Scammed Twice, Now Homeless: A Belgian Politician’s Downfall
A former alderman from the Belgian municipality of Mol has fallen into homelessness after being defrauded twice, losing a total of €400,000. Christophe Verdonck (51), who once earned €15,000 net per month as a quality manager in the food industry and served 12 years as a local politician, now spends most nights sleeping in the toilets of Mol’s train station.
“Most nights I sleep in the station toilets. I sit on the toilet seat and rest my head against the wall,” Verdonck told Het Laatste Nieuws. “The NMBS [Belgian railway] people tolerate me. In the morning they come check if I’m okay and bring me coffee. That’s the highlight of my day.”
A Political Career Cut Short
Verdonck served as a CD&V (Christian Democratic and Flemish) alderman for Sport in Mol from at least 2010 through 2018. According to Cumuleo, a Belgian transparency platform tracking political mandates, his annual compensation as alderman ranged between €50,001 and €100,000. He also held multiple unpaid leadership roles, including chairman of several local organizations.
Beyond politics, Verdonck worked as a quality manager in the food industry, at one point earning €15,000 net per month in Denmark. He holds a bachelor’s degree in economics and completed candidacy in veterinary studies, and even studied for a year in Boston.
“I have two degrees,” Verdonck said. “My candidacy in veterinary studies. And a bachelor’s in economics. I even studied for a year in Boston. I don’t think I’m stupid.”
The First Scam: A Family Betrayal
The downward spiral began in 2023. After a trip through India, Verdonck made a stopover in Dubai to visit his nephew, Tom V. (54). The nephew proposed a gold deal: buying gold dust in Africa, smelting it, and selling it at a profit in the UAE. Trusting family, Verdonck loaned his nephew €100,000 with a signed contract, expecting repayment within nine months with monthly interest.
“It may sound like a stupid choice, but this is about family, there was a contract. Everything proper,” Verdonck told HLN in a July 2025 interview. “My father once said: ‘With family you should eat and drink, but not do business.’ If only I had listened.”
No repayments were ever made. The nephew stopped all communication, and when Verdonck traveled to Dubai to confront him, his nephew threatened to call the police. A complaint filed with local police in Mol and contacts with the Belgian embassy in Abu Dhabi yielded no results.
The Second Scam and Domino Effect
The first scam triggered a devastating cascade. Verdonck’s relationship with his partner ended. His alcohol dependency, which he admits has been a lifelong struggle, worsened. On a drunken night, he was arrested for resisting police. While in custody, he met the wrong people and was scammed a second time — losing an additional €300,000.
“And then I really had nothing left,” Verdonck said.
Regional television network RTV covered the initial fraud case in July 2025, reporting on how Verdonck had been cheated by his own nephew.
Life on the Streets
Evicted from his last rental apartment in early 2026, Verdonck has been homeless for approximately three months. His possessions now fit in a shopping cart from Carrefour: a Samsonite suitcase — the same one he used as a manager traveling the world — along with tie-wraps, napkins, deodorant, canned sausages, and tea lights for heating food.
He washes in department store toilets or drop-in centers. He still buys a newspaper every morning to stay informed. “I want to keep up, I need to know what’s happening in the world,” he said.
Perhaps most painfully, Verdonck hides from his own daughter when she passes the station. “When I see my daughter walking past the station, I duck away, behind a wall. I love her dearly, and I would want to say so much, but I don’t want her to see me like this. I sink through the ground.”
A Catch-22 with Social Services
Verdonck has approached the OCMW (Public Social Welfare Centre) but was told he must first quit alcohol before receiving housing assistance — a classic catch-22 for someone using alcohol to cope with homelessness.
“I first have to quit alcohol, they say with ‘the wagging finger,’ and only then will they give me shelter,” he said. “But that’s easy to say. I drink to forget. To soften. To get into a stupor. That’s a circle I can’t just break out of.”
A Glimmer of Hope
Despite his circumstances, Verdonck maintains an unwavering belief in his own recovery. “And yet I believe, no I KNOW, that it will be okay. I WILL have a roof again, and I WILL have a job again. I’ll take anything, I have to get out of here, because the way it is now: it’s no longer sustainable.”
When asked what he wants most, his answer is simple: “A bed, sometimes a bath, a movie in the evening. And to be liked.”
His story serves as a stark reminder of how quickly life can change, and how the line between stability and homelessness can be thinner than many imagine. As Belgium continues to grapple with homelessness — which affects not only urban areas but also 8% of individuals in municipalities with fewer than 15,000 inhabitants — Verdonck’s case highlights the complex interplay of fraud, addiction, and systemic barriers to social reintegration.