Singapore parenting, practical reviews and tech notes

My $1,499 Laptop Never Arrived — and Amazon Singapore Isn’t Caring

Call log showing +65 3163 6827 called at 1:42 PM on 28 April 2026

I was home. I was waiting. I was ready.

On 28 April 2026, I was expecting an Amazon delivery — an Acer laptop, S$1,499, ordered the day before. Amazon had told me it required OTP verification. You know the drill: driver arrives, you give them a six-digit code, they hand you the box. Supposed to be more secure than leaving a package at the door.

At 9:03 AM that morning, Amazon emailed me: “Arriving Today: A one-time password is required for your Amazon delivery.” Great, I thought — extra security for a big-ticket item.

At 1:42 PM, my phone rang. Local number. Caller ID: 3163 6827.

“Hi, I’m your Amazon delivery driver. I need your OTP to complete the delivery.”

I gave it to him. Why wouldn’t I? Amazon had literally emailed me four hours earlier telling me a driver would need my OTP. This was also my very first Amazon order that required OTP — I had no prior experience with the process, and nothing in the email made it obvious that a phone call was a red flag.

The call ended. My Amazon app updated: “Delivered.”

Nobody came to my door.

The call that started it all — 1:42 PM, 28 April 2026. Caller ID: 3163 6827.

The Part Where It Gets Worse

I checked my IP camera. I checked my smart doorbell. I reviewed the footage thoroughly. No driver, no delivery person anywhere near my unit at the time of the call.

I contacted Amazon immediately.

Amazon’s own customer service confirmed two things:

  1. There was no delivery photo or proof of delivery recorded for my order — their own SOP requires drivers to photograph the package at the recipient’s door
  2. OTPs are only supposed to be provided in person, at the point of delivery, entered directly into the driver’s device

So to recap: their driver (or someone claiming to be their driver) called me, asked for the OTP over the phone, used it to mark the package as delivered, and never showed up. Amazon’s system accepted the OTP without any delivery proof. At 1:44 PM, Amazon sent a “Delivered” email claiming “Parcel was handed to resident” — a statement their own system generated automatically, despite no delivery actually taking place.

And now I’m the one out S$1,499.

The Number That Called Me

+65 3163 6827. It’s a Singapore VoIP number. While it’s normal for delivery companies to use VoIP or in-app calling to reach customers, what’s not normal is what happened next.

And think about this: how did the caller know I had an Amazon delivery that day? How did they know it required an OTP? How did they know the exact delivery window? A random scammer doesn’t have access to Amazon’s internal delivery schedule. And even if someone tricked me into giving them the OTP over the phone — the OTP alone doesn’t make a physical laptop vanish from Amazon’s warehouse. Someone with access to Amazon’s logistics chain had to physically intercept the package.

OTP fraud explains how the delivery was falsified. But only someone inside Amazon’s delivery operation could make the box disappear.

Enter Amazon’s “Leadership Team”

I filed a police report on 30 April (F/20260430/7***, assigned to Ang Mo Kio Division HQ). I then called Amazon and demanded escalation. I was connected to a supervisor named Kyle, who identified himself as being from the “Amazon Singapore Leadership Team.”

During this phone call, Kyle advised me to place a replacement order for the same laptop — the replacement order. He said the investigation and refund would take time, and ordering a replacement was the fastest way to get my laptop. So I did, right there on the call with him.

Let that sink in: if Amazon truly believed the original delivery was legitimate, why would their Leadership Team supervisor tell me to buy a second identical S$1,499 laptop? Why would anyone who just “received” a laptop need another one?

After the call, Kyle sent a follow-up email. He said he had “set a follow-up on my account” and “raised this issue to the relevant team.” He asked for “2 business days to get an update.”

On 2 May, Kyle emailed again. He said the specialist team was “coordinating with Logistics” and — I quote — “discussing the best possible compensation we can offer.”

That was 2 May. I never heard from Kyle again.

I chased on 5 May. Nothing.
I chased again on 7 May from a different email address. Nothing.

On 13 May, I called Amazon for an update. The agent I spoke to checked my case notes and told me Kyle was supposed to call me back on 15 May. “Please be patient,” he said.

15 May came and went. No call. No email. Nothing.

Today: The Mask Comes Off

Today is 23 May. My second Atome instalment for the laptop I never received is due soon. I decided to check on my case status again.

This time, Amazon’s attitude was completely different. The agent told me — coldly — that because I had given the OTP, it was no longer Amazon’s responsibility. Case closed.

I demanded a supervisor immediately. I explained that Kyle was supposed to follow up with me. I asked them to stop passing judgement without actually investigating.

The supervisor who took over was curt. Kept repeating the same line: you gave the OTP, not our problem. And then — she hung up on me.

Three weeks of silence. Two broken callback promises. A supervisor who literally hangs up on customers disputing a S$1,499 loss. This is Amazon Singapore’s idea of “customer service.”

The Part Where Amazon Blames You

Amazon’s position, when you strip away everything else: “You gave away the OTP. That’s on you.”

Let’s lay out what Amazon did — and didn’t do:

  • Amazon sent me an OTP email at 9:03 AM, priming me to expect a driver to ask for the code
  • The one warning about not sharing the OTP over the phone was buried below the visible fold in the email — invisible on a mobile screen without scrolling past product details, tracking links, and delivery instructions
  • This was my very first OTP order — a S$1,499 laptop, not a S$20 cable. Amazon threw a first-time OTP user into the deep end on a premium purchase
  • Their system accepted the OTP remotely without requiring the driver to take a delivery photo — standard procedure that every other delivery driver follows
  • Their system auto-generated a false statement: “Parcel was handed to resident”
  • Their Leadership Team told me to buy a replacement laptop — implicitly acknowledging the first one was never received
  • They promised compensation, then ghosted me for three weeks
  • They promised a callback on 15 May — never happened
  • When I finally pushed for answers, a supervisor hung up on me

Amazon has all the tools to investigate this: chat logs, call recordings, driver GPS data, which driver account redeemed the OTP, whether the caller number matches the assigned driver. They could determine exactly what happened. They have chosen not to.

What I’ve Done So Far

  • Filed a police report within 48 hours (F/20260430/7***, assigned to Ang Mo Kio Division HQ)
  • Contacted Amazon repeatedly across chat, phone, and email over nearly four weeks
  • Escalated to their self-declared Leadership Team (who then ghosted me)
  • Contacted Atome (my BNPL provider) — they said “pursue merchant resolution first”
  • Saved every email, call log, and screenshot

I’m not letting this go. S$1,499 isn’t pocket change, and even if it were — the principle matters. Companies don’t get to design insecure systems, bury the safety warnings, generate false delivery claims, and then hang up on customers who try to hold them accountable.

What You Should Know

If you’re waiting for an Amazon OTP delivery:

  • The driver should never ask for your OTP over the phone. Ever. If someone calls asking for it, they’re not your driver.
  • Don’t hand over the code until you see the box and the driver at your door. That’s literally the point of OTP.
  • If you’re scammed, file a police report immediately. Amazon will drag things out, and evidence degrades.
  • Know that Amazon will try to blame you. Their go-to move is “you gave the OTP, case closed.” Don’t accept it.

Amazon’s OTP system is only as secure as the process around it. Right now, that process has a gap big enough to drive a delivery van through — assuming the van actually shows up.

Police report filed: F/20260430/7***. This post will be updated as the case develops.

Xiaomi 212W HyperCharge Power Bank 24500 review: heavy, powerful, and travel-ready

The first thing people ask when they see me using the Xiaomi 212W HyperCharge Power Bank 24500 is not about charging speed.

It is usually some version of: “Wah, so heavy?”, “Drop on my foot can break a bone”, or “Your bag not heavy enough?”

Fair. This is not a cute little pocket power bank. It is the sort of power bank that looks like it has opinions about your cable management. But hear me out.

Xiaomi 212W HyperCharge Power Bank 24500 showing 100 percent battery on a laptop
Xiaomi 212W HyperCharge Power Bank 24500, also known as the “yes, I know it is heavy” power bank.

Why I wanted one big power bank instead of many small ones

Devices are more power hungry than ever, and travelling with power banks has somehow become more troublesome than ever too.

The irony is that the most troublesome place to travel to and within, at least for power banks, can be China, the place that manufactures so many of the world’s power banks. I had my fair share of confiscated power banks during my China trip in 2024, and the newer 3C / Triple C certification checks make it even more annoying when you are taking trains or flights within and out of China.

Then there are the airline limits. The important number here is watt-hours, not the marketing mAh number. This Xiaomi unit is rated at 89Wh, which keeps it under the common 100Wh airline threshold. That matters because I do not want to stand at security explaining a mystery power brick while my children are asking for snacks.

Basically, on the next family trip, I want to avoid whipping out six different power banks for inspection. I am already the designated family power supply person: chargers, cables, power banks, and the quiet resentment that comes from everyone asking me where their cable is.

The practical appeal: 212W across three ports

The headline number is 212W total output, but the useful part is the port mix. It can do up to 140W from USB-C1, up to 45W from USB-C2, and up to 120W from USB-A under the right cable/device conditions.

In plain English: this is powerful enough to be relevant for a laptop, iPad Pro, iPhones, and other hungry devices. I do not need every device to charge at maximum speed all the time. I just need one battery pack that can handle the family travel pile without immediately giving up.

The colour display is also genuinely useful. I like seeing remaining power and charging speed without guessing from four tiny blinking dots like it is 2012.

The weight is the trade-off

Let’s not pretend. This is heavy. If your idea of a power bank is something you keep in a jeans pocket, this is not it.

But the weight is not pointless. Inside are five 4,900mAh cells, giving it the 24,500mAh headline capacity and the 89Wh travel-relevant rating. That is the whole reason this thing exists: fewer power banks, more usable output, less cable chaos.

For daily commute use, I would still pick something smaller. For travel, especially with a family of four, this makes much more sense to me.

Charging the power bank itself

Another reason I like this category of power bank: it can recharge itself quickly. Xiaomi lists up to 100W input through USB-C1, with a full self-charge in as fast as about 2.5 hours under the right charger and cable conditions.

That is important because a huge power bank that takes forever to recharge becomes another chore. If I can top it up quickly at night in the hotel, it is much easier to justify carrying it.

Who this is for

This is for the person who ends up carrying everyone’s power needs while travelling. Parents, gadget-heavy workers, people with laptops and tablets, or anyone who has been emotionally damaged by airport battery anxiety.

It is not for someone who only needs to rescue a phone once in a while. It is also not the cheapest or lightest option. The point is consolidation: one serious, airline-friendly power bank instead of a messy pouch of smaller ones.

My verdict

The Xiaomi 212W HyperCharge Power Bank 24500 is overkill in exactly the way I wanted.

It is heavy, yes. It may also win in a fight against your toes. But for travel, especially with multiple devices and a family that treats me as a walking charging station, I would rather carry one serious power bank than play power-bank bingo at security.

If you are travelling through places with stricter battery checks, the 89Wh rating and proper certification angle are the key reasons this one caught my attention.

Where to buy

I Bought an NFC E-Ink MagSafe Phone Case Because Apparently My Phone Case Needed a Personality

Black MagSafe compatible phone case with rear e-ink screen
The black MagSafe compatible case with a circular rear e-ink display built into the back.

I bought one of those NFC e-ink MagSafe compatible phone cases, because apparently the next logical step in phone accessories is giving the back of your phone its own tiny low-power poster.

The idea is simple: the case has an e-ink style screen built into the back. Instead of being stuck with one fixed design, you can transfer an image from your phone to the case and change the look whenever you feel like it. Today it can be a photo. Tomorrow it can be a graphic. Next week it can be something deeply unserious that only makes sense to you.

The Clever Bit: No Battery Needed

The clever part is that the screen does not need its own battery. It gets powered during the NFC transfer process, a bit like how some NFC cards or tags work. Once the image is written to the display, it stays there without draining anything.

That is the part I genuinely like. No charging cable, no tiny mystery battery, no “please remember to charge your phone case” nonsense. The phone already asks for enough attention.

Custom photo displayed on phone case e-ink screen
A custom image loaded onto the e-ink screen at the back of the phone case.

How the Screen Actually Looks

The case I received is a glossy black MagSafe-style case with the display sitting inside the circular MagSafe area. The screen has that typical e-ink look: muted colours, visible dithering, and not much fine detail. Do not expect OLED sharpness. This is more “tiny printed sticker that can change” than “mini iPhone screen”.

But for this kind of product, that is actually fine. Simple images, portraits, illustrations, logos, or clean graphic designs work best. If you try to put a very detailed photo on it, the result will probably look a bit crunchy. Charming, but crunchy.

Close up of colour e-ink screen texture on phone case
Close-up of the e-ink display showing its muted colour and visible dot texture.

The App Works, But It Is Very Marketplace Gadget

Setup was not too hard. The companion app lets you pick or create an image, then transfer it to the case using NFC. In the app, the device type shows as NFC, and there are options for things like fonts, image tools, language settings, help, and cache clearing.

It works, but the app feels very “random gadget from marketplace land”. Some parts are not fully polished, and the App Store rating I saw was not exactly confidence-inspiring.

Netme app listing used for NFC e-ink phone case
The companion app listing used to transfer images to the NFC e-ink phone case.
Netme app settings for NFC device transfer
The app settings screen showing NFC device type and related options.

My One Rant: Random Ads

My one real rant: the app randomly redirected me to full-screen ads or affiliate-style sites a couple of times. Not constantly, thankfully, but enough for me to notice and go, “Oi, behave.”

For a product that is otherwise quite fun, that feels cheap. If the app is required to update the case, it should not be flinging users into random ad pages. That is not classy.

So, Is It Worth Buying?

Once the image is on the case, the actual product is fun. It is geeky in a way I enjoy. It turns your phone case into something you can refresh without buying another case, another sticker, or another pile of plastic that eventually ends up in a drawer.

Would I call it essential? No. This is absolutely a novelty purchase.

Would I call it interesting? Very much yes.

If you like small gadgets, customising your phone, or owning accessories that make people ask “wait, what is that?”, this is a fun one. Just keep your expectations realistic: the screen is decorative, not high-resolution; the app works, but has some sketchy ad behaviour; and the whole thing is more conversation starter than productivity tool.

For me, that is enough. It is not perfect, but it is oddly satisfying. And honestly, being able to change the back of my phone case using NFC still feels like the sort of unnecessary tech trick that makes my inner gadget uncle quietly pleased.

View the NFC e-ink MagSafe compatible phone case on Shopee

NFC e-ink MagSafe compatible phone case packaging
The NFC e-ink MagSafe compatible phone case in its Creative Case packaging.

This AirTag AA Battery Extender Is Ridiculous, Useful, and Mathematically Kind of Brilliant

I unboxed one of those AirTag accessories that sounds slightly ridiculous until you think about the use case properly: an Apple AirTag enclosure replacement that runs on 2 AA batteries instead of the usual CR2032 coin cell.

And yes, I know. It makes the AirTag bigger. This is not the sleek little disc you hide elegantly in a wallet. This is the version you chuck into luggage, cable-tie to a kick scooter, or throw into a laptop bag and then forget about until Future You needs it. Honestly, Future You deserves nice things.

Unboxed AirTag AA battery extender with AA batteries, shell, screws, tool, and mounting accessories
The unboxed kit: enclosure, AA battery compartment, screws, tool, adhesive bits, and the usual small parts designed to disappear if you sneeze.

What this thing actually is

The product is basically a rugged AirTag enclosure that replaces the normal button-cell battery setup with a larger battery compartment for two AA batteries. The packaging claims waterproofing, AA battery support, and more flexible mounting options.

Retail packaging for an ultra-long battery life extender for Apple AirTag using AA batteries
The box calls it an ultra-long battery life extender for AirTag. Big claim, but the battery math is not nonsense.

The appeal is simple: AirTags are brilliant until you need to keep replacing CR2032 cells. Apple’s official claim is “more than a year” of battery life, but real-world use can be shorter, especially if you make the AirTag play sounds often. I have seen people mention closer to 6-12 months depending on usage, which is fine for keys, less fine for things you don’t want to keep opening up.

The battery math, because of course I did the battery math

A typical CR2032 coin cell is around 220-240 mAh at 3V. Let’s use 235 mAh as a reasonable middle number.

A decent AA lithium battery can be around 3000 mAh at 1.5V. Two AA batteries in series give you roughly 3V, which matches the AirTag’s expected voltage range better than one AA alone. When batteries are in series, voltage adds, but capacity in mAh stays roughly the same.

So the simplified comparison looks like this:

  • CR2032: about 235 mAh at 3V
  • 2x AA lithium in series: about 3000 mAh at 3V
  • Capacity ratio: 3000 / 235 = about 12.8x

If Apple says the AirTag can last about 12 months on a CR2032, then the very optimistic theoretical number becomes:

12 months x 12.8 = 153.6 months, or about 12.8 years.

That is the “spreadsheet is feeling generous” number. Real life will be worse because batteries have self-discharge, voltage curves are messy, contact resistance exists, weather matters, and electronics never read your calculations before disappointing you. But even if we haircut that down quite aggressively, a claim of just over 10 years theoretically is not crazy when using good lithium AA batteries.

With alkaline AA batteries, the numbers can still be much better than CR2032, but I would be more cautious. Alkalines are cheaper, but they are also more likely to leak if left alone for years. And if this thing is going into luggage or a bag you don’t inspect often, battery leakage is exactly the sort of quiet betrayal that ruins your day later.

Use lithium AA batteries if you can

My practical advice: if you are buying this for long-term placement, use good AA batteries, preferably lithium. The whole point of the product is to stop thinking about the battery. Saving a few dollars on bargain-bin alkalines and then discovering battery leak gunk in your tracker years later feels like losing at a game nobody told you was running.

Where I would actually use this

Two assembled black AirTag AA battery extender enclosures with keyrings attached
Fully assembled, it is definitely no longer tiny. But for luggage, scooters, and bags, that is not really the point.

This is not for every AirTag use case. I would not put this in a slim wallet. I probably would not use it on keys unless I wanted my keychain to look like it had a side job.

But for these, I get it:

  • Checked luggage
  • Cabin bags
  • Kick scooters
  • Laptop bags
  • Tool bags
  • Storage boxes you only touch once in a while

Basically, anything where size is less important than “please keep working without making me remember another tiny battery purchase”.

The trade-off

The trade-off is obvious: it makes the AirTag much bulkier. But that bulk buys you a much larger energy reserve, better mounting options, and less battery anxiety. For luggage and gear tracking, that is a trade I can live with.

Would I use this for every AirTag? No. Would I use it for the AirTag I intend to forget inside a bag for a very long time? Absolutely.

View the AirTag AA battery extender on Shopee

Affiliate note: some links may be affiliate links. If you buy through them, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. This helps fund the very serious scientific pursuit of buying oddly useful things and then doing battery math on them.