I couldn't stop laughing. I had the misfortune of reading this piece while I was eating. Pepper nearly flew out of my nose. Baba onipepeye indeed! In any playful environment, especially with the guys, Kayode already has a cognomen!
My interest in the story goes to the heart of its significance in a pauperised context like Nigeria. Con game is fast enlarging its own continuum. I have been a victim too. From those who have turned begging into an art, to those who claim to possess the necessary chemicals to turn mere papers to naira (but require money to buy the said chemical), to email scams (alerting you to some millions you have won because you played a lottery you never played or because your email was picked as a winner), to 'friends' who got stuck abroad and require your help in returning home, to the brazen invasion of your home by armed bandits.
What explains the actions of those who pit their wit against yours? Well, poverty-the whipping variable-would be a ready answer. If these people are readily and gainfully employed, they won't be dubious. Thus, the ubiquity of con game is directly proportional to the rate of poverty in town. Ameliorate poverty and con game will disappear!
Yet, poverty does not answer the whole question. Why is it called 'con game' in the first place? Socrates held the erroneous philosophical belief that man does not knowingly do evil. I submit that con game-or, as I prefer, cognitive game-is a deliberate defrauding of the other person basically from the undemonstrated belief that I (the con artist) am epistemically and cognitively better than the other. In other words, a con man fabricates his trick based on his confidence (hence, 'con') that he could outwit you, in spite of your education and worldliness.
There is a native slang amongst the Yoruba in Nigeria which goes 'Alakowe go!' (An educated man is stupid). This inference behind 'alakowe' can be enlarged to capture the urban, sophisticated, fortunate, modern elites compared with the not so fortunate who supposedly possess the benefits of native wisdom (that is contrasted to the 'alakowe'). Thus, when greed mixes with the supposed dumbness and numbing effect of modern education (alakowe), then the result is a shower of 'con' flakes from heaven for the smart one.
Ketefe's narration of his experience demonstrates powerfully to me the dynamics of offloading all manner of weapons-atavistic fears, superstitions, oratory, technology, etc-to undermine one's cognitive capacity in the pursuit of quick wealth. Usually the money involved does not conduce to instant wealth, but then it translates into the satisfaction of superior mental capacity, as I think. Even in the midst of poverty, such practices throw up their own unique explanations which poverty itself may not fully capture.
Adeshina Afolayan
Loved this.
Ayo
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Audacity of fraud: a recent experience with scammers
KAYODE KETEFE
If one looks at creative inventiveness of some Nigerians, one would certainly wonder what they would have achieved if the energies had been channeled into positive enterprise. Perhaps, it is no longer newsworthy that our society brimmed with conmen of different characters and strategies. However, a recent experience, which seems to have emanated from a script of a Nollywood producer, is worth being shared with Nigerians.
I have got countless number of scam letters and communications in the past and had always laughed and dismissed them casually. These range from urgent letters from close but distressed "friends" who needed instantaneous financial bailouts, to phone calls from ladies who claimed to have fallen in love with me upon seeing my pictures in the paper and, often, would want me to send transport fare to enable them pay a visit!
But all that pale into insignificance in terms of sheer audacity and ingenuity of the latest experience. I received a call around 9. 30 pm some days ago with number 08182209287. The caller mentioned my name with tone of familiarity and was effusive with greetings. I was not impressed - if you write a regular column, your names and pictures would be in the public domain.
But the caller, in a most somber tone, said he had some important information. From his voice, if the man is not over 60 years of age, he must be a damned good ventriloquist, for his voice ostensibly carried all the sonic signatures of age.
The man, who spoke in rich idiomatic Yoruba that brimmed with ancient proverbs, aphorisms and wit, gave his bizarre revelations. "My son, I don't know you in person. But I want you to listen carefully. Right now as I am speaking, I am inside "Iledi" of egbe awo (The scared grove of the initiates into Awo cult) some people have brought to us your picture and name. They said we must place evil curse upon you that may lead to early death!
"Let me tell you; you are a very talented person and God has destined you to be immensely successful, but the forces of darkness have frustrated the actualisation of the lofty dreams. Right now, a great breakthrough is coming your way and these forces realise there is nothing they could do to stop it this time around. They have contacted us to employ spiritual powers to kill you, so that you will not enjoy the impending great success!"
That was the kernel of the man's statement; I have deliberately cut out other parts as the man was prolix in incantatory and idiomatic speeches which were apparently employed to elicit credibility.
My first inclination was to say "Babalawo, please don't betray your clients; if people have paid you and your fetish cohorts to kill me, why can't you people just go ahead?"
But I checked myself, having decided to play along until I uncovered the whole extent of this brand new form of fleecing.
"What can be done, sir, to avert the said disaster?"
"God Bless you my son, I have just managed to persuade my colleagues, the other Awos, to stay their hands. I also have a son called Kayode who lives abroad and I don't intend to do you any harm. But we must do something to avert the evil. You need to buy three pepeye (ducks) and some other ingredients. Everything will be about N15, 000. It must be done this night for the Awos will disperse this night and it will take weeks before we meet again."
"How do I get the money to you? No bank is operating this hour of the night"
"Send MTN cards to cover the amount, I will send somebody to sell it quickly so that the rituals will begin."
"OK Baba let me go out and buy the cards"
I switched off the phone.
I was surprised the following morning when the man called me again. I thought he ought to have known his game was up, but greed is a vice that often times beclouds reason. He said he was waiting for the cards.
It was then I decided to fool him, too! I sent him six fictitious numbers after which I called and said "Baba, I have just sent you six cards of N1, 500 each totaling N9, 000. I will send the remaining in few minutes time"
An elated voice eagerly exploded in torrents of benedictions. "God bless, my son; please send the remaining ones quickly" He never even mentioned anything about the deadline he had imposed the night before.
Thirty minutes later, the man, in a dejected voice, called to lament that none of the numbers was "accepted." He was wondering what went wrong.
I burst into laughter and promptly sent a bombshell text message to him. "Baba onipepeye, one thousand ducks cannot save anybody. Fraud does not pay; repent from your evil ways. Farewell, Baba onipepeye oganjo!"
I never got any message from him till date.
Only God knows how many gullible Nigerians, have succumbed to superstitious fears and parted with their hard-earned money on accounts of infernal, contrived trick like this.
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