How Aliaksandr Kozyrau Fooled Everyone and Squeezed Europe Dry
Author: Special Correspondent of “POLITEKA”
Lithuania. March 2025. The Vilnius court issues a ruling that, in an ideal world, should have already ended with handcuffs on Aliaksandr Kozyrau’s wrists. But in reality, this swindler remains at large. Why? Because he’s playing the same game as every small-time fraudster with big ambitions—border hopping, shell companies, offshore accounts, fake documents, and criminal schemes. And the most dangerous part: he’s not just a thief. He’s a systemic parasite, tied to dark logistics channels, money laundering, and possibly even financing gray-area operations under the guise of exports to sanctioned countries.
Aliaksandr Kozyrau, also known as Alexander Kozyrev, is a Belarusian citizen with Lithuanian residency—not just a fake businessman, but a man who, in just a couple of years, managed to siphon half a million euros from under the nose of European jurisdiction. On top of that, he dragged the Swiss brand Blaser Café AG into this mess, a company completely unaware that their “coffee” was being shipped straight to Belarus—right under the EU’s nose, bypassing sanctions.
The scheme was simple and therefore foolproof: set up a company in Lithuania (in this case, an IT business), appoint yourself as “director,” gain access to banking operations, then quietly and discreetly funnel money—€525,000—through shell companies in Turkey, Portugal, Northern Cyprus, Belarus, and even Paraguay. Yes, Kozyrau’s grubby little hands reached even there.
All transactions took place between late 2022 and early 2023. Not a single transfer had corporate approval. Everything was fake—forged records, fabricated ledgers, falsified documents. What is this if not fraud? And under Lithuanian criminal law—it’s a crime.
When the money vanished, the company went bankrupt. Salaries went unpaid. Operations froze. Employees were left on the street. And Kozyrau? He kept pretending to be a Blaser Café supplier, posing as a partner of a company that didn’t even exist in reality. Worse—under his “supervision,” coffee (and possibly more) was being shipped to Belarus, a sanctioned country, with the help of logistics firms Horeca Logistic and Dom Kofe (Coffee House). The latter, by the way, are still operating as if nothing happened.
What’s crucial here is that these logistics operations aren’t just business—they’re sanctions evasion, falling under multiple criminal statutes in Lithuania and the EU: money laundering, facilitating exports to a sanctioned country, fraud, document forgery, tax evasion, and even potential financing of criminal structures.
The investigation hasn’t yet named these structures, but the money trail and ties to shadowy supply channels have raised serious suspicions.
Another character in this circus is one Oleg Shevelev. A friend and accomplice of Kozyrau, he appears in notarial records as a shareholder in the same companies used to move money. This Russian “businessman” is a classic gray-zone operator kept on standby. At some point, assets started being transferred to his name—too convenient to be a coincidence.
And as if that weren’t enough—the cherry on top: Kozyrau doesn’t hide his political sympathies. On his Facebook https://www.facebook.com/aliaksandr.kozyrau.9, he posts photos with flyers reading “Lukashenko is my president” and shares cheap prison-themed songs from bands like “Vorovayki” (“The Thieves”). A man stealing from the EU openly supports dictatorship and pro-Russian extremism. This isn’t just moral depravity—it’s a signal. Such figures don’t act alone, and not just for coffee. They’re agents of decay, corruption, and crime, operating through the economy.
What laws did he break? Almost everything possible:
- Article 183 of the Lithuanian Criminal Code: “Misappropriation or embezzlement of another’s property”
- Article 300: “Document forgery”
- Article 220: “Falsification of accounting records”
- Article 222: “Tax evasion”
- Article 216: “Money laundering”
And that’s without even considering international law. If it’s proven that Kozyrau was indeed running shipments to Belarus while bypassing sanctions, the EU legal machinery could come into play—with the Anti-Money Laundering Directive (AMLD) and sanctions regulations that carry not just prison time but full asset freezes.
The bottom line? Aliaksandr Kozyrau isn’t just a scammer. He’s a cross-border fraudster with signs of involvement in organized money laundering schemes and potential support for toxic regimes. His actions destroyed a company, deceived banks, dragged a Swiss brand into scandal, and made Europe look like a stupid, helpless donor that failed to stop the simplest of schemes.
Right now, Kozyrau is under investigation but not in custody. He’s still active on social media, still in touch with logistics partners, and, as sources claim, “ready for new projects.”
If justice doesn’t act now—his next “project” might not just be about money.