“It’s Your Own Fault”: Elderly Teachers Lose Apartment and Millions After Falling for Sophisticated Scam

Stories of elderly citizens being defrauded and left homeless have surfaced repeatedly this year. Orda.kz has previously reported on such victims — among them Professor Kaken Kamzin and Honored Architect Yelena Shchedrina.

Now, another victim has come forward: former teacher Razya Kanagatova, who says she and her husband lost their apartment and life savings after falling for an elaborate fraud. Even worse, they were unknowingly drawn into deceiving other victims — while authorities, they claim, remain indifferent.

Razya Kanagatova and her husband, Nur-Mukhammed Kanagat, are both retired educators. Razya taught at School No. 131, while her husband worked in the Almaty Regional Education Department and later served as principal at several schools in the city’s Medeu District. After retirement, he continued teaching mathematics at School No. 12 in Almaty.

The couple had lived quietly in their apartment on Al-Farabi Avenue since purchasing it in 1998 — until the spring of 2025. That’s when Razya received a phone call that changed their lives.

 “We’re Updating Your Meters”

At the end of March, a man called me. He said he was from Energosbyt, asked for my meter details, and said pensioners were being added to a list for free meter replacements,” Razya recalls.
“Our gas and water meters had just been replaced, so I thought they were replacing the electricity ones too. He asked for my IIN and the code from 1414 — and I gave it to him, without a second thought. The moment I hung up, I thought, ‘Why did I do that?’

I called my husband, and we decided to report it to the police. The local officer came and asked: ‘Apay, did you lose money? Did you transfer anything?’ I said no. He said, ‘Then everything’s fine. Just don’t answer calls from strangers.’ And he left.

But soon after, Razya received a text message from 1414: “Your account has been hacked.”

Then came another call — this time from a man who introduced himself as Dimash Alikhanovich from eGov (Government for Citizens). He said:

Your account has been hacked — and it’s your own fault. File a report so we can start an investigation. These are scammers, and we need to catch them immediately. Write a statement, sign it and send it to me.

He instructed her to write a report taking full blame for the incident and warned her not to speak to anyone, except to someone who would identify himself with a designated number.

 A few days later, Razya received another call.

A man introduced himself as Damir, a manager at the National Bank. He said they were conducting an internal investigation too. I told him I had blocked my cards, but he said, ‘No, unblock them — we need to see the full picture.

He told me to go to the bank — but not to go inside right away, to listen to his instructions. He said, ‘We have everything under control, but there might still be scammers around.’

When they refused to give me one, he said, ‘They didn’t? Okay, go home.’

She said that after the scammers failed to get access to her cards and loans, the man told her, “But you have an apartment, don’t you?” She replied that the apartment wasn’t hers, it was in her husband’s name. Then the man claimed that someone had entered her husband’s account through her personal cabinet and was now trying to sell their apartment. That’s when, she recalled, they both nearly had a heart attack.

Soon after, another man — Andrey Zharov — called, claiming to be a financial lawyer from the National Bank, working with “Damir.” He said:

'You need to sell your apartment and change the cadastral number.’ And we believed him.

I said I couldn’t — I had to tell my son first. And Andrey got angry: ‘Don’t call anyone! You’ll ruin everything. Your apartment will be sold. Don’t tell anyone — not even your neighbors.’ And we listened…

Razya said that later, a man who introduced himself as Yerzhan appeared. He claimed to be from state security and even provided an address — Astana, Sagynak Street 66 (which is actually the address of the National Security Committee’s main office – Ed.).

Believing he was genuine, they trusted him — and later he put their apartment up for sale. Not on the usual real estate site Krysha, but on OLX.

He asked for photos of the apartment, and I sent them. Then he said, ‘Just give us the code, and we’ll do everything for you.’ They did it all in just one day.

The scammers listed a three-room apartment on Al-Farabi Avenue for 22 million tenge — far below market value.

I asked why it was so cheap. They told me, ‘It’ll be easier to sell. The National Bank will buy it back, and you’ll get all your money later.’ So I agreed.

The next day, a buyer arrived.

The first buyer asked why I was selling so cheaply. I said we needed to hurry. He asked whether our children knew — I said no. He said, ‘Apay, even if I’m buying, your children should be here.’

Razya informed “Yerzhan” about the buyer’s questions and said she wanted to call her son — but the man told her not to, insisting she wait for another buyer.

Soon, a woman named Olga Guryanova (name changed) arrived — and she became the buyer.

She also asked why it was so cheap, and I said my husband wanted to move to the countryside and build a house. She agreed to buy. After she left, ‘Yerzhan’ called again and told me to ask for a deposit. We agreed on 50,000. I told her I wouldn’t deal with notaries and that she should find one herself.

Razya said that the first notary they went to also mentioned that their children needed to be present, but the second one had no questions. It turned out there was some kind of encumbrance on their apartment that they hadn’t known about — apparently, there had been a dollar loan in her name, though her husband had somehow repaid it.

They didn’t pay much attention to it, and the notary said that a bank statement would be sufficient.

Later, it emerged that the documents they were notarizing listed a one-room apartment instead of a three-room one. When she asked why, the notary brushed it off as a typo.

She also recalled that in some documents her husband’s name was written in Kazakh and in others in Russian. But the notary assured them it was nothing serious, saying that some presidential decree had supposedly made the Kazakh and Russian spellings equivalent.

On April 12, we sold the apartment. We counted the money, gave a receipt, and parted honorably. I planned to deposit the money in the bank, but it was Saturday, and the banks were closed.

He asked if we had sold the apartment. I said yes, and that we had received the money. He said someone would be coming soon and that the money should be handed over through him. My husband was completely against it, but they insisted that they would provide documents from the National Bank and return the money later. They demanded that I persuade my husband. “Yerzhan” kept insisting: “You can’t keep that kind of money at home!”

They got a piece of paper on National Bank letterhead.

 
A taxi driver soon arrived — and the couple handed over 22 million tenge to him, a courier (money mule).

Although we’re still living in it, a criminal case has been opened, an investigation is underway, and the property is under an encumbrance,
 Razya says.

The scammers even took advantage of them. While the sales contract was being finalized, this ‘Andrey’ called and said:

You know, other people are also in trouble and need help. There’s a supermarket near you with a payment terminal — please transfer money through it.

Razya said she thought that since others were in trouble, they should help, so when the money was brought to them, they spent half a day sending 500,000, 350,000, and 140,000 through the terminal.

But we kept the receipts — with the card numbers and phone numbers we sent the money to. They told us to photograph every receipt. When we filed a complaint with the Bostandyk District Police Department, we handed over all those numbers. The officers even called them — and they answered! These were real people. They received the money, even if they later passed it on. If someone had told me to deliver the money like that in Almaty, I’d have been the one at fault. We wrote to the investigator so many times — asking them to check at least one or two of those people. Maybe they could find someone. But nothing happened.

In July, the deputy chief called us and said they’d check the numbers through a SIM box. It’s been three months, and they still say there are no leads. But so many people have talked to me, so many couriers have come!

The Civil Case

I thought maybe we could find the 22 million tenge to give back to Guryanova and get our apartment returned. She agreed to wait, but time kept passing. Then we filed a civil lawsuit to invalidate the sale — and we lost. We only later learned where Guryanova got the money for the purchase. She said she sold her parents’ house and deposited the funds on February 22 — we even joked that it was my birthday. But no one wants to verify whether her parents actually had property or if they live with her brother, as she claims. 

We’ll still have to return the 22 million, whether we win or lose the civil case. It’s not a criminal proceeding. Our lawyer never explained that. We thought if the deal was invalidated, we wouldn’t have to return the money. Otherwise, maybe we wouldn’t have filed it at all.

Razya said that over the past few months, she had made four appointments to see the head of the investigative department, but they had never let her in.

Only Byrzhan, the deputy, would come out, laughing and asking whether she really wanted them to call Guryanova to evict her. It was meant as a joke, she added, but there was some truth in it.

They assured me that as long as the encumbrance from the criminal case is in place, I won’t be evicted — and if anyone tries, I should reach out to them.

Then came another call.

The day before yesterday, someone named ‘Timur Aleksandrovich’ called me again. I told him right away to get lost.

Original Author: Igor Ulitin