Those damn Nigerians

On a recent snowy afternoon, I was enjoying a placid work shift at my golf course, watching the snow gently trickle from the grey sky onto the 19th fairway, contemplating how blissfully early the day's work stint would end. It was then that I received a "relay call" from an At&T operator. Typically, relay calls are used by people who are deaf - they call the AT&T operator via the Internet, then type their questions and the operator relays the question to the person at the other end. Normally a nuisance, I reluctantly took the call. The relayer guy wants to buy a bunch of our golf clubs. I'm thinking, great, this will be a nice way to make sales on a slow day. Why a deaf person, with surprising eagerness, wants to buy a dozen golf clubs from our course, I have no idea. But I'll take the money.

Then the kicker. He wants me to ship them to Lagos, Nigeria. Immediately, a red flag went off in my head. Nigeria - land of the lowlife scam artist. I put the relay call on hold, called my boss and asked him if he had heard of this happening.

Alas, I felt silly to have even needed to make the call. The Nigerians give you a credit card number (probably stolen) to purchase the items, then they dispute the charge (if the card is legit), and since you don't have a signature, the business often has to eat the purchase. The use of the relay operator allows them to circumvent certain fraud laws. Meanwhile, they have your merchandise and you never see it again.

What is it with these f#(&!^% Nigerians?

Granted, scamming people is hardly a Nigerian-specific trait. Pretty much any country you can name – and America would in the front-running pack – has its fair share of scam artists, swindlers and grifters. But it's those crazy, meandering emails in broken English promising impossible riches from West Africa that have put Nigeria in a class of their own.

The Nigerian Scam has been emptying the bank accounts of victims for decades — first through letters, then telephone calls, then with faxes and most recently via e-mail. They look something like this, in case you are among the fortunate few who haven't been spammed by one:

REQUEST FOR YOUR KIND CO-OPERATION/ ASSISTANCE.

This letter might come to you as a surprise because we have not met before either in person nor by correspondence. I got your contact through a discreet inquiry you appealed to me, as being quite astute in private entrepreneurship there is no room for doubt in your ability to render your solicited assistance involving no risk but your trust and confidentiality.

I am [INSERT BULLSHIT NIGERIAN NAME HERE], and I am making this contact to you based on the fact that I need your aid to relocate to a safe haven where my father's personal funds US $55,600,000.00 all deposited in four safety galvanized boxes in a financial institution which shall be later disclosed to you upon your offer of acceptance.

We have been granted safety by the United States government and that of the Nigerian government by a meeting held with both presidents in Nigeria, based on their resolution we have been offered political asylum which will confine us to its shores for the rest of our lives in the federal republic of Nigeria by it's president.

Yet problems recovering the large deposit made by my late father overseas since the company maintained that instructions left by our late husband the original depositor states that the funds be "RELEASED TO MY FOREIGN REPRESENTATIVE ONLY," believing he would appoint someone by himself to represent him for the claim but eventually he died earlier thereby making it impossible for us to go any further regarding this claim.

Most importantly, your ability to put the said funds into circulation wisely for our joint interest and relocating us is a major considerable factor regarding our request as our knowledge on financial matters is not enough to handle an amount of money above so large.

I shall make representation to the legal courts to facilitate the amendment process within three working days. Since this is a transaction of immense benefit to both of us, I would want that we shared all expenses according to our agreed sharing ratio of the fortune. The sharing ratio shall be 60% for me and 40% for you.

More informations will be communicated to you as soon as you indicate your readiness and the modalities for the movement of the funds are perfected, then I will be coming over for a short time brake to meet with you for a detailed discussion on what and how to invest the funds upon your confirmation on the receipt of the funds.

Sincere wishes and best regards,

MR. NIGERIAN SCAM ARTIST

In other words, some Nigerian guy out there is claiming to have fifty million dollars that he just can't put his hands on because of some unfortunate legal situation, but magically, the money can be transferred to you with no problem. And for your efforts, you get forty percent of the kitty. They did use the word "sincere," so it must be okay.

Just like that, you're transformed from a cubicle-dwelling plebiscite to the next feature on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. All you have to do is agree! Robin Leach here I come! Get rich quick!

Ah, and here lies the true bait. Apparently, this scam does not work as well in most other countries as it does in the US (which explains how a lottery jackpot can reach the $340,000,000 mark). For whatever reason, the idea of transforming oneself from a raggedy vagabond to a member of the jet set overnight is something that is distinctly American, thus it is for this country that the Nigerian "guyman" sets his sights, looking for a mugu (Nigerian for "fools") to separate from their money.

And really, one would have to be a giant-sized fool to fall for this. Out of the 300 million people in the country, this email happens to find you – and only you – with the promise of freakishly large amounts of money, and you have to do essentially nothing for it. Ever heard the cliché, "If it sounds too good to be true ..."

Here's how it works: if a mugu swallows the bait, with the imaginary millions dancing in his head, the guyman will transfer some unfortunate news to him. In order to cash your lottery ticket, the mugu needs to pony up some nominal amount for the disbursement required to transfer the pile o' cash. If you're a dumb-ass, which in America carries about a 33 percent probability, you'll think "Oh, what's a few hundred, or maybe a few thousand dollars, in compared to the tens of millions I'm about to get."

Then, a complication arises – but no matter, just another $1000 will clear it up. A legal fee, you understand, nothing more. Okay! We're almost there. There's a closing cost, then a wire fee, then the bankers fee, then ...

Then, either the victim has run out of money or has figured it out. According to some of the research I did for this article, a few mugus are actually lured all the way to Nigeria. Shudder to think what happens in that scenario. Doesn't sound fun.

So a few rules to live by here. To finish the cliché: If it sounds too good to be true, it almost certainly is. Even if you've kept your email private, the penis enlargement people will find you, and if they do, the Nigerians can't be far behind. And whatever you do, don't trust Nigerians! Unless, of course, we're talking about Hakeem Olajuawn. Him, you can trust. He's already got a lot of money.

In the end, I keep coming back to the same questions: why the Nigerians? What is it about them specifically that made them kings of the scammers? How did it get so embedded in the culture?

I really don't know. Maybe they rape kittens, and they need more money for more kittens.

Please - to the fine, decent hardworking folks of Nigeria, its just humor. Ha, ha, you know? Don't kill me. I've got money.

Evan Redmon is a manager of a public golf course in Washington, D.C. and writes a few things about stuff sometimes. Contact him at evanredmon@yahoo.com if you really want.