital. But at the time, it looked like things were just getting better,” she says.
At first, it was exciting. The money was growing, and the app looked so legit... until it disappeared.
Enock Kirui: I was embarrassed
Enock Kirui, a supermarket cashier in Kikuyu, lost Sh50,000. His wife invested Sh20,000. His brother joined in, borrowing money from a bank to invest in CBEX.
“I had a friend who was already into CBEX. He kept talking about how easy it was to make money. He showed me the app, explained how it worked, and told me about the returns—how fast you could double your investment,” Mr Kirui recalls.
“So I thought, ‘Why not?’ It seemed like a good opportunity. I started with Sh50,000. My wife followed suit, investing Sh20,000, and later on, I brought in my younger brother, who invested Sh50,000, which he borrowed from a bank.”
At first, it was exciting. The money was growing, and the app looked so legit.
Mr Kirui’s money had grown to $790 (Sh102,000) in his CBEX account.
“My wife’s was $498 — about Sh64,482 by the time it collapsed. She’d put it in just weeks before the site went down,” he says.
“You start thinking you’re onto something big. Then the app disappeared from the Play Store. Withdrawals stopped. At first, I thought maybe it was a glitch or an update. People started complaining in the WhatsApp and Telegram groups we were all part of, but we kept telling ourselves, ‘it’s just a delay, they’ll fix it.’ But they never did.”
They tried to withdraw the money multiple times.
“My brother, my wife, and I—all of us couldn’t access our funds. Everyone was going crazy in the group chats,” he says.
For Mr Kirui, the hardest part is not just the financial loss. It is the shame.
“I didn’t tell my wife I had put in more than her. I was embarrassed. She found out when we both couldn’t withdraw. She is devastated,” he says.
“I had dreams. I thought the money from CBEX would help me start my own business, and maybe even invest in my children’s education. But now, all of that is gone. It feels like a nightmare. I don’t know where to go from here. I feel foolish, honestly. I’ve lost it all.”
To date, he has not reported the scam. “What’s the point? No one can trace them. We just talk in those WhatsApp groups and try to move on.”
Thrived in anonymity
CBEX thrived by staying invisible—avoiding advertising and operating through word-of-mouth referrals.
So how did CBEX operate in plain sight?
According to an investment banker who sought anonymity, CBEX thrived by staying invisible—avoiding advertising and operating through word-of-mouth referrals.
“If they were using billboards or media adverts, they’d have raised red flags too early,” he said. “It’s by design. Scams work best when they trigger the curiosity of the vulnerable, not the attention of regulators.”
He explains that CBEX was almost invisible in financial data streams until Business Daily broke the story. “Even in my finance circles, we hadn’t heard of them. That’s how stealthy they were. Before that, barely anyone was Googling them, just 10 or 20 searches a day across the entire country,” he said.
The platform offered quick, guaranteed returns—often a major red flag.
“Any platform promising 100 percent return in 40 days is not legitimate,” he warns. “Financial markets don’t work that way. These scams feed on greed, FOMO [fear of missing out], and low financial literacy.”
What is worse, he adds, is that such schemes remain legal grey zones until they crash.
“Until it collapses, you technically can’t call it a scam—it’s just ‘unregulated’. By the time regulators react, it’s too late.”
'Scams work best when they trigger the curiosity of the vulnerable, not the attention of regulators.'
Can such schemes be stopped?
He argues that the only way to prevent future scams is through grassroots financial education and early media exposure.
“Scams like CBEX exploit desperation. If we don’t reach people with awareness campaigns, especially in rural areas, we’re just waiting for the next one to strike,” he says.
When asked whether such scams may dent investor confidence, he hesitates. “I doubt it will have a big impact,” he says, contrasting it with other local high-profile cases. This, he says, is because CBEX was never licensed to operate in Kenya.
“CBEX was invisible to the regulator. They didn’t have permission to operate,” he emphasises. “So, when people lose money to such platforms, unfortunately, there’s no one to sue. No fall-back. It’s just a case of greed—and that’s the painful truth.”
