Edimar Rocha Martins, a 49-year-old bricklayer from Imperatriz in Brazil’s northeastern Maranhão state, liquidated his belongings and endured a grueling multi-day bus journey of more than 1,200 miles to meet the woman he hoped would become his wife. When he arrived in Belo Horizonte, the capital of Minas Gerais, he learned she did not exist.
Martins told local broadcasters TV Mirante and Rádio Itatiaia that he first encountered the social media profile of Jéssica Oliveira — also known as Jéssica Fazendeira — around 2020. The account, which amassed roughly 300,000 followers on TikTok and also posted on Kwai and Facebook, featured realistic videos of a blonde woman living an idyllic rural life on a farm. She presented herself as divorced or a widow, said she was looking for a partner, and repeatedly invited men to join her.
In one widely circulated clip she told viewers, “I want you to come to my farm and never work again in your life.” Other videos promised financial support, housing, and a life free of labor. Martins said the account never asked him for money — and at times seemed to offer help with travel costs — which led him to believe the interest was genuine. He claimed ongoing exchanges through comments and messages that felt personal.
Loneliness played a decisive role. After his mother’s death, Martins said he no longer felt comfortable in Imperatriz. “I don’t want to stay in Imperatriz anymore. I don’t like it there. I liked it when my mother was alive,” he told reporters. “Sometimes, loneliness at home causes a lot of problems in a person’s life. That’s why I came looking for her.” He added that people in that state can end up believing what they might otherwise question.
On October 9, 2026, he sold his possessions to pay for the trip. “I sold all my things, I got rid of everything,” he said. “That’s how you get discouraged, who wouldn’t get discouraged?” He boarded a bus and traveled more than 36 hours, covering approximately 2,100 kilometers. He arrived in Belo Horizonte on October 11 carrying photos of the woman and expecting to start a new life on her farm.
Reality unraveled quickly. Martins walked the streets showing her pictures and asking strangers if they recognized her. No one did. He went to Rádio Itatiaia and asked a reporter to help locate her. Staff informed him the woman was fictional and the videos were generated by artificial intelligence. “I went to the radio station there, and they said, ‘No, that’s fake news, that woman doesn’t exist,” he recounted. Some accounts note that even after the explanation, he continued trying to reach the profile for a short time.
Stranded and out of money, he turned to Belo Horizonte’s Unidade de Atendimento e Acolhimento ao Migrante. The city service provided food, support, and a bus ticket. On October 13 he left, initially heading toward Tocantins, the state where he was born. During the return journey he became ill and received medical attention. He eventually reached Imperatriz around October 15 after more than 50 hours of travel in some reports and is now staying with relatives, including a sister.
After the story gained attention, the account posted a video in which the AI character stated the obvious: “I am made of artificial intelligence. I never spoke to anyone with this profile. The intention was to gain engagement for sale. I never spoke directly to anyone, much less took anyone to Belo Horizonte. It was a surprise to me to see what is happening.” The unidentified operator maintained that the profile was created purely for monetization and product promotion, was largely abandoned, and that no private conversations or personal invitations had taken place. The account was later removed or went inactive. Martins has disputed the denial, saying he believed the responses he received were directed at him.
Despite the financial loss and emotional blow — “It only brings sadness, discouragement, depression” — Martins says he does not fully regret the journey. He has stated he plans to return to Belo Horizonte, possibly around his 50th birthday in 2027, both to thank the people who helped him and to search for a real partner. “I didn’t find her, but I’ll find another one, and it will be in the same place I went, and I’ll go again,” he told TV Mirante. He has also urged others to chase their dreams while remaining cautious.
His case is not isolated. Brazilian media and Rádio Itatiaia report it is at least the third similar incident in Belo Horizonte in less than six months. In June 2026, 72-year-old Walter Rodrigues da Silva traveled from Roraima after seeing comparable farm-life AI videos. In August, 71-year-old Alberto da Costa made the long trip from Manaus, spending nearly R$3,000, under the same illusion. Both discovered the woman was not real. The pattern has prompted local authorities to highlight support services for people who arrive in the city under these circumstances.
The episode illustrates how generative AI tools can now produce highly convincing faces, voices, and lifestyle content that blurs the line between engagement bait and personal connection. For creators, the characters drive views, comments, and sales. For vulnerable viewers seeking companionship, the results can be costly in both money and emotional terms. Martins’ story, which spread rapidly through Brazilian outlets before reaching international coverage and viral posts on X, stands as one of the clearest recent examples of that gap.
He remains with family in Imperatriz, still open to returning to Minas Gerais under different circumstances. The person behind the AI profile has not been publicly identified, and no major criminal charges have been widely reported.
