“Tinder Swindler” befriends SA man onboard flight

It was the flashy gold Rolex wristwatch encrusted with jewels that first caught the eye of Johannesburg businessman Jake Mendelow (not his real name) when he spotted the man now known to him as the “Tinder Swindler”.

They were both standing in the first-class line at OR Tambo International Airport waiting to board a Lufthansa flight to Germany in October 2017.

“He was wearing a yarmulka and was decked out in fancy designer clothes,” said Mendelow, who prefers that his name, known to the SA Jewish Report, is withheld.

“I know watches, so I said to him, ‘Listen, you can’t wear a watch like that in Johannesburg, you’re going to get taken out’,” said Mendelow.

“In an Israeli accent, he said to me, ‘I’m not worried, you don’t know who I am. I have lots of security.’ I then asked him who he was, and he introduced himself to me as Maor Leviev. He said his uncle was a billionaire diamond dealer who he happened to work for.”

It turns out this was another of his aliases. “Maor” was actually the infamous serial fraudster, Israeli con artist Shimon Hayut, who had changed his name to Simon Leviev.

Hayut has spent the past several years posing as Simon Leviev, the son of billionaire Russian-Israeli diamond mogul, Lev Leviev. He’s now known as the scandalous “Tinder Swindler” featured in the hit Netflix series by the same name released last Wednesday.

The series, which has had everyone talking, is a true-crime documentary which looks at the lavish life, times, and crimes of conman Hayut, who was arrested in 2019 for posing as Leviev, a high spending billionaire on the dating app Tinder, in order to defraud women out of hundreds and thousands of dollars. He refers to himself as “the prince of diamonds” and in order to fund his grand lifestyle of private jets, luxury hotels, and fast cars, he conned a number of women, many out of their life savings. To make his story more believable, Hayut legally changed his surname to Leviev and hired a crew of fake employees and business associates. He also claimed to be a high-powered chief executive who constantly travelled for work. After successfully wooing his victims by showering them with expensive gifts and declarations of love, he started to swindle money from them with tall tales about how his life was in danger. He messaged them, telling them to “send money now” as his enemies were after him.

In the series, three women, Cecilie Fjellhøy, Pernilla Sjoholm, and Ayleen Koeleman, all from different countries who were duped by Hayut, come together to share their shocking and life changing experiences. They are still picking up the pieces after Hayut/Leviev wrecked their lives financially and emotionally. Hayut has been trapping women on Tinder at least since 2015, and has defrauded them out of staggering amounts of cash – the television series suggests roughly $10 million (R154.4 million). He always assumes the fake persona, that of the ultra-suave diamond industry kingpin who has access to private jets and designer wardrobes. He was eventually arrested after journalists from Verdens Gang working with Koeleman set up a sting operation leading to him being caught in 2019 during a joint operation between Interpol and Israeli police.

Outrageously, Hayut, after serving a few months in jail for his crimes, is reportedly at it again, leading the high life.

However, following the airing of the documentary, there’ll be no more swipes for the fraudster who was this week banned from Tinder as well as other dating apps such as Match.com and PlentyofFish after his scams were revealed.

Meanwhile, Mendelow, who landed up sitting next to Hayut/Leviev on a connecting flight from Frankfurt to Dusseldorf had no idea he was a notorious conman.

“He seemed very nice and friendly. He never tried to con me.”

The two men struck up a conversation and the beginning of a new acquaintance by chatting about random things like the line of business they were in.

“I told him I was in the property game, he told me he was in diamonds,” said Mendelow.

“Maor” told him he was going to Dusseldorf to fetch his girlfriend “from the Eastern Block” to take her on a trip to Rio de Janeiro for the weekend.

“I asked him if she was Jewish, to which he replied no, she was not,” said Mendelow.

He even sent Mendelow a location pin when he arrived in Rio, which he still has on his phone.

The SA Jewish Report has listened to a number of WhatsApp messages sent to Mendelow over a period of time.

In one of them, “Leviev” tells Mendelow he will be arriving in Johannesburg en route to Cape Town and will be there over Shabbat. They chat about meeting up for Shabbat, which didn’t happen in the end.

However, the two remained in contact sporadically on and off, but haven’t seen each other since their first encounter.

Mendelow realised who he was only this week after a colleague insisted that he watch the series on Netflix, showing him a picture of the conman.

That’s when he realised that it was the same man he had met more than four years ago.

“I couldn’t believe it,” he said.

Shimon Hayut, 31, comes from a poor, broken family in an ultra-Orthodox neighbourhood in Israel. He has cultivated a stylish, debonair, and suave persona, and posts jaw-dropping pictures of his uber opulent lifestyle in glamorous locations around the world on Instagram. He even has a picture of himself with Table Mountain in the background. He claims he spent time in jail in South Africa, which hasn’t been verified.

The Netflix documentary has been trending since its release, with many in the community reacting on social media.

Some are gobsmacked as to how women could have been duped by Hayut/Leviev in the first place. Many local celebrities have poked fun at the bizarreness of it all, and have turned it into a challenge which has gone viral.

In the Tinder Swindler challenge, celebrities post chic photographs of themselves at lavish night clubs and on private jets captioned with, “Send money now my enemies are against me.”

On a Netflix recommendation Facebook page, one man commented that students from Rhodes University would have come across Hayut if they were at the institution from 2005-2012, claiming he was dodgy even then.

Mendelow told the SA Jewish Report he spoke to lots of people when he travelled on business. “I meet people on aeroplanes all the time. Fortunately I wasn’t his target market, but he wouldn’t have got any money out of me, I don’t trust anyone.”

He said he didn’t know what he would say to him if he saw him again.

“I’d start with ‘Howzit’, he said, and perhaps ask to see his watch to determine if it was fake”.