Inside the collapse of Indonesia’s most promising creative network

In a market long shaped by global networks and agile independents, the 2011 launch of Fantastis Anak Bangsa (FAB) offered a new model: A shared corporate backbone for locally founded agencies—spanning PR, advertising, digital and experiential—without compromising creative autonomy.

At its height, FAB housed over 30 agencies and worked with clients across FMCG, finance, tech and entertainment. It was hailed as a rare attempt to formalise Indonesia’s fragmented creative sector while preserving its entrepreneurial spirit.

But by early 2025, that model had unravelled. Staff salaries stalled, vendors went unpaid, and the group’s CEO reportedly disappeared.

Campaign spoke to former agency founders, employees and senior leaders—many of whom have since exited the group—who shared how a network built on trust and independence collapsed under opaque financial controls, mounting debt, and structural failings that left little room for accountability.

For many agency leaders, the original draw of FAB was the opportunity to build a business with structural support. Some joined through FAB’s Young Creative Entrepreneur programme, which offered creatives the chance to lead agencies without having to manage back-office operations themselves. “Before FAB, we were salaried creatives. We weren’t trained in finance or operations,” one founder explained. “The idea was that we’d learn to run businesses—but what we really learned was how to manage teams and clients without a boss.”

In theory, the structure made sense. Each agency operated as its own legal entity under the FAB umbrella. The holding company managed shared services to reduce cost and complexity. But few founders realised how centralised the financial control had become—or how vulnerable that made them. “FAB was supposed to pool shared resources to make things more economical,” said one agency head. “But the real issue was how they handled the bank accounts.”

A model built on borrowed cash

Warning signs began to emerge in mid-2024. In July, agency heads were abruptly asked by the group CEO to cut operating costs by 50%, citing cash flow issues and delayed client payments. Some questioned the timing—why mandate cost cuts before closing the financial year? Others were puzzled by the group’s liquidity problems, especially given that many agencies had posted healthy profits in previous years. “We started asking where the money from earlier successful years had gone,” said one agency director. “It didn’t add up.”

For some, suspicions were confirmed through chance. One agency founder recalled being contacted by a relationship manager at one of the banks, who alerted them to the existence of an account they hadn’t even known existed. “When I checked the records, it showed a pattern: Near the end of each month, money would come in from FAB’s corporate account—just enough to cover our team’s salaries—then go out the next day. What shocked me was that the funds weren’t coming from our agency’s known bank accounts, where our clients usually made payments. That’s when I realised we weren’t in control of our own revenue.”

By January 2025, the picture had worsened. Salaries across the network were delayed, including during the critical Lunar New Year period. Yet some agencies knew their clients had already paid—raising new questions. “We’d received [payment] from a client that month,” one director said. “Our monthly payroll was [much lower]. So why couldn’t we pay our team?”

The answer, according to former executives, was that FAB had long been operating on a shadow funding model. Instead of using traditional bank loans, the group had been relying on alternative financing from four institutions: Fundo, Duha Syariah, Amar Bank and TipTip, a live event ticketing platform. Under this model, FAB borrowed against purchase orders and invoices—up to 80% of the invoice value in some cases.

“If we had a PO worth IDR 1 billion, we could get around IDR 500 million from a funder upfront,” one director explained. “With an invoice, we could get even more. But once you’re borrowing against future income, you have to repay it. And when there’s no cash, you start using new invoices to pay off old ones.” The system, they added, resembled a corporate version of payday lending—high-interest, unsustainable, and built on the assumption that revenue would always flow.

As the group’s financial position deteriorated, the funders began seizing more control. By early 2025, the banking tokens for many agencies had been handed over. Incoming client payments were intercepted and withdrawn directly by the lenders, with some even dispatching debt collectors to FAB offices. One former leader described the period as “financial paralysis—our clients paid us, but we couldn’t access a cent.”

Then, in March, everything fell apart. FAB’s corporate email system was shut off due to unpaid fees. Wi-Fi was cut. Laptop rental companies began repossessing devices. And Fritz Bonny Tobing, the CEO, was no longer contactable. “The last time anyone heard from him, he said he was doing something ‘for the greater good’ but that it would upset people,” said one director. “He hasn’t been reachable since.”

Final reckonings

As agency heads tried to exit professionally, some were blocked. “I was told my resignation wasn’t valid and was asked to leave the premises immediately,” said one. “It felt like I was being treated like a criminal.”

Then came the biggest shock: the taxes. Many only learned of their unpaid tax liabilities on their final days at FAB. “My agency owed some unpaid tax, mostly from unremitted VAT and income tax dating back [several years]” said one founder. “And we were one of the smaller debts. Some agencies owed [so much more]. Across FAB’s 30 companies, the total was close to IDR 100 billion.”

Another founder recalled vendors repeatedly asking for tax certificates. “I forwarded the requests to FAB’s finance team, and they told me not to worry. They said everything was filed. Now I know that wasn’t true.”

In the absence of answers, some agency leaders took matters into their own hands. A few began preparing exit plans as early as December 2024, informing clients whose contracts had expired that they would be transitioning out of the collective. Others used novation agreements to legally transfer existing client contracts to new legal entities. “We had no choice,” one said. “The tokens were with the funders. We had to start over.”

To settle debts, some turned to barter. One director negotiated to offset personal claims … in unpaid reimbursements and five years’ worth of unpaid social security contributions—by trading office equipment, including laptops and production gear. Another cleared [their] vendor debt by bartering for office space.

By the end of March, most leaders and teams had formally resigned. Those listed as shareholders began legal processes to remove themselves from corporate records, including obtaining written waivers of liability signed by FAB’s board. The site fabindonesia.com was no longer accessible, and several board members had stepped down.

Where did the money go? According to former insiders, there were three major drains: internal fraud, questionable investments, and personal misuse. Some agencies inflated event costs without proper reconciliation. One such case even reached court, involving a dispute between FAB and a large FMCG company. Other funds went into risky ventures: a strategic consultancy, a storytelling app, a superhero film—all with little to no return. “Some of these projects were vanity plays,” said one source. “They cost billions.”

And then there were the personal purchases. “There were high-end vehicles bought in the company’s name,” said one former agency head. “Why would a creative agency need a luxury sports car?”

The human cost has been significant. Many staff remain unpaid. Only 80% of the mandatory Eid bonus was reportedly disbursed, with March salaries still outstanding. Corporate staff saw their February salaries cut by 40% without consultation. “I’ve been trying to teach my former team about their legal rights,” one agency head said. “This can’t just be swept under the rug.”

As of April 2025, several former leaders have filed complaints with the Indonesian Ministry of Manpower regarding unpaid wages, social contributions and bonuses. Many have since launched new agencies, bringing core team members along. Clients, they say, have been largely understanding.

“Everyone knows this wasn’t the fault of the agency founders,” one said. “The brand is finished. But we’ll rebuild. Just not like this again.”

Notes: This article is based on interviews with former FAB leaders and employees. The allegations contained have not been verified through litigation or official investigations. Campaign was unable to contact the individuals mentioned in relation to the alleged misappropriation but remains open to their version of events.