Sabet/Clarity/Hipwood Saints and Scroungers

Here in the UK we're lucky enough to have transport networks, legal aid and free healthcare.

We are very lucky to have an NHS system,

because a lot of countries, they have to pay for it.

It's something we should pride ourselves upon.

These services are mostly paid for by us, the taxpayer,

and, on the whole, we don't mind.

But what happens when someone tries to steal from the system?

If they've stolen it, then, they know they're running a risk,

so if they get caught, it's a fair cop.

Well, it's outrageous, disgusting, and needs to be dealt with.

With the economy as tough as it is, it's more important than ever

that those who nick from the system don't get away with it,

and those who need help get it.

This is the world of Saints And Scroungers.

Coming up, the scroungers that are out to beat the system.

A fraudster claiming benefits in one London borough

turns out to be a successful landlord in the borough next door.

In October 2009, at the point he claimed housing benefit

from Barnet Council, he had £311,000.

And those who rightly deserve a helping hand.

We meet a man who's struggled to get back to work after losing his sight.

I thought, if I can get a job working with my hands

with something I know about, get a qualification,

I might be able to get some work.

Life's no picnic on a low income.

Yeah, you can get help in the form of benefits,

but very often, any benefit that gives you

is gobbled up by your outgoings.

That's why, when people claim to be skint when they're not

in order to get those benefits...

well, you'll find that people get annoyed.

Meet Mohsen Aboudarda. He's been living in the UK for 25 years

after moving here from Iran, and now lives in Barnet,

a suburb ten miles northwest of Central London,

with a population of around 350,000.

Down on his luck, Aboudarda's been unemployed

and reliant on benefits since 2009,

living in just one room of a shared house.

He was helped out by his local council.

On his initial claim form submitted to Barnet,

Aboudarda said that he was living on £85 a week

employment and support allowance,

had just £1,000 in the bank, and didn't own any other property.

The council gave him £90 a week to help pay his rent

in the form of housing benefit.

It's pretty straightforward so far, you might think.

But in February 2011,

Barnet's anti-fraud team received a referral from Enfield Council,

regarding a landlord in their borough called Mr Sabet,

who was living at the same address as Mr Aboudarda in Barnet.

What really stood out was that the two men shared the same first name.

Over the years Aboudarda had received over £13,000 in benefit,

so the fraud investigators were keen to look into the case

a little further.

The file ended up on the desk of benefits counter-fraud manager,

Tony Nash. The question was, were these two people the same person?

'I've come down to Barnet HQ to find out.'

So, at the moment we have two names in two different boroughs.

One's a landlord doing very nicely, thank you.

The other is a single person needing benefits

to get a roof over their head.

How do you start to establish that they might be the same person?

We initially did a credit check on the name of Aboudarda.

It come back with links to the name of Mohsen Sabet -

same date of birth, had bank accounts,

credit cards and mortgages.

Following that, we did checks with the banks

through powers that we are able to do,

and it again showed further links

with the names of Aboudarda and Sabet.

The evidence was good, but still not strong enough

to prove that Sabet and Aboudarda were in fact the same person.

The fact they shared the same first name and, now, date of birth was ringing alarm bells, though.

We then did further checks with Land Registry

if there were any more properties owned

in the name of Aboudarda or Sabet.

'These checks showed that Sabet owned and was the landlord

'of two houses, one in Oakwood Park,

'another in Hampshire Road.'

The searches also showed that Sabet was joint owner

of a property in Laurel Way.

So, the landlord Sabet owned three houses,

and appeared to be renting a room to Aboudarda,

but something just wasn't right.

With more information about Sabet,

the team searched under the name of Aboudarda,

the name of the benefit claimant who'd told them he was unemployed.

This search showed that Aboudarda had owned a luggage shop

on London Road since November 2004.

A shop-owner on benefits?

Surely business can't be that bad!

This shop was not declared on any of his benefit claim forms,

and set the bells ringing again,

as he almost certainly had been claiming money

that he wasn't entitled to. But that wasn't all.

Under closer inspection of his claim form,

something even more troubling was discovered.

On the benefit claim at Laurel Way,

Mohsen Aboudarda had stated that his letting agents were Century Estates,

who were at London Road.

Not only were the shop and the letting agency on the same street,

they were at the same number.

But searches showed there were no letting agents at that address.

It was now obvious that Aboudarda was committing major fraud.

He had his own shop,

and was using it to help him scam Barnet Council and local taxpayers

out of thousands of pounds.

So, we've got two men living at the same address -

one man who owns a shop and was more than likely ineligible

for state support, and another man, a landlord,

who owns three properties.

The fraud investigators had two identities with too many links,

but they needed to confirm 100%

that they were indeed the same person.

The property in our area, we found out

that it was purchased in November 2007

in the name of Mohsen Sabet and his partner,

who actually was his wife.

There's nothing unusual about a couple owning a property together,

but according to Aboudarda's housing-benefit claim form,

Sabet's wife was Aboudarda's landlady.

The evidence was mounting up.

They have two men who are linked through their first name,

date of birth, bank statements and credit cards.

One, Mohsen Sabet, is a property mogul who owns three houses,

the other, Mohsen Aboudarda,

a businessman stealing benefits from Barnet Council.

We'll find out later if the team were able to prove

the two Mohsens were the same man.

For now, though, it's time to say farewell to the scroungers

trying to fleece the system, and hello to those we call our saints,

people who do everything to make sure that people in need of help,

who are too proud or simply don't know how to help themselves

get what they deserve.

It may be an obvious thing to say,

but people with normal sight can take for granted

just how much we need our eyes.

If something goes wrong with yours,

it can affect every aspect of your life.

Imagine, then, how worrying and frustrating it must be

to lose some of your sight,

but without anybody being able to tell you why.

Meet Kevin Smith from London,

who in the 1980s and early '90s had a successful career as a printer.

I started on local newspapers. I worked on national newspapers.

When I saw the way printing was getting cheaper and cheaper,

I went and worked for a big magazine company.

The father of two boys, Kevin had everything he'd always wanted.

But in 1991 life became much more challenging,

when, aged just 35, he lost the sight in his left eye.

Fearing the worst, and in shock, Kevin was rushed to hospital.

I had lots of tests at Atkinson Morley,

um, Marsden, all of them, loads and loads of tests.

It was, "We don't know what's happened but you've lost your sight."

The doctors couldn't tell him any more,

so Kevin resigned himself to the fact

he'd never see out of his left eye again.

Then, to make matters worse, after working solidly for 19 years,

Kevin was made redundant, and unable to find more printing work,

as the industry had become much smaller

thanks to advances in computer technology.

But Kevin wouldn't give up,

and refused to let his new disability get in the way.

I'd had a very small time unemployed, which I didn't like,

so I got a job as a minicab driver. Chose to work nights,

hated it, but it got us through with the kids.

Growing up, it never really affected Kevin's two sons George and Jack.

I just helped in as many ways as I possibly could, really.

Then, in 2003, Kevin found his dream job

working as a ticket inspector on London buses.

it was a wonderful job.

My job was to detect and deter fare evasion.

If they got a fining, well, that kept the fares down.

Kevin worked for the company for several years,

and was even able to develop his language skills.

I speak French, Spanish and Polish - not fluently,

but sufficient to say, "Look, mate, you haven't got a ticket."

"We need to deal with this." If you're talking their language,

and you can talk things through, and next time you see them again -

cos in London you always do - they've got a proper ticket.

Having come to terms with the shock of losing the sight in one eye,

and the fact that no-one could explain why it had happened,

Kevin had accepted his situation and got on with his life.

He was working, enjoying his job,

and it's fair to say he was coping pretty well -

until, in 2009, suddenly his life changed again.

My friend Larry lives at Tower Bridge, so we had a pint.

I got the Tube home, ironed my shirt, got everything ready for the morning,

went to bed, normal as the day can be.

And then I woke up and I couldn't see any more.

Kevin went straight to the doctor's,

who immediately sent him to hospital.

Kevin had lost 75% of the vision in his right eye,

and results showed that he had a condition

called anterior optic neuropathy,

which is caused by blocking or damaging of the optic nerves,

and can be caused by infection, inflammation or trauma.

They said, "This is what's happened." My optic nerve's been dying,

er, over the years, and it's finally come to a head.

Kevin was finding even the most basic day-to-day tasks very difficult.

Just little things like eating, you know,

how to judge when a fork's in your meal. In the end you use a spoon.

and you think, "Oh, no, I did that when I was a baby."

'That's how life's changed. That's how every single thing's changed.'

Finding clothes in the morning. You have to put it just so,

so you know where it is, cos otherwise it's gone.

He has to think about things a lot more.

He can't just walk down the street.

He's got to think about where he's going.

He needs to learn everything before he does it.

He can't just go for a walk, because he's going to get lost.

It's not as easy as that.

And, of course, Kevin was now unable to do the job he loved.

Even though the company tried to find him an office-based role,

it was decided that, after seven years of service,

aged 54, he should retire.

That was a bad time. That Christmas was horrible.

'In lots of ways it was the end of the world,

'cos I was the wrong age for it to happen. I was on my own in life.'

All that comradeship from work has gone.

Having lost his sight and his job,

Kevin's future was looking uncertain,

and he found himself living on employment and support allowance

and housing benefit, something he thought he'd never have to do.

It should be there if you need it,

cos there are people who can't deal with life.

But I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to do it,

and I'm not proud or anything like that.

There's people worse off than me who are more entitled to it.

To help him get used to coping with life as a blind person,

it was suggested that Kevin move to a sheltered-housing project.

The project's run by a charity, and helps people who've lost their sight

to come to terms with their situation

and get to grips with the practicalities of being blind.

'You're with other people that've got the same thing.

'There's someone showing you how to get on a bus, how to do this, that.'

They had carers, you know, whatever you needed.

I did a lot of shouting at them as well,

but they were used to it. They sort of shouted back in a nice way.

That's the only way I can describe it. Because of them, I started getting my head together.

'It was always in the back of my mind that I needed a job.

'"I can't live like this. I'm bored."'

It was lovely, you know, talking with people,

but I found I was going home and thinking,

"What have you actually achieved today?"

Kevin had been living in sheltered housing,

and unhappily claiming benefits, when all he really wanted was a job.

He did courses in gardening and computing,

and sent out over a hundred CVs,

but still only managed to get some temporary part-time work.

It was a frustrating time, and no matter how hard he tried,

he just couldn't get a break.

If he could get a job that's going to support him

for the foreseeable future, I think he'd be all right, to be honest.

Little did Kevin know that a chance meeting would change his fortunes.

I got on the Tube one day. I was going to see a mate.

There's a beautiful yellow dog on the floor.

I thought, "That's a guide dog." And when I folded my stick -

I use a long cane that goes click when I fold it -

"Whoa, are you blind an' all, mate?" HE LAUGHS

And we started talking, and I said I was looking for work.

And he said, "Oh, my firm is always taking disabled people on."

The place Ricky was talking about was called Clarity,

set up in 1854 by Elizabeth Gilbert,

who lost her sight aged three after suffering from scarlet fever.

She believed in enabling blind and disabled people to help themselves,

a mission that the charity continues with today.

Initially, the charity had seven blind employees who made baskets,

but now has a workforce of 101,

and manufactures high quality shampoos,

toiletries and other household products.

Kevin applied straight away, and was invited to meet Jeremy Robinson,

the chief executive of Clarity.

It was obvious at Kevin's interview

that he really wanted to get back into work.

He'd gone through a really low period dealing with his sight loss,

but he really wanted to get started again.

Kevin was soon accepted onto one of their six-month programmes,

which aims to give employees the confidence and skills they need to get back to full-time work.

When Kevin moves on, the experience he's gained -

things like punctuality, reliability,

working with team-mates, taking instruction from supervisors,

will stand him in good stead elsewhere.

Working two days a week on the production line

has given Kevin a well deserved boost.

The job with Clarity is wonderful, because...

it's got me back into the rhythm of work,

getting up to go to work.

I found... We'd work as a pair, and I was able to say to these guys,

"Come on, we need to do this," and "What about that?"

and I thought, "Hang on a minute, Kev. You can still do it,

even though you can't see it."

Kevin's time working on the factory floor

has not only helped him to get his confidence back,

it's helped him to grow in other ways, too.

They've helped me come to terms with my disability, big time,

cos everyone's disabled there, and I realised that I'm not alone.

I'm not alone, and I'm not just going home thinking,

"Well, the whole world's against me." It's not.

Not only does the charity provide opportunities for blind people,

it helps them to prepare for the future

when they're ready to move on.

The skills that people are taught here

are a variety of production and administration tasks.

They are also helped in terms of their welfare.

Often people who are visually impaired

have difficulty filling in forms or talking to the council,

local authority, etc. So we work on their workplace skills

and also their skills for life,

and when people are ready and able to look for work beyond Clarity,

we help with job-search activities,

and all the things you would need to secure the next job.

It's an organisation that's certainly helped Kevin.

I've got my confidence back. I didn't think anyone would want to employ me,

you know, sort of, this old boy who can't see very much.

I know that, sooner or later, there's a job coming.

My dad will be an asset to any company. He's friendly,

nice guy, works hard...

He can speak about four different languages, which is always handy,

so he's a good guy to have, I'd say.

HE LAUGHS

It's fair to say that Kevin's life changed overnight, and when it did,

he simply refused to let his situation get the better of him.

He didn't want to depend on benefits,

and he wanted to live the life he was living before he lost his sight.

Thanks to the right people who could give him the right kind of help,

Kevin's got every reason to be optimistic about the future.

Time now to return to the world of the scrounger,

those people who are only too happy ripping off the country's taxpayer.

Barnet Council were on the tail of Mohsen Sabet

and Mohsen Aboudarda, two men they believed to be the same person,

and who could potentially have scammed them

for over £35,500 in benefits.

We initially did a credit check on the name of Aboudarda.

It come back with links to the name of Mohsen Sabet -

same date of birth, had bank accounts,

credit cards and mortgages.

Mohsen Sabet is a landlord owning three houses.

Mohsen Aboudarda has been claiming benefits since 2004,

but fraud investigator Tony Nash and his team have discovered

he's a businessman and has his own luggage shop.

The team now needs to prove conclusively

that these two men are one and the same.

Working alongside Tony is Clair Green,

who got in touch with the passport office.

We established from them

that Aboudarda had requested a replacement passport back in 2004.

He'd requested the replacement passport in the name Mohsen Sabet,

and to them he'd provided evidence of his change of name

through a deed-poll document.

This was the most significant piece of evidence that we'd got so far.

This was the piece of evidence that proved

that they were in fact the same person.

With their suspicions confirmed, Clair was able to look further back

into Sabet and Aboudarda's affairs.

Now that we knew he was the same person,

we went back to the credit-check search,

which indicated a number of bank accounts in both names,

and we used our powers under Social Security Fraud Act

to obtain statements from all of the different bank accounts.

No fewer than 18 bank accounts across the two identities -

perhaps more than you might expect from your average benefit claimant,

and a lot more than the two he'd declared on his benefit claim forms.

When we got these bank accounts back, they was very interesting indeed.

It showed us that, back in 2004,

Mr Sabet, or Mr Aboudarda, combined amounts

that had a significant amount of money in the bank.

2007, we've got a figure of almost 822,000 in the bank account,

and in October 2009, at the point he claimed housing benefit

from Barnet Council, he had £311,000,

which was a bit different to what he'd declared on his claim form.

We already knew that Sabet the landlord, in Enfield,

was a businessman and had a business in Enfield.

Now that we'd linked the two people to be the one and the same person,

we started looking into the business interests in a lot more detail.

We linked that to the financial records and the bank accounts,

and it actually revealed that he was running two luggage shops,

one in Enfield and one in Haringey.

So now we have a man who owns three houses,

two luggage shops, and once had nearly a million pounds in the bank,

yet he has the cheek to claim he needs government help.

Clair got on the phone to the Department for Work and Pensions,

who also launched an investigation,

and between them, the two organisations discovered

Mohsen Aboudarda had been playing the system since 2004,

coincidentally the same year he bought his luggage shop

on London Road.

He'd claimed nearly 1,500 from Enfield Council,

over 6,500 from Barnet Council,

and over 12,500 from Haringey Council

in housing benefit and council-tax benefit that he wasn't entitled to.

He also fleeced the Department for Work and Pensions

for over 4,000 in income support,

and nearly 11,000 in employment and support allowance.

That's a whopping £35,500 whipped from the public purse.

Sabet and his alter ego, Mohsen Aboudarda,

had some serious questions to answer,

so the DWP invited Aboudarda in for an interview under caution.

But he told them he wasn't able to attend,

as he'd found work in a factory in Iran

and would be away for some time.

Barnet's fraud team didn't believe he'd left the country,

and decided to carry on with their investigations.

At 7:15 AM on the 26th of July 2011,

the council investigators, the DWP and the Metropolitan Police

decided to pay a visit to the house he owned with his wife in Barnet.

-Morning, madam.

-Morning.

-Mr Sabet upstairs?

There was no response at first,

and eventually a lady came to the door,

and we asked if Mr Aboudarda was there. She said no.

The woman was Sabet's wife,

who told the officers that he was away in Iran,

and she didn't know when he would be back.

But the officers had a warrant, and were able to search the property.

We entered the property. It was immediately noticeable

that the property was in excellent condition,

very plush indeed.

And it appeared that Sabet was a little bit closer to home

than his wife had led the investigators to believe.

We did a search of the premises,

and Mr Aboudarda was found

hiding under the bed in the main bedroom.

Oh, dear - the indignity of it!

Surely he could have found himself a large suitcase to hide in.

That would've been a better bet.

He was arrested, and then a search was done of the premises.

Numerous bank accounts were found in the name of both Mohsen Aboudarda,

Mohsen Sabet.

There were bank cards, bank statements in business names.

There was also lots of money found at the property.

So you've got the guy. You can start asking him some questions now.

Yes. We went back to the police station

and interviewed him under caution.

Tony and the other investigators started questioning Aboudarda

about why he was using two names,

but he was very vague with this and all of his answers.

During the raid of his house in Barnet,

the officers found details of bank accounts,

and could see that large amounts of money

were coming in and going out,

but even with the bank statements in front of him,

he was still vague about his finances when questioned.

Sabet didn't seem to be able to give a straight answer

to any of the investigators,

and he even tried to deny owning the luggage shop under his other name.

So the truth, but not all the truth. A long way from the whole truth.

Yeah, a very long way from the whole truth.

Sabet may have been laughing in his interview under caution,

but now he'd have to keep a straight face in front of the judge.

A wealthy business and property owner

who had absolutely no need to claim money from the taxpayer was about to face the music.

On 7th of March, 2013,

Mohsen Sabet was sentenced to nine months' imprisonment

for ten counts of benefit fraud,

totalling £36,000,

against the London Borough of Barnet,

London Borough of Haringey and Enfield, and the DWP.

When asked why he'd tried to cheat the system,

Sabet said he did it because he could.

Sabet's wife was not linked to or implicated in any of his crimes.

Under the Proceeds of Crime Act, a confiscation order was granted.

This means that Mohsen Sabet's assets will be frozen

and can be sold to recover and repay the money

that he stole from the taxpaying public.

'The order also gives Barnet Council the power

'to confiscate any money that Sabet cannot prove

'he legitimately earned,

'putting even more money back into the public purse.'

So it ensures that, you know, crime doesn't pay for them.

They don't benefit from their criminal activity.

Whatever Sabet's reasons for trying to defraud the councils

of North London and the DWP,

we can rest assured that the Barnet fraud team won't stop

until he's repaid every penny that he owes.

Sabet had it all -

his own successful business and his own home,

things that people would give their right arms for

and which take a lifetime of honest endeavour.

But it wasn't enough. He wanted more,

and now he's got nine months to work out what he's going to do next,

and for the council to work out just how much he's going to pay back.