Social media is often dismissed as trivial – likes, comments, scrolling distractions. But for millions of Americans, it is infrastructure. It is how we work, how we communicate, how we serve our communities, and how we earn a living. When that infrastructure fails, the damage is not virtual. It is deeply human.

For the past 10 months, I have lived inside a nightmare created not just by criminals who hacked my digital life, but by a corporation that refused repeatedly – to believe me, protect me, or help me recover. This is the cost of being hacked in the age of Big Tech. And this is what happens when a platform like Meta Platforms, Inc. builds systems so vast and so automated that the people inside them disappear.

A coordinated digital attack – and a system that looked away

In a coordinated attack, my Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp, Telegram, Yahoo and Gmail accounts were compromised. I ultimately recovered everything except Meta Platforms – ironically, the very company whose services were central to my professional and public life.

I did everything a responsible user is told to do. I opened formal complaints. I documented security alerts. I preserved evidence. I escalated through every available channel. In December, during a phone call with a Meta employee, I was told plainly that my account had been compromised. I was assured my case had been sent to the correct department and would be handled.

Shortly after, I received an email requesting my identification and documentation. I complied immediately – submitting my driver’s licence and extensive proof. Then I followed up. And followed up again. In total, I sent 24 emails responding to Meta’s request, seeking confirmation, seeking progress, seeking help.

No one ever responded.

More than 30 days later – after silence, after delays, after false reassurance – I received a computer-generated message stating that my case was closed. No explanation. No resolution. No recovery. Just closed.

The absurdity of proving you are yourself

Since that moment, I have attempted to rebuild. I have opened three new Facebook accounts. Each one has been dismantled. Each one has been rejected for “impersonation.”

Let that sink in: I am being told that I am impersonating myself.

Meanwhile, when I was an established creator, hundreds of fake accounts were allowed to exist in my name. One so-called “fan account,” copied directly from my profile, amassed over 100,000 followers. Meta allowed it to thrive. They allowed criminals to profit. They allowed deception to scale.

Today, a criminal operating out of Nigeria – according to security alerts I provided to Meta – continues to use my name and brand. I have submitted proof showing Nigerian access to my accounts. I have submitted alerts confirming unauthorized logins. I have reported extortion attempts. I have documented how, after I recovered WhatsApp, the hacker attempted to extort me for money to “return” my account.

I paid at first, out of desperation. Then the demands escalated. More money. More threats. My phone number was passed around. I received calls offering to buy my profile. Google later alerted me that my information had appeared on the dark web.

This is not inconvenience. This is danger.

The real-world consequences of digital negligence

Meta’s inaction did not just erase profiles. It erased livelihoods.

My primary business, US Doors Direct – a construction company – operated heavily through Facebook Marketplace. I lost a profile that held 17 years of customers, repeat business and message histories. That loss translated directly into lost revenue. Real employees. Real families. Real consequences.

My boutique business page was stolen, cutting off advertising and income. My foundation page, built during my congressional run, was taken. My congressional page itself – containing sensitive communications, donor interactions, and years of organizing – was compromised. A foreign criminal now has access to data connected to a US congressional campaign.

I was verified when verification actually meant something. I was a paying verified subscriber. I followed the rules. I invested obscene amounts of time and money into my brand. I worked 18-hour days creating live content, reels, posts and campaigns. My SEO – built over years and tied heavily to Meta’s ecosystem – is now collapsing.

Meta could see it all. They could see that I stopped going live. That content vanished overnight. That an active creator went silent. Yet no one intervened.

Gaslit by automation

Over the past ten months, Meta has held video calls with me. Representatives have seen me on camera. They have acknowledged my identity. They have admitted – more than once – that my account was compromised.

And still, nothing.

On my most recent call, after admitting the breach, a Meta representative had the audacity to ask for my silence. “These conversations are private,” I was told.

That sentence haunts me.

When a corporation asks a victim to be quiet instead of making things right, something is profoundly broken.

Mental, physical and spiritual collapse

The toll of this experience cannot be measured in lost followers alone.

Mentally, it has been exhausting. The constant fight to be believed. The humiliation of watching criminals impersonate you publicly while you are locked out of your own identity. The anxiety of unanswered emails and closed cases. The rage of knowing the truth and being dismissed by algorithms.

Physically, the stress has been debilitating – especially while managing serious health conditions. Sleep disruption. Elevated stress. The body keeps score and mine has paid dearly.

Spiritually, it has been devastating. My work has always been rooted in service – community, philanthropy, faith-based organisations. I have received calls from churches, friends and relatives confused, concerned, and alarmed. People believed they were in relationships with “me.” Friends were scammed for money in my name. The embarrassment is profound. The violation cuts deep.

This is what dehumanization looks like in the digital age.

A system designed without accountability

Meta Platforms has built an empire on human connection while stripping humans out of the recovery process. Help articles are not help. Bots are not justice. Automation without accountability is negligence.

There is no meaningful path to recovery for victims of sophisticated account takeovers. No escalation. No case ownership. No responsibility. Just a maze designed to exhaust people until they give up.

I did not give up. And I will not.

Why this matters beyond me

This is not just my story. It is a warning.

If a verified creator, business owner, former congressional candidate – someone with documentation, visibility and persistence – can be erased and ignored, what happens to everyday users?

What happens when small business owners lose their only marketing channel? When non-profits lose donor trust? When activists lose organizing tools? When victims are told that a closed case is the end of the conversation?

Social media is no longer optional infrastructure. It is commerce. It is democracy. It is identity.

With that power comes responsibility. And Meta is failing it.

A Call for Accountability

I am not asking for sympathy. I am demanding accountability.

I want my identity restored. My platforms returned. My businesses made whole. And I want Meta Platforms to acknowledge – publicly – that their systems failed and that real people suffered as a result.

Silence is not acceptable. Automation is not an excuse. And asking victims to be quiet is not resolution.

I built my life, my brand and my businesses with integrity, transparency, and relentless work. Watching it be dismantled – day by day – by criminals enabled through corporate indifference has been devastating.

But I am still here. And I am speaking.

Because the greatest cost of being hacked was not the loss of accounts – it was the moment a corporation decided I no longer mattered as a human being.

• A Tell Media report / By Alycia Barnard