Let me introduce you to a tenant we’ll call Mr. Kroli. And no, he wasn’t another real estate agent—he was a tenant. This incident took place during the Movement Control Order (MCO) period, right in the middle of the chaos brought on by the COVID-19 pandemic.
I secured Mr. Kroli for a double-storey house located in a prime, strategic area. The property belonged to someone I had known for years—someone I now consider a friend. That made things even more personal.
First Impressions Can Be Deceiving
In the beginning, Mr. Kroli came across as polite, pleasant, and genuinely kind when he expressed interest in renting the house. As a rule, I am extremely careful when screening tenants I don’t want any future headaches, especially not on a friend’s property. Any issue caused by a tenant can easily strain the agent – owner relationship, and I wanted to avoid that at all costs. At the time, I spotted absolutely no red flags. Mr. Kroli was convincing, articulate, and assured both me and the owner that he would be an ideal tenant who would respect all house rules and regulations. Confident in his sincerity, we proceeded to sign the tenancy agreement.
The First Signs of Trouble
Barely a week after he moved in, we received our first distress call. An electrical trip occurred in the house—on a weekend, no less. I remember receiving a late-night call from the owner, clearly worried. It was so severe that the TNB electricians had to be called in, and they spent almost the entire night diagnosing and fixing the root cause of the issue. That should have been our first warning, but we brushed it off as bad luck.
Then, two months into the tenancy, the owner sent me a text that sent a chill down my spine: the rental cheque had bounced.
The Disappearing Act
I tried every possible way to contact Mr. Kroli. Calls went unanswered. Messages were ignored. And that’s when I began to see his true nature. At one point, I even drove to his office. When I arrived, I knocked on the door and pressed the bell – no response. I waited outside for a full hour and a half. I could hear staff members moving and talking inside, yet no one opened the door. Did I feel insulted? Honestly, no. This is part of the job, and I knew I had to face these challenges head on. Eventually, I left empty-handed and frustrated.
I tried other methods after that. All failed. I even went to the rented house multiple times, but the gate was always locked. I vividly remember visiting the property several times, including right after a festive holiday—straight from my outstation trip only to be met with the same locked gate and silence. Nothing worked.
A Divine Breakthrough
And then, I pivoted. I managed to track down the director of the company Mr. Kroli worked for, and I even obtained the director’s direct contact number. I said a silent prayer of thanks and God had shown me the way, once again. I sent the director a brief, respectful message explaining the situation and pleading for his attention. He didn’t reply directly, but not long after, I received a message from Mr. Kroli himself. That was progress a small crack in the wall of silence.
Mr. Kroli confirmed that he would move out and hand over the keys on an agreed date. Now, here’s the catch: he had made a pact with the owner that if he moved out before a certain deadline, the owner would refund his deposit. If he missed that date, he would forfeit it entirely.
The Dramatic Handover Day
The scheduled day arrived. Mr. Kroli had missed the deadline. When the owner informed him over the phone that there would be no refund, everything unravelled.
I was at the property, waiting to collect the keys and update the owner on the handover progress. After Mr. Kroli hung up the call, he turned, grabbed the keys back from the table, and stormed out of the house without a single word to me. He left me standing alone inside the premise, with the door wide open and no one to lock it behind him. The owner hadn’t come for the handover; I was the one assigned to handle it all.
At that moment, tension was at its peak, and I was completely stressed. I managed to record a short video of Mr. Kroli driving out of the compound. I sent that footage to his director, explained what had just happened, and pleaded for help once more.
The Police Report Ultimatum
By then, Mr. Kroli had vanished no calls, no messages, no keys. The owner arrived shortly after, and I informed the director that if the keys were not returned by that evening, we would proceed to make an official police report. Mr. Kroli remained silent.
So, the owner and I drove to the nearest police station. We were literally in the middle of typing out our statements when my phone buzzed. It was an image a photo of the keys placed back at the house door, sent by another senior management personnel from Mr. Kroli’s company. They urgently requested that we not proceed with the police report. Since the keys had been returned and we didn’t want to drag the matter further, we agreed to drop the case.
The Aftermath and Lasting Lesson
What a relief. We went back home, and by the time I reached my door, I felt utterly drained physically, mentally, and emotionally. And all this happened on a Friday noon, dragged till night.
That experience taught me one of the most valuable lessons of my real estate career:
Never judge anyone by their outward appearances. A polite smile and kind words can mask a world of trouble. Always trust the process, not just the first impression.
Today, I share this story not to dwell on the difficulty, but to remind every property agent and landlord out there stay vigilant, stay persistent, and when things go wrong, don’t be afraid to seek help. Sometimes, the breakthrough comes from the most unexpected place, and often, it’s divine timing that saves the day.