2025 is here. As we celebrated the year that was, a gentleman in Africa gave me a Meta Wrapped. No, not Spotify or YouTube. It was way more personal, and boy, did he deliver.
On 27th Dec 2024, my Meta account was hacked by— let’s call him Aaron. He deleted my Instagram account from my Meta Centre and added it to his Meta Horizon account. In doing so, he was able to ensure that I was locked out of my Instagram while he decided to curate my feed with his own photos. Aaron then began sending links to my followers, posing as me and asking them to vote for me in a supposed cooking contest hosted by the Food Network. Alarmed by this, some friends contacted me via calls and messages to confirm if it was me and simultaneously reported my account as hacked to Instagram.
The Hat to Hack Saga
To delve into the significance of what happened next, I would like to spell out the nature of my journey and, by extension, the way I used social media.
Back in 2009, like almost everyone else, I joined Facebook. It was an unusual method to connect with our friend circle by taking more photos and propping them with cowboy hat filters. We all jumped on the cool hat bandwagon, thinking it would make us tick. But I’ve always wondered how trying so hard to look cool can make anyone cool.
Adding friends through an algorithm always felt strange to me, like flipping through the Yellow Pages to pick your “friends.” Harvard might want to explore how that works, but in the real world, meaningful relationships require time, shared experiences, and consistency. Facebook was more like handing out free tickets to your concert. Did that make everyone your friend? Of course not—it just gave them access to a piece of your life for a while.
My personality probably played a part in how I saw it all. I don’t walk into rooms like Leo from The Wolf of Wall Street; I’m more Leo from Shutter Island—suspicious and resilient. I played along on Facebook for a while, knowing it wasn’t quite my thing. I knew I was about to fall flat in my face, only with the added embarrassment of not properly spelling anything for all those years.
Just like that, we made Mark the richest robot on Earth and we quietly left Facebook with inflated opinions and a birthday calendar.
Then came Instagram, a platform that brought millennials a dose of Polaroid nostalgia. When I got on, no products and services were being sold, National Geographic-level drone work, or what I now call a free subscription to a place where everyone is a life coach. It was just take a photo and put it up. Simple. Not too different from the photo albums at home. So very early on, I used it as a way to store memories— quite literally anything that caught my eye. I seldom put my photos and used it as a way to curate a collection of special moments that was not just a whole camera roll. And this I did for 12 years, curating my corner of the internet with no real interest in sharing. In my head, to date, it was an extension of my photos app.
As years passed, Mark got poorer by 50 bucks; as you remember, we all abandoned him, so he bought Instagram.
At this point, it was evident that Instagram had transformed into a beta testing ground for Mark to steal ideas from competitors, conduct experiments, and swiftly implement numerous features. It encompassed clickbait content, discount codes, and a significant portion of the world recording from their bathrooms or the Eiffel Tower, all condensed into less than 30 seconds as a video, a link, a photo, or now, a thread.
The only similarity I can bring from life to compare this experience is an Indian mela (fair). The ones we used to visit as a kid - random people sitting in funny gear claiming to see your future; there are fast rides that will end with someone dazed and there are shopping stalls where everything is seemingly cheaper for no apparent reason. Like at those fairs, I avoided the noise and stuck to using Instagram in my own way.
Towards the last few years, I used to incorporate content that made me laugh or learn something new. I intentionally gathered this information and shared it with my friends. Sometimes, a recipe finds its way here, accompanied by a poem, a life hack, or even just a nostalgic snippet from our millennial era. The purpose was to provide a respite from stress.
Amidst all this Facebook, Instagram, and whatever else Mark wanted a monopoly over were all incorporated into Meta. I understand - it’s as cool as it is a vague name.
The Meta Mess
On December 27, two things happened: Aaron hacked my Instagram, and Meta, a multimillion-dollar organization, showed me just how hollow it is. Meta’s security measures? A joke. There is exactly half a web page that tells you what you should do if someone hacks any of your accounts. Links are all broken or worse, continually loop back to this same page. There’s no contact number, no live support—just you and a void.
The mistake I made was not enabling two-factor authentication on my Meta Accounts Centre. To add to this hoopla, the Meta Quest headset offers users a Meta Centre which can add any Facebook/Instagram account the user can get a hold of. I didn’t realize that Meta’s interconnected ecosystem meant Aaron could access all my linked accounts—WhatsApp, Facebook, Quest Horizon and Instagram. It was like Meta was hanging up a neon “Welcome” sign to hackers just for me.
I can’t deny that Aaron’s intervention left me with plenty to reflect on. I have learnt that my true world is shared only by a total of 6 people who are on speed dial. I’ve discovered that if my sole objective is to capture people’s attention, then I’ll only achieve a fleeting and distorted sense of satisfaction. I have learnt that my brain is dangerously conditioned for quick wins. I have learnt that on the day that a hacker used my account, I sat there feeling as violated as I would if someone entered my home. The most unsettling realization? When Aaron pretended to be me, so few people could tell the difference.
TLDR
As this curious tale wraps up, let me address the one question that never came up during the 20 calls I fielded after the hacking incident: What can I do to secure myself online? If there’s one takeaway from my experience, it’s this: online security is non-negotiable. Here are three practical steps to safeguard your digital presence:
1. Secure Your Meta Account Center: To protect your Meta account, activate two-factor authentication (2FA) with an Authenticator app and add other safeguards like backup codes. Yes, phone and email are a way too, but these have plenty of loose ends. Given the prevalence of data breaches, this step is essential.
2. Separate Email Accounts: Avoid linking social media accounts, including LinkedIn, to email addresses associated with banking or sensitive information. While not foolproof, this reduces the risk of financial theft.
3. Stay Informed: New hacking techniques like the one I encountered are emerging rapidly. Stay updated through news or community forums to learn about potential threats and preventative measures.
I’m not here to repeat the corporate cybersecurity training you already know by heart. Instead, I hope my experience serves as a reminder to take these precautions seriously.
As I reflect on the last 12 days—and the last 12 years—I’m still unsure how much of it was worth it. Social media, for all its promise of connection, often leaves us emotionally immobilized, chasing moments that barely register in someone else’s life. So here’s my unsolicited advice: secure your accounts, stay authentic, and remember that the most meaningful connections happen offline.
For any questions (or just to commiserate about Aaron), feel free to reach out.
Just for Laughs
Try downloading the Facebook Messenger app, and within just a few taps, you’ll encounter a pop-up suggesting ‘People you may know’—a sprawling list of about 200 individuals with a cheerful ‘Add All’ button at the bottom. Because, of course, who doesn’t need 200 new “friends” in one click? If you think this reflects some brilliant algorithm at work, let me assure you, that joining a random dance class might yield better odds of meaningful connections.
Here’s the unsettling part: click on the information icon, and you’ll discover that hitting ‘Add All’ instantly makes these 200 people your “friends,” sparing you the bother of sending or receiving requests. How thoughtful! It’s almost as if Meta has prepared a heartfelt gesture just for you. I, for one, feel compelled to deliver a speech to thank them for their overwhelming concern for my social life. It’s truly touching—positively brimming with negative emotions, of course.
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