This is the story of an investor who does not want to be identified, as told to Rappler. This is based solely on the individual investor’s personal experience in connection with cases being investigated by the government and widely reported in the media.

This article is not a substitute for legal advice from a licensed lawyer. 

Everyone told me that I would never get my entire investment back and should just settle for whatever I could get. They were just being realistic. By then, multiple news reports had detailed allegations that the MFT Group of Companies, a private equity firm established by Maria Francesca “Mica” Tan in 2014, had operated a Ponzi-like scheme, sold unregistered securities, and was facing syndicated estafa charges in court.

I was going to be one in a long list of disgruntled investors waiting and hoping to get paid. 

When the checks from MFT started bouncing, there were explanations and apologies. Zoom calls immediately followed. Promises were made and formalized in payment schedules computed in spreadsheets. There were reassurances that while their 138 bank accounts and other assets had been frozen, payments would resume once court issues were resolved.

And there was trust.

I had invested money in what I was made to believe was a medical equipment company supplying diagnostic machines to government hospitals and clinics. I did not discover the opportunity through a cold pitch or an online ad. I invested because a friend of more than two decades endorsed it. She told me she had invested her own money into the company, and presented it as a non-traditional lending arrangement open only to family and close friends.

She told me MFT sometimes used “non-traditional lending” to bridge short-term funding gaps when acquiring equipment for large government contracts. Banks, she explained, could not move fast enough to approve a loan and release the money. Individuals who were called angel investors filled the gap and were paid 10% interest on a semi-annual basis. At the end of the two-year lockout period, we would get our money back

I believed her. 

Willingness to pay, a legal strategy

At first, there were structured repayment proposals. There were revised schedules. There were explanations tied to frozen assets and ongoing cases. There were even installment payments that were small enough to prolong hope but large enough to delay escalation.

My lawyer explained to me that willingness to pay can either be a sincere intention to honor a debt or a strategy to defer payment and avoid legal liability.

“Asserting willingness to pay is a common approach of debtors when their liabilities remain unpaid beyond their due dates. It can become a debtors’ strategy to convince the investors or creditors to extend the payment period or restructure the debts by claiming that they have all the intention to settle in full but that some external factor does not allow them do so,” my lawyer said.

I found out that many other MFT investors had been gathered in Zoom calls with Mica and other directors to talk about debt-restructuring options. 

“Willingness to pay can be a sign of ‘good faith,’ which is a common defense in fraud and has indeed been upheld by courts in some cases. Good faith, if true and proved, can generally negate the alleged malice or criminal intent in fraud and other crimes of deceit under the Philippines’ Revised Penal Code,” my lawyer further explained.

“This is said to be based on the long-standing doctrine: ‘No crime is committed if the mind of the person performing the act complained of is innocent.’ However, mere words of willingness to pay will not hold water as a sign of ‘good faith’ if there is no actual exertion of sincere and best efforts to settle debts or return entrusted funds,” my lawyer added.

In my case, that “willingness to pay” was said too often enough like a broken record that it no longer resembled any sign of good faith for me. 

By the time my payments stopped, criminal complaints had been filed. Arrest warrants were issued against several members of the Tan family and their associates in connection with allegations of syndicated estafa and the illegal sale of securities, according to reported court records and the Securities and Exchange Commission.

The Securities and Exchange Commission had earlier moved against the group, and authorities had reported about 138 bank accounts tied to the company and its officers.

Still, many investors held back from filing individual complaints. I was one of them. I hoped to recover my money quietly. I wanted to avoid a lengthy and expensive litigation process. I was emotionally paralyzed by my refusal to believe that I had been betrayed.

Looking back, this bought me time for proper documentation. Every revised schedule acknowledged the debt. Every message promising repayment confirmed an obligation.

Contracts, bounced checks, and screenshots of conversations would become the backbone of my case. This is how I got paid enough to recover my initial investment plus interest and a reimbursement of my legal fees. This is how I did it. 

1. Construct a timeline. 

The turning point came when I stopped asking, “When will you pay me?” and started asking, “How do I document that they owe me money?”

Some people are overwhelmed by the idea of compiling evidence. Break it down by structuring your evidence around a series of events. Key events include: when you invested, when money was received, when contracts were signed, when payments were made, and when they stopped.

I built a timeline supported by evidence and compiled:

• Contracts
• Proof of transfer of funds: how much was paid and when
• Acknowledgments of receipt: proof that the money had been received
• Bank statements showing that I had transferred the money from my account to MFT
• Bounced checks: the original check and a confirmation from my bank that the check had been dishonored
• Screenshots of every promise to repay
• Copies of proposed payment schedules

2. Involve law enforcement early on.

With the documentation assembled, I consulted a lawyer and then walked into the Anti-Fraud and Commercial Crimes Unit (AFCCU) under the Criminal Investigation and Detection Group (CIDG) at the Philippine National Police headquarters in Camp Crame.

The AFCCU handles complaints involving fraud and commercial crimes. While it does not independently issue subpoenas, its involvement signals escalation. They can initiate a formal investigative process once a complaint has been filed.

Parallel to that, my lawyer prepared a formal demand letter. The CIDG provided sample templates; my lawyer strengthened the language and added a critical clause about the reimbursement of legal fees.

Law enforcement involvement changes the dynamics of negotiation. It converts informal pleading into possible filing of criminal proceedings that could result in arrest or, specifically in the case of MFT, the enforcement of any outstanding arrest warrants on MFT key directors and officers. 

3. Get a sign-off on a legally enforceable promissory note.

Several key figures in MFT are reportedly outside the country, allegedly evading arrest. 

Rather than chase individuals beyond jurisdiction, my lawyer advised focusing first on the persons directly involved in my transaction and physically present in the Philippines. That was the friend who had facilitated my investment.

After sending out the two demand letters required by law to the MFT officials and my friend, the CIDG-AFCCU sent her an invitation to come to headquarters. It was an attempt at mediation to settle.  

Promissory notes were drafted, dividing the obligation into installments but clearly specifying total liability.

In my case, the signed promissory notes transformed the disputed matter into a simpler and concrete legal obligation enforceable in court.

Two days after a meeting at the CIDG-AFCCU, I was told that I would be paid in full, meaning principal, agreed interest, and reimbursement of legal fees. On the third day, a manager’s check was handed over at my bank. 

The speed of the settlement raised uncomfortable questions. If payment was possible within 48 hours under formal pressure, why had it taken nearly two years of promises? 

One news report alleges that Mica has since returned to the Philippines. 

4. Weigh your emotional readiness.

During one of our early meetings, my lawyer asked me a question I did not expect: “Are you emotionally ready?”

We did not have to go through court litigation, but the process is nevertheless confrontational.

The person I was preparing to take action against was someone I had known for more than two decades. We had always met as friends, but on that day, in the presence of our lawyers and law enforcers, it was clear that we were adversaries.

It was because of our friendship and the trust that it was built on that I dismissed what should have been mandatory steps of verification. Friendship had replaced due diligence. Familiarity had replaced skepticism.

The potential financial loss was painful, but the betrayal was destabilizing.

What made me decide to move forward was the realization that silence benefits only the debtor. My shame at being deceived, my effort to save the friendship, were tools to silence me, to keep me from escalating my demands. 

I am aware that not every investor will have the same outcome as mine, but I know what gave my case a fighting chance. It did not require extraordinary legal maneuvering. It required the structure of a timeline and was backed with evidence. And the emotional readiness to take legal action against someone I had once trusted. – Rappler.com