Ticket scamming in St. James; two caught by police

When people talk about organised crime in Jamaica, you think guns, drugs, maybe a few shady land deals.
What you probably don’t picture is two well-dressed men strolling into a Montego Bay gaming lounge, waving fake tickets and trying to tun lunch money into lotto millions.
But welcome to the age of digital hustling, where even the duppy of Ol’ Time Scamma has upgraded to graphic design and ticket printing.
This week’s caper reads like a plot from a slow-budget crime comedy. Two men, clearly not fresh out of the bush, walked into a gaming spot in St James with what they hoped was a golden ticket. Instead, they got a front-row seat in the back of a police car.
When officers showed up and searched their vehicle, they didn’t just find a phone and a bad excuse. No man. They found a mobile ticket factory. Devices designed to mek farrin money look local, logos ripped from legitimate gaming businesses, and enough technical savvy to suggest this wasn’t their first rodeo.
Now let’s not act shocked. Jamaica has always had a knack for remixing opportunity. We invented dancehall, seasoned the patty, and turned a simple “likkle more” into a full lifestyle. But when creativity cross the line into criminality, we have a problem.
This particular scam isn’t just clever, it’s corrosive. Because it targets a sector that’s already under pressure. Gaming lounges might look flashy from the outside, but ask any operator and they’ll tell you they’re juggling high costs, tight margins, and now, fraudulent ticket artists with di whole a Photoshop pon dem laptop.
What’s fascinating here is how quietly the scam was running. Senior Superintendent Samuels called it a “multi-million-dollar” scheme. Not “was about to be.” Not “could have been.” This thing was up and running. Meaning multiple operators across multiple parishes were being milked daily while these gentlemen drove around printing money like they were central bank apprentices.
But the bigger question is this: how long have we allowed little trickery to become a way of life? We love to joke about “hustling” as if dishonesty is a rite of passage. We call scammers “entrepreneurs” and praise their cars without asking how they got them. And let’s be honest, if these men weren’t caught, somebody might have posted their success story online, talking about “building generational wealth” from nothing but determination and Wi-Fi.
The truth is, fraud in any form erodes trust. Whether it’s lotto scamming, fake tickets or inflating GCT receipts, it chips away at the honest man’s grind. It tells the next generation that brilliance is best used for shortcuts. That deception is just another strategy. That if you’re clever enough, you don’t need integrity.
So kudos to the St James police for catching these guys. But the work doesn’t end there. Business owners need to step up their surveillance. If you own a gaming lounge and don’t have proper cameras or verification systems in place, yuh a set up yuhself fi fail. And the rest of us need to stop giggling at criminal ingenuity like it’s a party trick.
There’s nothing smart about fraud. Just because it wears a button-up shirt and quotes Steve Jobs doesn’t mean it’s innovative. At the end of the day, this isn’t just a ticket scam. It’s a reflection of how easy it is to normalise dishonesty in a culture where hustle gets more praise than honesty.
So let’s keep the creativity, yes. But use it to build, not to betray. Because Jamaica too rich in talent to be depending on fake tickets and real jail time.