In early March 2026, ERR published a story about how well-known forest activist and nature blogger Leili Mihkelson fell victim to businessmen. They persuaded the dementia sufferer to sign a power of attorney, subsequently logging 5.8 hectares of her forest.

The broadcast struck a chord with a former call center employee for a forest brokerage company. Risking sanctions, the man, using the pseudonym Markus, gave an interview detailing the business operations to open the public's eyes and make it harder for officials to overlook violations, even if the activity appears legally proper.

"I was deeply sorry that people are still falling victim to scams or injustice," Markus said. The Mihkelson case reminded him of making similar phone calls. "I thought that at least I had done something right by leaving," he added.

Mihkelson's story is remarkable and emotional in several ways. First, she was a well-known advocate of nature conservation and responsible forest management. Second, the 83-year-old does not remember how the power of attorney bearing her signature came into existence, leading to the logging of her forest near Vändra last year.

"Personal ID code? Yes, that's my signature scribbled here. Oh my goodness!" Mihkelson exclaimed while looking at the document. It later emerged that the power of attorney had expired and that, according to an expert assessment, the timber was worth nearly €100,000, while the owner was paid only €44,000.

"Such predatory behavior cannot be allowed," said her son Raini Mihkelson. Family members feel insulted and deceived.

The broader question affecting many others is how forest businessmen obtained so much information about the victim and by what methods she was ultimately persuaded. This brings us back to the whistleblower, who left the business a couple of years ago.

"Deeply sorry": a former insider speaks out

"It eventually started to really bother me, pestering people like that and sort of enriching myself by stealing from others, and it was so repulsive to me that I decided this job just wasn't for me," Markus said.

The involved entrepreneurs state in writing that they are engaged in fair value creation in forestry and that their activities are legal. Kirsika Kuutma, a lawyer at the Data Protection Inspectorate, noted that although such calls are unethical, they may not be illegal. Kuutma explained that making calls does not automatically mean a law violation because if a forestry company has a legal basis for processing personal data, the activity may be lawful.

Over the years, intermediaries using questionable tactics have been discussed repeatedly. One company often mentioned is Eesti Metsameister, whose founder Taavi Lellep remains active in the sector today.

The issue was particularly sharp because the contrast between the lifestyles of forest owners and buyers was often striking. Over time, a number of similar companies emerged, intertwined either directly through ownership or more indirectly via cooperation, all primarily engaged in forest brokerage and operating in a similar fashion—eventually also drawing the attention of the tax authorities.

According to District Prosecutor Aapo Rehi, many companies linked to Metsameister were allegedly created to evade taxes.

A web of interlinked companies

"Some are so-called subsidiaries, if you will; others are companies that ostensibly provide services to Eesti Metsameister, but in reality are essentially one-person companies, LLCs, created, according to the accusation, to avoid paying payroll taxes—that is, to route Eesti Metsameister's service fees directly to the account of that specific legal entity, after which Eesti Metsameister is no longer concerned with what happens to that money, whether taxes are paid or not," Rehi said.

The prosecutor's office accuses the company and its former executives — Lellep, Mart Sander Mõts, and Karlos Airapetjan — of wage-related schemes that caused one million euros in tax damage. All parties deny wrongdoing and claim that Airapetjan had no employment relationship with Metsameister.

Airapetjan owns the company 1Forest Group, where Markus and Kevin Kõre worked. Kõre founded the company Agriwood, which carried out the transaction with Mihkelson. According to Markus, the purpose of the web of companies is to muddy the trail. "People were pestered during the day by three, four, five, six different companies," Markus described.

Markus worked at 1Forest's office in the Emajõgi Business Center in Tartu (nicknamed "Plasku" or Flask) and made 40–60 calls a day. Internal guidelines provided precise dialogues on how to sweet-talk clients. "You didn't have to come up with what to ask. If something got mixed up, you could look at the cheat sheet to see how to steer the person toward a deal," Markus said. Sales arguments included claims about falling prices and the risk of storm damage.

Some examples of so‑called closing arguments used to break down clients: "Prices will likely drop by 10 percent next month"; "Our budget is limited and we can only buy a fixed number of properties — those who give a definite answer first will be guaranteed a deal"; "Have you considered that this property has a high risk of storm damage or overmaturity?" The company's internal rules leave no room for imagination as to the goal: "The day does not end by the clock; the day ends when the target is met"; "I came to work to make money!"

"What surprised me was the audacity — how so‑called potential clients are approached in reality, and with what aggression and systematic pressure this work is done," said Lauri Mihkelson.

According to attorney-at-law Liisi Jürgen, these calls are psychologically similar to scam calls where PIN codes are requested. "The principle is the same: people are put in a situation where they feel they must give up their forest," Jürgen explained.

Lauri Mihkelson said that even stronger individuals can break under such talking points.

"In my mother's case, she clearly was not a healthy person — she suffers from memory disorders — and obviously she did not grasp the context in which they were trying to catch her. This is the exploitation of the weaker ones in a very, very brazen way. This strongly points to activity on the very edge, if not already a straightforward scam," Mihkelson said.

Why the elderly are hit hardest

Liisi Jürgen, a partner at the law firm Njord, has had five clients who had problems with intrusive forest brokers. Whether it is because older people own more property or for some other reason, what stands out to her is the targeting of retirees.

"The most striking cases are perhaps those where the client and her aunt have been co-owners of forest land for nearly 20 years — the aunt is in her late 70s and still receives calls. On a good day, one call; on a bad day, three; and there have been days with seven calls. The client, who is in her late 30s and fully employed, receives far fewer. In another case, similarly, the grandfather, a man in his early 80s, received so many calls that the family eventually decided to seek out so‑called honest forestry workers to complete a deal — they felt such intense pressure," Jürgen said.

On the other hand, there was also pressure on call center employees, whose pay depended directly on profits. For example, Markus's contract clearly set out tiers: if the company earned up to €10,000 from a deal, the performance bonus was 10 percent; if the profit was up to €20,000, the bonus was 12.5 percent, and so on, up to 20 percent if profits exceeded €40,000. Leili Mihkelson's deal theoretically fell squarely into this range.

"The Leili [Mihkelson] case is an extreme example, but the value of the lot was around €100,000, and the deal was actually closed at the minimum amount, around €44,000. Everything in between is where the broker's commission essentially starts to come from," Markus said.

"They are strongly motivated to work hard, to arrange as large brokerage margins as possible—that is, to buy at the lowest possible price, push the price down as far as they can, so that when the timber is resold, the profit is as large as possible," Rehi said.

"Brokerage firms don't have any equipment of their own. They don't have forwarders, they don't have harvesters — nothing. The whole system works like this: a person sells their forest to me for an absurdly small sum, and I then sell it on to other companies that own the equipment and can actually log the forest. In the end, the forest owner has to provide profit to two companies," Markus said.

The alleged database that "doesn't exist"

Notably, although Markus officially worked at 1Forest Group, the price ceilings — how much could be offered for cutting rights or a property—were set by an appraiser working at Eesti Metsameister. Earning profit cannot be faulted in private enterprise, but Markus's explosive claim is that several companies used a single central database that, in addition to public property and forest data, also contained phone numbers and other personal information such as family relationships. The database was previously called Estate Solutions and is now called E‑Solutions; outsiders have no access.

"If there are multiple owners listed in the cadastral registry — or for the entire forest parcel — those all show up there with phone numbers. In addition, if other forestry companies have already called the person and added notes based on what came up in those calls — things that are important to me or other brokers — those are also written there. I can read everything, orient myself, and build my call accordingly," Markus said.

"We don't know where the data came from. But we do know that it included data from the land register, likely to some extent from the population register, and people's contact details. We also know that, at least in terms of names, the database was always up to date — meaning that the data had to be coming in somehow in real time," Rehi said.

District Prosecutor Rehi confirmed that while the database is not the focus of the ongoing tax‑related criminal case involving Eesti Metsameister, it has repeatedly come up in court. On the one hand, it is perfectly logical that some kind of tool is needed to organize sales. On the other hand, the media has speculated for years about whether a massive data leak might have occurred somewhere. Markus does not know who created the database, where the data comes from, or how it is updated, but according to him, they were forbidden to talk about it under threat of fines. This is also the main reason why he appears anonymously on the ERR program.

"If someone asked where you got, for example, a phone number, you had to approach the person with some kind of lie—say you got it from a neighbor or even from a used‑car ad. You had to sign an agreement that you would keep your mouth shut — the database officially doesn't even exist," the whistleblower said.

Airapetjan stated that no such database exists at all.

"The way work is done is known within each individual company — some use Facebook advertising, some advertise in Maaleht, some use radio advertising; each company decides for itself how it does things or doesn't. A database like that does not exist—this is some kind of, I don't know, interesting… thing. I don't have it, 1Forest Group doesn't have it, and as far as I know, no one has anything like that. Good luck to you if you find it. I have absolutely no knowledge of it," Airapetjan said.

Although Airapetjan initially claims that he does not even understand what is being discussed, things become interesting once we send some evidence. First, a website — one we had not yet mentioned to them — disappears from the internet immediately. Eesti Metsameister and 1Forest Group state in writing that they did indeed have cooperation, but that it ended in March 2024, concerned only a mapping application, and involved no sharing of personal data.

Companies deny sharing personal information

"As part of the cooperation, Eesti Metsameister provided 1Forest Group with forestry‑related support services, including property valuation services and professional consultation. The cooperation also included renting a technical mapping application," writes CEO Joel Lobjakas. "This was not a jointly managed client database or a solution where different companies would share personal data with one another." Lobjakas explained that the cooperation was terminated because the activities of the person in question were "not in line with our principles and values," and that questions by journalists were "a good reminder to take down an unused website."

When discussing the origin of the data, the companies point to public databases, skilful use of the web, and phone outreach.

"I am personally very disturbed that data about myself or my mother was collected in this way, processed, and then deliberately used," said Lauri Mihkelson.

"Just because data is public in a public register and I can view it does not mean I can collect it all together and arbitrarily process it further — essentially carry out illegal processing, whether to support other illegal activities, morally questionable activities, or even completely legal activities. You are not allowed to do that. Random processing of personal data is not permitted," said attorney-at-law Jürgen.

"My logic tells me this is not legal. If this database is so ultra‑secret and absolutely no one is allowed to talk about it, then I rather doubt its legality," Markus said.

Jürgen is particularly critical because already five years ago she contacted the Data Protection Inspectorate on behalf of a client who was tired of sales calls from similar companies, but the DPI merely asked the potential violator whether they might, by any chance, be violating the rules — and if so, to please stop.

"If we ask a data controller to tell us where the data comes from and to delete it, they have a duty to cooperate and are expected to provide us with truthful information," said a DPI lawyer.

Eesti Metsameister emphasized that over the past ten years it has become significantly more professional, more aware, and operates more transparently, and that it does not support or accept practices that are not in line with the law, good practice, or transparent entrepreneurship.

According to the company, it carries out between 600 and 1,000 different forest or land transactions and plants 1.5 million new tree saplings annually, sponsors sports, and engages in other charitable activities. Chairman of the supervisory board Taavi Lellep lives a significant part of the time in Dubai and works in business mentoring, but continues to speak out on forest policy issues. All the more emphasis is placed on strict compliance with the law: "Data is processed only when there is a legal basis, and system compliance has been assessed in cooperation with a law firm."

"When there is this kind of borderline activity going on for years, and we can see through our whistleblower that mass data collection has taken place, I would expect more forceful action," said Lauri Mihkelson.

"Of course, this activity sounds extremely unethical. It sounds very regrettable that things like this should even exist, and people perceive the intrusion into their privacy as extremely serious, because their data has been collected into databases somewhere. But in order to pass such a judgment, I would still have to look inside these systems, so to speak, and hear the explanations from the data controllers. Based solely on indirect hints or rumors, we will certainly not intervene. We need at least some verifiable fact in order to do something or to initiate proceedings on that basis," said a DPI lawyer.

Leili Mihkelson, whose case started the whole story, marked her 83rd birthday on April 10 with a walk and time spent sitting with her family. Next week, however, a roundtable will take place at the Ministry of Climate, where possible changes to access to forest register information will be discussed, prompted specifically by her case.

Kevin Kõre, the head of Agriwood—the company that carried out the deal with Leili—announced that he no longer trusts ERR Pealtnägija program and will not provide any further comments. Until someone independent has seen the mysterious database or mapping application, everything remains speculation.

A recommendation to people: if you do not want to receive such calls, say so clearly and ask that your data be deleted. More broadly, this is something to consider—if we want to be a transparent and smoothly functioning society, we must recognize that keeping data public also comes with its own risks.