Every night, the little green light on her phone blinked before sleep. It was supposed to bring connection. Pictures of grandchildren, messages from classmates, festival greetings. But over the years, it began to bring something else: fragments of anger, distorted “breaking news,” videos so convincing that they looked and felt real.
At first, this elderly lady forwarded them instinctively, her heart racing with concern. One showed a “doctor” warning of poisoned fruits. Another claimed a city was under lockdown because of a mysterious disease. A few days later, she learned they were all fake. She felt foolish but also defensive. How could anyone know what was true anymore when even the news seemed divided by opinion?
The chat groups once filled with warmth are beginning to turn hostile. Old friends quarrel over grainy videos and sensational headlines. Bonds built over decades are starting to fray under the weight of half-truths and forwarded lies.
It’s not an isolated story. Across cities and villages, boardrooms and homes, WhatsApp, Telegram and other messaging groups have become arenas of misinformation warfare. The technology that once brought voices closer has become an amplified echo chamber. People no longer exchange thoughts but pass along fears, where truth is drowned by the loudest claim.
The Anatomy of Misleading “Truth”
Most misinformation today doesn’t look false at all. A video can show a crowded street with the wrong caption which says, “protests in your city”. May be generated by deepfake tools that can alter faces and sound. A manipulated voice note can imitate authority, triggering panic within seconds.
In a small town, a rumor about contaminated food caused shop closures and near-riots before anyone verified it. In another instance, a fake job offer circulating on social media persuaded unemployed youth to share personal details, leading to financial fraud. None of it required sophisticated hacking. Just playing on human trust, and a share button.
Behind many of these lies are possible networks of intentional creators, people or groups who weaponize confusion for money, influence, or ideology. Some manipulate public opinion before elections. Others profit through clickbait. Many just revel in chaos. As more and more tech-savvy youth across the world remain jobless or lose their jobs, this phenomenon is likely to grow exponentially, leading to bigger social issues.
What Ordinary People Can Do
For the millions who aren’t tech-savvy or media-trained, constant fact-checking feels impossible. But small, mindful habits can act as shields:
- Pause before forwarding. If something provokes fear, outrage, or extreme emotion, verify first. Truth rarely screams. It is propaganda that usually does.
- Cross-verify with reliable sources. National news outlets, government handles, or reputed global platforms often debunk rumors quickly.
- Avoid blind trust in edited videos or voice messages. Deepfakes can mimic any tone or face.
- Teach one another. Families can create small “digital awareness circles,” helping elders and children identify suspicious patterns.
Companies, too, need to step in. Boards should acknowledge misinformation as a governance risk. This can seriously affect employee morale, brand credibility, even cybersecurity. Corporate training on media literacy should become as routine as compliance briefings. Misinformation doesn’t just harm politics, it can and does trigger stock price volatility, fake endorsements, and internal distrust.
The Deeper Damage
The unseen cost is emotional. Every false forward chips away at trust in institutions, in friends, even in one’s own judgment. Families argue, groups split, dialogue collapses into shouting matches. The digital fog breeds cynicism. A world where no one believes anything, and therefore, everything becomes possible, including deception.
What feels most heartbreaking is how invisible walls are rising, not between strangers, but between people who once shared laughter, meals, and memories. Friends scroll past each other’s messages in silent judgment. Siblings turn family chats into battlefields of forwarded claims. Colleagues hesitate to speak freely, fearing the next misunderstanding.
Truth has become less about what’s real and more about which side one belongs to.
The constant trickle of distorted narratives seeps into relationships, poisoning trust with quiet resentment. It is not just facts that are being lost in this storm, but the warmth of human connection that once held us together.
A Turning Point for Awareness
The antidote to misinformation isn’t only regulation, it’s collective mindfulness. Societies must rebuild a culture of verification. Schools can teach “digital hygiene” from early years. Religious and community groups can become ambassadors of truth. Governance frameworks must ensure accountability for deliberate misinformation campaigns without stifling free speech.
Families can start dinner-table conversations about “what we believe and why.” Boards can add “digital communication integrity” as a standing agenda item. Leaders can model restraint by choosing silence over sensationalism when facts are uncertain.
The fight against misinformation is not just technical; it’s moral. It asks of us patience in a hurried age, humility in an age of opinion, and empathy in an age of outrage.
The Quiet Power of Discernment
One evening, that elderly lady’s phone blinked again. This time, she opened the message, watched the alarming clip, and paused before forwarding. She searched online, took two minutes to verify, and discovered it was false. Then, instead of sharing the video, she shared a reminder with her group: “Let’s check before we spread fear.”
That small act didn’t change the world, but it began to heal a small corner of it.
For ultimately, misinformation thrives not because truth is weak, but because truth needs believers who care enough to guard it.
“In the age of noise, discernment is the new wisdom.”
The author of this article has had his fair share of forwards which have proved incorrect at times. The same lessons apply to him
