Celebration Of Impropriety: Deconstructing The Nigerian Fraud Pandemic

On 18th June, 2020, the United States government arraigned 11 Nigerian nationals for a $6 million bank fraud. One week after, Dubai authorities released a cinematic video showing the arrest of Ramon Abbas, popularly known as Hushpuppi. In a sting operation titled Operation Fox Hunt 2, Hushpuppi and 12 other Nigerians were busted in their exotic abodes in the U.A.E. The combined worth of their fraudulent scheme—a whopping N168 billion.

Only weeks ago, Obinwanne Okeke pleaded guilty to an $11 million fraud charge in the U.S.

These arrests have provoked dizzying outrage like never before. Hardworking Nigerians who wish to earn a living on the strength of their talent have been the most pained—and rightly so. The sins of these fraudsters are sometimes unfairly visited on innocent Nigerians home and abroad who engage in honest toil.

For instance, online payment system Paypal does not operate in Nigeria over fraud fears, cutting off Nigerians who intend to work remotely and connect to the opportunities of globalization. For a country with an already battered image, it is now twice harder to be a Nigerian. For all the giant strides fellow citizens are making abroad in the fields of science, technology and art, the world usually assumes the worst about Nigerians—no thanks to the activities of fraudsters.

Also Read: Paper Trail: How FBI Tracked Hushpuppi, Cohorts Via Their Google, Apple Accounts

The recent arrests are a case of the chicken coming home to roost. That Nigerians are suddenly outraged by the activities of yahoo-yahoo criminals is rather curious, seeing how long we have all sat and watched them fester. Some of our social values and attitudes are complicit in the rot. Money is supreme in Nigeria, and society renders invisible those without it.

For long, we have worshiped those with money, with little regard for how it was obtained. Social media has made it worse by creating an allure for conspicuous consumption, turning internet fraudsters the envy of many. Often, we forget that these luxuries are sometimes unearned, and they come at the back of real pain and suffering inflicted on people, including fellow Nigerians, who are victims. Internet scammers have suddenly created a money delusion, and have many young people losing hope in the promise of honest labour.

For long, we have revered politicians who steal public funds, and derided young men and women who live on poor wages. It is almost criminal to be poor in Nigeria: young ladies openly deride men who earn N50,000 or N100,000, insisting that such men must not aspire to marriage—some say they should have no sexual desire! Indeed, women are free to choose their partners, but must also realize such open caricature of low income earners is morally reprehensible and has consequences. It is all part of this culture of money worship.

Many young men with weak morals go into fraud to earn society’s respect through the backdoor. Fraudsters are regularly given chieftaincy titles, and some have slipped through the cracks of the underworld and emerged into Nigerian power. Many of them are abetted by bank and account managers who are aware of what they do. Parents accept cash gifts and luxury cars from their children without probing the source of wealth. Churches have knighted crooks and offered front seats to tithe-paying thieves. Our celebrities, barring a few, celebrate them—causing their teaming fans to see fraudsters as exemplary.

When Nigerian musicians Falz and Simi faulted internet scam last year, they were lone voices crying in the wilderness. If they weren’t as talented, the backlash they faced in the aftermath of that pronouncement would have carpeted their careers. Today, they have been vindicated. Many Nigerians are now suddenly realizing the truth about yahoo-yahoo, their stances upended by what is clearly a global clampdown on Nigerian fraud.

It is important to wean ourselves from the whataboutism that usually surfaces when Nigerians are docked for fraud. It is not a time to ask: What about the politicians who steal public funds? That is an important question, yet public graft, evil on its own, is not the same as wire fraud, dating scam, Alibaba, etc. Those who are worried that politicians are not docked for graft should take that up with the EFCC and the ICPC. Such lumping together obfuscates the discussion and even tangentially legitimizes fraudsters: as if criminals should have a pass until all of them can be swept in at once.

Worthy of note is that while the fraud pandemic is a function of Nigeria’s dystopia, the scale receiving global response is clearly fueled by greed. Indeed, fraudsters have their reasons but certainly have no justification; it is dangerous to confuse the two.

On Nigerian crime abroad generally, a major factor is that many migrate illegally and end up having no legal pathway to livelihood in their host countries, hence they resort to crime.

To push back at fraud, all of us have a job to do—parents, guardians, mentors, educators, peers. Without mincing words, we must condemn fraudsters and fraudulent activities wherever we see them. We must be cautious not to extol people of questionable or unknown income sources. We must resist the urge to shame men and women of moderate means. We must realize that while money is a vital resource, it is also an illusion that promises more than it can deliver.

Thus, we must never seek to acquire it illegally. As for those who still insist on living by fraud, they should note a point in these arrests: all arrested criminals once thought themselves invincible; no matter how smart a fraudster, a combination of digital footprints and global surveillance could one day guarantee the thief a day in court.

This article was first published on Nigeria Abroad As editorial