“For 25 years, I’ve had to prove I am who I am”
Losing your ID papers is something many people see as a simple administrative hassle. For José, this ordinary mishap marked the beginning of a real 25-year nightmare. His identity was used by a con man to work, take out loans, get married, have children, and even to commit kidnappings and rapes of women. José looks back on this ordeal and shares his experience to raise awareness of the risks of identity theft.
How it all began
How did it all begin?
In 1999, I left my bag on a train. It contained important documents: my ID card, my CV, and my birth certificate, which I needed for a job interview. At the time, I was mostly focused on that interview, then on filing a report for lost documents at the police station.
How did you discover that someone else was using your identity?
About a year and a half later, my wife was expecting our daughter. I went to the Family Allowance Fund (CAF) to register her. There, I was told I already had a CAF number, and it was impossible to have two. The clerk turned his screen toward me, and I saw my name, my Social Security number, but an address and a bank that weren’t mine. I understood that my identity had been stolen. I went straight to the police station to file a report, with all the information I had just obtained about my impersonator. The officer seemed to have everything needed to arrest him quickly. It lasted more than 25 years.
A case that drags on
At what point did you realize this would go on for a long time?
While renewing my ID card at the town hall, I saw a handwritten note on my birth certificate: “married in London.” The consequences were immediate: I could no longer get married myself, or buy property. My partner even thought I was leading a double life. In 2000, I wrote to the public prosecutor to report the identity theft. A lawyer helped me and discovered that my first police report had disappeared. After searches through the police station’s archives, it was found and the case moved forward again.
Did the identity theft continue during this time?
Yes, and I discovered it in stages. In 2005, I received a letter from the ANPE (employment agency) with an address: my impersonator was still working under my name. I went there, he no longer lived at that address. I learned much later that the person who opened the door for me had had children with him. On my lawyer’s advice, I also checked my career statement. There, I discovered jobs I had never held: building caretaker, security guard. I went to the company where my impersonator worked, showed my papers, and they were compared to his. The company didn’t understand what was going on, but had let him keep working without reporting anything to the authorities, probably out of fear. As a result, two people with the same name were working 40 hours a week and paying contributions separately, with no verification ever done.
How did this affect your own professional life?
Later, while I was working as a freelance sound engineer, a company detected a problem with my Social Security number. I went to URSSAF and discovered I simply no longer had one. I could no longer work legally. At the same time, I realized my impersonator was taking out consumer loans in my name. I voluntarily placed myself on a banking ban to stop him. I also discovered he wasn’t paying his taxes. For fifteen years, I stayed outside the system: banned from banking by choice, without a Social Security number.
The case takes a criminal turn
Was there a particularly serious moment, in 2009?
Yes. The GIGN (French special forces) showed up at my door one morning. I was taken into police custody, and over three days, I gradually found out what it was about: acts of kidnapping and rape against two women, actually committed by my impersonator, but weighing on me. It was the confrontation with the victims that proved I wasn’t the perpetrator. I was cleared.
What happened to your impersonator after that?
First hearing in 2009, where I saw him for the first time. He was sentenced to 15 years in prison for all the offenses. Ten years after my first complaint, I was finally recognized as a victim. I thought the case was closed. But even in prison, my impersonator kept existing administratively in my place: I kept receiving letters to pay his taxes, repay his loans, and pay child support for his children.
Doesn’t the story end there?
No. In 2014, while he was still in prison, my impersonator filed a complaint claiming to be the real victim of identity theft himself, and of a judicial error. The authorities believed him. He had entered prison under an unknown identity, since he had never given his real name. During his detention, that identity mysteriously turned into mine. He obtained a birth certificate from the town hall and was able to get an ID card issued in my name. By the time he was released, he had an ID card and a health insurance card in my name. My career statement even shows, for the same period, that he was in prison and that I was working at the same time: the same inconsistency, never noticed by anyone.
Where do things stand today?
My impersonator was released from prison in March 2021. A few months later, he was still using my name to pay for healthcare costs. By searching for him on social media, I eventually found out where he lives. I keep watch on him myself, since the justice system doesn’t. I learned he has six children who carry my name. Recently, I received a ruling informing me that his visitation rights with his daughter had been suspended: a ruling that concerns me, for a life that isn’t mine.
Living under suspicion
Do you feel you constantly have to prove you are who you are?
Exactly, and that’s probably one of the hardest parts to live with. I’m a victim, but I very often feel treated like a suspect, having to constantly demonstrate that I really am the person I claim to be. On top of that, there’s a feeling of powerlessness. You file a report, you provide all the requested documents, and despite that, the identity theft continues. The system always moves slower than the fraudsters.
What legal steps have you taken?
I filed a first police report as soon as I lost my papers in 1999, then a second one when I discovered the identity theft. Since that first report had disappeared, I wrote to the public prosecutor in 2000, with the help of a lawyer, to have it found and the case reopened. I then built a file with all the documents I gathered over time — my career statement, letters from the CAF, the ANPE, the URSSAF — and systematically sent them to the relevant organizations to get the identity theft officially recognized: Social Security, banks, employers. I also voluntarily placed myself on a banking ban to stop my impersonator from continuing to take out loans in my name. After 25 years, I want justice and reparation. With my lawyer, we are going to take action against the State and file a case with the European Court of Human Rights.
You’ve often expressed anger toward the justice system. Why?
My anger isn’t about a single event, it’s the accumulation. A police report that disappears from the station’s archives. A town hall that hands over my birth certificate to a man in prison, convicted for stealing my identity. A career statement showing, at the same time, that I was working and that my impersonator was incarcerated, without anyone finding that strange. An investigation that never once questioned any of my five brothers and sisters, even though they could have confirmed in two minutes that I had never lived in Ivory Coast, unlike what my impersonator claimed. At every stage, someone could have seen that something didn’t add up. No one did. After 25 years, I want justice and reparation.
The risk in the age of artificial intelligence
With the rise of generative artificial intelligence, do you think the risk of identity theft is greater today?
Yes, and just thinking about it worries me a lot. In my case, my impersonator managed to steal my identity with a lost ID card and a lot of time ahead of him — 25 years. Today, with AI, you can generate a fake document, a fake voice, a fake video in a matter of seconds. That’s why vigilance can no longer be just an individual matter: companies and administrations also need to equip themselves with tools to verify what they receive.
José’s advice
What advice would you give someone who loses their ID papers?
React immediately: report the loss or theft, keep all supporting documents, and watch closely for any unusual activity: a letter that shouldn’t be arriving, an unexplained administrative refusal. The faster you act, the more you limit the risks. This story has deeply upended my life. I would have preferred never to live through it, but if my testimony can help others be more vigilant, or avoid going through the same thing, then it will at least have served a purpose. That’s also why I’m working on a book, to tell these 25 years in full detail.
