How Jordanians Traded Crypto Despite Banking Restrictions Before 2025

Before September 2025, if you were a Jordanian who wanted to buy Bitcoin or trade Ethereum, you couldn’t do it through your bank. The Central Bank of Jordan had banned cryptocurrency transactions outright, warning that using digital assets was risky, unregulated, and against financial policy. But people still traded. Not because they were reckless, but because they had no other choice. And they found ways-creative, risky, and often invisible to authorities.

The Ban That Couldn’t Stop People

The Central Bank of Jordan didn’t just discourage crypto. It blocked it. Banks were told not to process transactions tied to crypto exchanges. Accounts linked to platforms like Binance or Coinbase were frozen. Withdrawals to crypto wallets were flagged. If you tried to send money to a foreign exchange to buy Bitcoin, your transfer might get reversed, or worse, your account could be flagged for suspicious activity.

Yet, demand didn’t disappear. Young professionals, freelancers, students, and even small business owners saw crypto as a way out of economic stagnation. With inflation rising, the Jordanian dinar losing value, and salaries stuck in place, Bitcoin became a store of value. Ethereum offered access to global DeFi protocols. Stablecoins like USDT let people protect their savings from local currency swings.

The problem? No legal path. No licensed exchange. No protection. Just a wall of rules and a growing number of people climbing over it.

The Underground Network: P2P Trading Took Over

Without banks, Jordanians turned to peer-to-peer (P2P) trading. This wasn’t some high-tech platform. It was WhatsApp groups. Telegram channels. Facebook Marketplace posts. Cash handoffs in Amman cafés. Bank transfers between strangers with trust built over weeks of small trades.

Here’s how it worked: Someone in Zarqa would post, “I’ll buy 0.5 BTC for JOD 2,000 cash.” Another person in Irbid would reply, “I have it. Meet at Starbucks tomorrow.” They’d meet, verify each other’s identities with ID cards, and swap money for crypto. No middleman. No KYC. No regulation.

These trades weren’t recorded. No receipts. No contracts. Just a handshake and a QR code scan. The crypto was sent directly from the seller’s wallet to the buyer’s. The cash changed hands in person. It was slow. It was dangerous. But it was the only way.

Talal Tabbaa, a Jordanian fintech founder who later launched CoinMENA, said this informal system was the norm. “We had to use unregulated P2P markets just to invest,” he later recalled. “It wasn’t about being tech-savvy. It was about survival.”

The Risks Were Real

This system had no safety net. If someone disappeared after receiving cash, there was no recourse. If a wallet was hacked, the money was gone forever. Scammers posed as traders, took the cash, and vanished. Some people lost life savings.

And then there was the legal risk. The Central Bank’s ban wasn’t just a warning-it was a policy with teeth. While no one was prosecuted for simply owning crypto, banks could freeze accounts, and authorities could investigate anyone with large, unexplained crypto transactions. People lived in fear of being flagged.

Many Jordanians avoided the risk entirely by leaving the country. Talal Tabbaa and his co-founders moved to Dubai to build CoinMENA, a regulated crypto platform, because they couldn’t operate legally at home. Other developers, engineers, and entrepreneurs followed. Jordan lost talent-not because it didn’t have the skills, but because it didn’t have the framework to support them.

How It Compared to the Region

While Jordan froze, its neighbors moved forward. The UAE, especially Dubai, became a magnet for crypto businesses. Over half a million traders operated daily under clear rules. Bahrain licensed exchanges. Saudi Arabia created sandbox programs. Jordan? It was one of the last in the region to even acknowledge crypto existed.

Countries like Kuwait, Egypt, and Iraq stayed locked down too. But Jordan’s economy was more connected to global markets. Its youth were more digitally fluent. Its people were more desperate for alternatives. So they kept trading-quietly, carefully, and constantly.

The 2025 Law Changed Everything

On September 14, 2025, everything shifted. Law No. 14, the Virtual Assets Transactions Regulation Law, was enacted. For the first time, crypto was legal-not just tolerated, but regulated. The Jordan Securities Commission (JSC) became the authority. Exchanges could now apply for licenses. Wallet providers, payment processors, and custodians could operate openly.

The law defined virtual assets clearly: Bitcoin, Ethereum, stablecoins, NFTs with economic value-all covered. It banned unlicensed promotion of crypto services. It required all VASPs to have a physical office in Jordan. It mandated KYC, AML, and cybersecurity standards.

Suddenly, the underground network wasn’t just unnecessary-it was obsolete. Licensed exchanges like CoinMENA, BitOasis, and new local platforms launched in Amman and Aqaba. People could now buy Bitcoin with a Jordanian bank transfer. Sell crypto. Withdraw to their bank account. All legally.

What Happened to the P2P Traders?

Many of them disappeared overnight. The WhatsApp groups went quiet. The Telegram channels were deleted. Why risk a cash meet when you could click a button and trade on a licensed platform with insurance and customer support?

Some former P2P traders became customer service reps for the new exchanges. Others became compliance officers. A few started their own licensed businesses. The same people who once traded in cafés were now running regulated operations.

The law didn’t just legalize crypto-it formalized a movement. It turned underground activity into a legitimate industry. And for the first time, Jordan didn’t lose its talent to other countries. It kept them.

What’s Left Behind?

The old system didn’t vanish without a trace. Some older users still remember the days of cash swaps and midnight wallet transfers. They still talk about the friend who lost $10,000 to a scammer. Or the time they had to drive two hours to meet someone in a parking lot just to buy Ethereum.

Those stories aren’t just nostalgia. They’re lessons. The law didn’t eliminate risk-it just moved it from the shadows into the light. Now, if something goes wrong, there’s a regulator to call. A license to check. A legal path to follow.

Jordan didn’t invent crypto trading. But it learned how to manage it. And in doing so, it gave its people something they’d been fighting for: control over their own money.