Intrum Justitia: the phone harassment nobody can stop

Intrum Justitia demands 120 euros over a cancellation the customer says he already processed

A Vodafone customer cancelled his data line by phone in December 2011. The operator confirmed everything was in order. In January and February 2012 he received two direct debits of just over 60 euros each, which he returned. Since then, a debt collection company has been calling him to collect those invoices, and he keeps saying the same thing: he owes nothing because the service was cancelled and never used.

The case has all the ingredients of a recurring conflict: a phone cancellation with no written proof, an operator that fails to provide the recording, and a fund that buys the debt and turns up the pressure. The customer asks Vodafone for the recording. They don't give it to him. He asks Intrum Justitia to justify the debt. They don't either. The initial debt of just over 120 euros has reportedly grown to just over 170 euros with interest.

The cancellation that, according to Vodafone, was never processed

The sequence is simple, and that's why it stings. A cancellation call in December 2011, verbal confirmation from the operator, and no document. Two later charges, two refunds, and a second call to Vodafone in which he is told the cancellation was never processed. That's when it is actually processed and the charges stop. But the two invoices from January and February had already been issued.

The customer maintains he never used the service after that first call. Intrum Justitia maintains it has two unpaid invoices on record. And in between, an uncomfortable question: who has to prove the cancellation ever peine? The collection company demands the customer justify a phone transaction that the operator itself should have on record. The recording, which he requests, never turns up.

The business of buying debts and making calls

The customer describes the model without pulling any punches: companies that buy debts for less than their face value and live off pressuring people until they pay. It's not a neutral description, it's his take on the business, and it matches what he himself recounts: calls from different numbers, letters threatening a lawsuit, and a debtors' list as a recurring argument.

His response has evolved over the years. At first he patiently explained the situation. Later he started inviting the collectors to take him to court: if a judge rules the debt is valid, he'll pay the amount, the legal costs, and even buy them a coffee. They reply that the decision to sue isn't up to whoever is calling. And they keep dialling.

What you can do about phone harassment

The replies in the thread trinc two paths. The first is filing complaints: with consumer affairs and data protection authorities, free of charge, on the idea that the company will think twice when it sees the customer won't back down. The second is the technical barrier: blacklists on the mobile so their numbers never ring through, forwarding to voicemail and, on the landline, blocking specific numbers or leaving the phone off the hook for a few minutes on each call.

Data protection emerges as the most interesting angle. The recovered contract includes a clause authorising the transfer of personal data to Vodafone's files, but the customer is unsure how far that authorisation extends or whether it covers the sale of the debt to a third party. It's the very question he asks himself, and no one in the conversation can answer it with any certainty.

The unsettling detail isn't the debt. It's the time: more than a decade later, the calls continue. And the amount has grown from 120 to 170 euros without anyone ever producing the recording that would clear everything up.