By Mark Heywood
In a world where Facebook wields more power than many governments, the social media giant has mastered the art of indifference.
We, the user’s of Facebook, are the company’s most valuable assets. Our data fuels its profits, our interactions drive its growth, and yet, when it comes to protecting the accounts of ordinary users—those who log in to connect with friends, share memories, and post about Parkruns —Facebook couldn’t care less. Your account gets hacked? Well, too bad. In Facebook’s universe, you’re just another faceless profile, easily suspended and rapidly dismissed.
I joined Facebook in 2008. Over the years, I've connected with hundreds of friends—both personal and political—shared countless photos, and posted stories that chronicle my life. My Facebook page is a treasure trove of invaluable information, documenting the many marches that I’ve been on, my hikes in the Drakensberg, my bike rides across the country, birthday wishes, first loves, new loves and lost loves, political gatherings, book recommendations, and thoughts on poetry. A digital diary of my life, over the last 16 years.
Well, that was until Tuesday, 15 August.
On that day, a friend - someone that I occasionally work with and trust - reached out via Facebook Messenger. He said he was having trouble installing Facebook on his new phone and needed me to send him a security code that would be sent to me on WhatsApp. Apparently, he needed a friend to verify his identity.
Seems legit, right? This was someone I knew, after all. So, in a moment of blind trust, I agreed and forwarded the code. Seconds later, Facebook security sent me an email alerting me to an "unusual login from a device or location you don't usually use" and asking, "Was this you?"
I replied, "No, it wasn’t." Following their prompts, I ensured logins were only allowed from my phone and laptop. I felt confident that I had narrowly avoided disaster, stopping a hacker from changing my password.
Meanwhile, the person I thought was my friend continued messaging on FaceBook Messenger, requesting another security code. When I hesitated, they asked, "Don't you trust me?" That’s when I knew something was seriously off. I stopped responding immediately and called my friend directly. His response? "It’s not me." His Facebook Messenger account had been hacked the day before.
Locked Out
The next day, when I tried to log into Facebook, I was greeted with the cheerful notification: “We’ve suspended your account.”
The message read: “Your Facebook account was suspended because your Instagram account ‘destiny09701’ doesn’t follow our rules.” They suggested I log in to my “linked Instagram account” to appeal their decision.
Minor hiccup: I’ve never had an Instagram account.
The official link on how to report a compromised account led nowhere but in endless circles. No phone numbers, no actual human beings to talk to. It’s almost as if they designed it that way—no recourse, no remedy.
So here I am, summarily erased from existence. I’ve disappeared without a trace. Some might even think I’ve died. The least they should be expected to do is return your personal property to you … a link to your now deactivated account.
But nothing.
That was two weeks ago. Since then, I’ve discovered that Meta—Facebook’s parent company—hides in plain sight. When it wants to, it can act with lightning speed to block your posts and ban your accounts. But when it comes to remedying its own wrong decisions, it’s as slow AF.
It’s a platform that can be used to incite both revolutions and atrocities, with minimal controls by those who create and maintain its algorithms, and even less concern from those who stand to profit from this platform.
And yes, I’m furious. Meta might be a private company, but it serves a public purpose: connection, debate, information-sharing. We don’t trust it, but we use it because in a digital era, one needs a digital presence.
Unlike other private companies, Facebook users seem to have no recourse when it messes up. Remember the good old days when companies had offices, phone numbers, and information officers you could complain to? Gone. All gone.
I did manage to get an email address for Meta’s comms person for sub-Saharan Africa. But he hasn’t answered two emails.
I’m not alone. As I’ve tried to find a solution, I’ve stumbled upon a small army of people in the same boat. My frustrating little saga, it turns out, is a common experience for hundreds of thousands. It’s why companies like Meta need regulation and consumer protection laws. They need to be brought down to earth!
Despite my lapse in judgement, Meta has a responsibility to protect its users from hacking. With all the resources at its disposal, the company should be doing more to keep accounts secure. People hack Facebook accounts for a variety of reasons—whether it's to steal personal information, spread scams, or blackmail. To combat this, Meta needs to take stronger steps, like improving security measures, offering better user education, and being quicker to respond when something goes wrong.
So, to avoid falling into the same trap that I did, knowing that Meta is not on your side, this is what the Campaign On Digital Ethics (CODE) advises to protect your Facebook account:
Never share security codes. Even if the request comes from a friend, double-check by calling or texting them directly.
Enable two-factor authentication (2FA). This adds an extra layer of security to your account.
Be suspicious of unexpected requests. If something feels off, it probably is.
Regularly update your passwords. Use strong, unique passwords and change them periodically.
Review your security settings. Make sure your account is as secure as possible, and regularly review who has access to it.
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