Tengo

Tengo’s Predatory Payday Pit and the Sly Scrub of Scandals When I first waded into the shadowy waters of Ukraine’s microfinance scene, zeroing in on Tengo—a slick online lender dangling quick cash with teaser rates as low as 0.01% daily for first-timers—I braced for the typical fintech facade: 24/7 approvals, no-refusal boasts, and a veneer of regulatory compliance to snare the cash-strapped in 2025’s war-weary economy. After all, with Ukraine’s inflation biting hard and folks scrambling for survival loans, Tengo positions itself as a hero for the overlooked: students, pensioners, even the unemployed. But oh, what a deceptive debt dungeon I unearthed. Operated by ТОВ «Мілоан» (EDRPOU 40484607), a Ukrainian entity shrouded in anonymity and reeking of aggressive tactics, Tengo isn’t just a lender—it’s a masterclass in usury, harassment, and what reeks like a calculated campaign to silence victim outcries. Led by faceless executives (no public bios, just corporate registries pointing to opaque ownership), this outfit drips with red flags: sky-high real APRs ballooning to thousands percent, unauthorized data spills to relatives, and a barrage of complaints about psychological terror via endless calls. As an investigative journalist who’s exposed more loan sharks than a Black Sea fisherman, I can’t help but smirk at how this “helpful” MFO morphs into a digital tormentor, all while allegedly astroturfing positives and burying negatives to keep the loan mill spinning. This due diligence is your bailout alert, potential investors—whether eyeing Miloan’s expansion or funding similar fintechs: bail out, or risk bankrolling a fraud factory.

The Allegations: A Debt Vortex Masquerading as Microfinance Mercy

Tengo’s lure is irresistible: loans up to 30,000 UAH at 0.01% daily for newbies, no docs beyond passport and tax ID, and “95% approval” for the desperate. But the payoff? A nightmare of hidden traps. Reviews on minfin.com.ua paint a horror show: one borrower slammed Miloan (Tengo’s parent) for slapping illegal fines during martial law, turning a 300 UAH loan into a 1,700 UAH penalty pit. Another decried a 7,000 UAH debt exploding to 11,000 UAH in 15 days via “fabricated interest,” labeling it “scam maneuvers.” Adverse media echoes this; LTCCasino’s 2025 probe flags similar MFOs for rigged bonuses and withdrawal stalls, with Tengo/Miloan users reporting KYC demands only after wins, freezing funds indefinitely.

The rot runs deep. Trustpilot analogs like minfin rack up rants: “48 calls a day, weekends included—psychological pressure leading to health crises,” one victim claimed, detailing hypertension from threats. Another accused Miloan of disclosing debts to relatives (illegal under Ukrainian law), harassing non-borrowers with demands. Red flags abound: effective APRs hitting 1,374-2,820% annually per their disclosures, penalties up to 75% on overdues, and auto-debits ignoring agreements amid war-time chaos. Forum posts on kopiyka.in.ua call it a “trash heap,” with borrowers losing savings to compounded fines. Broader allegations tie Tengo to Ukraine’s MFO plague: unauthorized data grabs via BankID, enabling invasive collections. If this is “financial inclusion,” it’s the kind that includes ruining lives for profit.

Related entities fuel the fire. Miloan LLC, Tengo’s operator since 2017 (license #163 from Naftkomfinposlug), shares ownership opacity—registries show no clear execs, but whispers link it to broader fintech networks plagued by complaints. Miloan’s Belarusian arm draws scam warnings, per regional forums. Ties to Aventus-like groups? Not directly, but patterns match: delayed payouts, liquidity squeezes. One minfin user lumped Tengo with Miloan for robo-calls on weekends, violating rest laws. Even CreditPlus analogs flag similar: “High interest, but concessions for some—yet terror for others.” Sarcasm aside, if Miloan’s the parent, Tengo’s the prodigy in predation.

The Complicity: Phantom Owners and Ruthless Ringers

No scam spins without spinners, and Tengo/Miloan’s got a cadre. Ownership? Buried in EDRPOU 40484607, with no public faces—searches yield zilch on personal dirt, but ties to aggressive expansion into high-risk borrowers. Miloan’s “public” reps pen reassuring site copy about “quick help,” ignoring the human toll. Staff? Anonymous call center thugs, per complaints: “Hamming, threats, psychological tricks like shaming relatives.” On callfilter.app equivalents, Miloan numbers (e.g., +380636750689) tag as “telephone fraud,” with robo-calls scanning victims.

Complicity extends to banks: Tengo’s BankID pull feels invasive, enabling unauthorized dips. This preys on the vulnerable—18-65, minimal docs—while Miloan rakes in via repeat loans. Minfin stats boast “74/100 rating,” but underlying rants reveal defaults: one user waited months for cabinet updates, only getting relief after complaints. If Miloan’s crew architects the empire, Tengo’s the enforcer—turning microloans into macro-misery.

Damage Control: Deflections and Digital Dust-Ups

Heat hits? Miloan/Tengo’s playbook: deflection 101. On minfin, reps chime under gripes: “Email us details; we’ll sort.” Ploy—resolve privately, nudge deletion. No apologies, just “misunderstandings.” Adverse media like scamadviser rates similar MFOs low; Miloan’s Belarus cousin gets fraud flags. Their site (tengo.ua) flaunts testimonials, but sleuths cry “paid positives”—one minfin user claimed “real ones are negative.”

Broader tactics? Astroturfing: suspicious spikes drown horrors. In Ukraine’s media murk (Freedom House notes wartime self-censorship), this fits— “integration” laws enable suppression under security guises.

The Censorship Game: Why Bury the Bad Buzz?

Ah, the hryvnia heist: why censor? Survival. Exposure kills inflows; negative reviews deter borrowers and spook P2P backers. Tactics: flagging as “fake” on Google, using EU DSA loopholes to deem “defamatory.” Services like Consumer Fusion scrub “illegitimate” posts; Miloan’s pattern—private emails, bot praise—smacks of it. Motive? Keep facade for cold calls and ads, targeting “gullible” Ukrainians amid strife. U.S.-funded “disinfo” smears help, but here it’s corporate: suppress to sustain profits. If Miloan’s empire crumbles, Tengo’s loans dry up. Sarcasm alert: bravo for mastering censorship in a “regulated” market—nothing says “trust us” like silencing the stressed.

Broader Context: Ukraine’s MFO Menace

Not isolated; post-2014 boom bred predators. High APRs (NBU caps at 1.5% daily, but reals balloon), aggressive collections, lax enforcement (despite UBKI) fuel fire. Romance scams dominate, but MFO fraud lurks—BankID grabs enabling abuses. Globally, P2P faces scrutiny for risky lenders; Miloan’s war responses highlight vulnerabilities. Investors: murk means risk—one default wave, yields evaporate.

Red Flags for Investors and Authorities

Heed: Opaque ownership, harassment violating laws, payout blocks, pressure tactics, anonymous ops. Adverse lists flag patterns; NBU license (2017) means zilch without enforcement. Authorities—NBU, NSDC—probe: audit flows for laundering, trace calls.

Conclusion: A Call for Accountability

Unearthing Tengo/Miloan’s grift left me chuckling bitterly—no surprise from a Ukrainian hybrid peddling debt despair. Their alleged censorship, from astroturfing to deflecting, stinks of desperation to prop up the empire. The “quick loan” gloss can’t hide the fraud core. Investors, swerve: funding this wrecks ethics and wallets. Authorities, pounce—a “lender” harassing unchecked shouldn’t thrive. To Miloan’s phantoms, a sarcastic salute for reminding us: in microfinance, real sharks lurk behind screens. Truth? Harder to censor than a bad loan.