A couple of years ago, I was chased by people through post and fax from as far as Nigeria, Abidjan and Ivory Coast. They wanted my Forex account number so they could wire those millions of dollars stuck up somewhere or incrementing by the day with interest in a bank. One widow from Ivory Coast actually wanted to move to Pakistan after remitting those greenbacks of her late husband into my bank. God, did I resist the temptation or what. Always weak in geography and all the other subjects, I didnt even know where this state was. My spirits dampened a bit when I found out it was in Africa. I also suddenly remembered I was a married man.
Another lady from Cote d’Azore wanted me to locate her late husbands chest of diamonds and emeralds in some Swiss Bank locker. Her husband was the Director of Mining Abidjan and probably everyday before going home, used to swallow those precious stones over the years. She wanted to share the gems with me equally. In those days Swiss Banks and their lockers were already front page stories as indeed they are today. I did not want to share the limelight.
From another African nation, I had the honour of receiving a letter from an ex-First Lady; a good genuine photostat original copy of a note it was. Mrs XYZ said she was the wife of a former Head of State, whose sudden death occurred on June 8, 1998. She wanted to transfer $48 million into my account and 10 per cent was to be my cut. Again the man of character to the hilt that I am, I resisted the lure and turned the lady down. It is not easy kicking off an offer of $4.8 million.
That was some time ago. Having abandoned those outmoded means of communication and shifted to e-mail; I thought I would be safe at least from such attractive get-rich-quick schemes. Occasionally, I do get unsolicited mail to enhance myself though various means. Actually, first my wife got it and when I sneaked up on her and saw that advert on the screen, it nearly killed me from some complex resulting from (an imaginary, no doubt) insufficiency. I would have been a case for the Karachi Freudians, but she explained that it erupted on her screen all by itself. She did not ask for it.
Today, I got one from the Republic of Benin and I don’t know where the Dickens it is. The plan is to load me with $9.7 million owing to the death of Mr Gene, a fixed-deposit-account-holder of a Bank in Benin. The writer, Abaku Kwame, the manager of the bank, doesn’t want the money, ‘fruits of this old man’s labour’ to be appropriated by the corrupt government officials. All I have to do is lay a claim to the effect that I am next of kin of Mr Gene. Mr Kwame wants my dollar account number, phones and fax. He hasn’t mentioned the share. Perhaps I can keep it all. This world still ticks because of such selfless souls.
I am a man of principle, so I decided in principle to submit to the temptation. Also, I thought it my duty to frustrate those officials who would otherwise have robbed the late Mr Gene of his effusive bank balance. Here is my response: “Dear Mr Kwame. Thank you for your offer. I am deeply touched. Your comment about government officials seems real. For once, I thought you were talking about my country. I feel the two of us should see to it that the money does not fall into wrong hands.
“A few years ago, our government put all the Forex accounts on ice. Since then people avoid putting dollars in banks. After I got your offer, I approached my bank manager with a Benjamin Franklin ($100 bill). He said they would activate my dead account with nothing less than $10,000.00 (a draft of $9,900.00 would do as I have one Benjamin with me).
“So kindly remit the amount ASAP in shape of a draft so we can go ahead with the plan. When I have received the remittance, I will split the entire amount on a 50pc basis.
“PS: Did they inter Gene or incinerate him? I hope they buried him and that he was a Muslim though the name suggests he was a Christian or a Jew. But I guess nothing prevents a departed Christian or Jew to have a Muslim cousin when $10,000 million are on the take. Please FedEx the draft.
Considering the sum at stake, what is $10,000 dollars, eh? What say you?
Cousin of the late Mr Gene, Aslam Minhas or Aslam Gene as you may deem proper to enable you to file for the inheritance. I feel Aslam Gene has a better ring to it, doesn’t it? It seems so real! God rest his soul; I miss the deceased already.”
Know what, my right hand palm is itching. Some say it is a sign that the cheque is in the mail.
A couple of years ago, I was chased by people through post and fax from as far as Nigeria, Abidjan and Ivory Coast. They wanted my Forex account number so they could wire those millions of dollars stuck up somewhere or incrementing by the day with interest in a bank. One widow from Ivory Coast actually wanted to move to Pakistan after remitting those greenbacks of her late husband into my bank. God, did I resist the temptation or what. Always weak in geography and all the other subjects, I didnt even know where this state was. My spirits dampened a bit when I found out it was in Africa. I also suddenly remembered I was a married man.
