The Love Scam (Nigerians get the better of a lonely woman)

                                                 


                                The Love Scam (Nigerians get the better of a lonely woman)*

Love scams, especially those orchestrated by Nigerians, often get into the newspapers, and we laugh at them, but seldom think that we’ll ever get involved in such a ludicrous scam.

Sylvia, and her husband, Alex, were going through a bad patch. She had moved away to her daughter on the Natal South Coast, and didn’t seem to have any intention of ever taking up with her husband ever again. He got himself a girlfriend, and he was pretty happy. Sylvia heard about the girlfriend, and immediately came back to town to claim her husband, chasing the girlfriend out of the house, and started playing the happy wife. The happy wife, of course, wasn’t actually happy, Alex had not broken up with his girlfriend, and really had no time for his rather expensive wife, who spent most of days lunching with her friends, or clothes shopping, charging the purchases to her husband’s accounts.

At lunch one day, Sylvia is beaming from ear to ear, she has heard from her boyfriend from long ago, the one who she chose not to move to the USA with, because of her young children. Her friends all oohed and aahed, how did he find her, what was the story?  

From the Movie Letters To Juliet

Well, Bryson Mitchell, the long-ago boyfriend, had had a fantastic offer to go to the United States, but because her youngest was only 7 years old at that stage, and the older children would have to be taken out of their South African schools, and start a whole new system Stateside, she had sacrificed her happiness, and chosen to not to go. She had met Alex shortly after that, and now, 30 something years later, they were still married, if only just so.

Her friends were so happy for her; here was a real Letters to Juliet love story. All her friends welcomed her to their houses for secret calls to the love of her life. Bryson had briefly come to South Africa, to see his aging mother, but was now on an urgent business trip in Nigeria. He had to go back to Florida immediately after the Nigeria trip, but he would be in SA very soon. Sylvia and Bryson spoke every day, often with Sylvia’s friends overhearing the conversation, and they were so happy about Sylvia’s incredible stroke of luck, to be reunited with her one true love so many years later.

Then disaster struck. Sylvia got a call from a doctor in Nigeria, to say that Bryson had been involved in a car accident, on the way to the airport, and needed medical attention. The doctor assured Sylvia, that other than a broken leg and general bruising, Alex was OK. No, she couldn’t talk to him, he was sedated, and yes, that was him moaning in pain in the background.

Bryson’s American medical aid company was unreachable, they couldn’t get authorization for the operation to be done, but Sylvia wasn’t to worry, he was in good hands, they were bound to reach the medical aid company shortly, and Doctor Akota would call back and give her an update.

Poor Sylvia, the love of her life was injured, and thousands of kilometres away. The doctor, good to his word, phoned a few hours later. The medical aid company had been reached, but helping travellers in Nigeria was not part of their policy. Had the accident happened in South Africa, there would have been no problem. Bryson would have to be airlifted to the US, to receive the necessary treatment there. Bryson had now missed his flight to Florida, and money was needed for another ticket to get him home, and also to cover the hospital and doctor’s bill. Could Sylvia please arrange a transfer of R40 000.00?

Sylvia thought that a bit strange, so she contacted a number of friends, told them what the story was, and asked for advice. Her friends were all sympathetic, and suggested that she contact the American Embassy in Lagos and ask them to speak to the doctor and hospital. The telephone number was googled, and passed on, but as it was already the middle of the night, it was decided to call in the morning. 

Sylvia called the doctor’s number, and told him what was happening, and the doctor advised that she should hurry up and get help, because Bryson was getting ill, not having been attended to. The doctor was doing his best out of the kindness of his heart, but as she could hear, Bryson was in a lot of pain. Could she speak to him? Yes of course, but please don’t tire him. She heard the phone get passed to Bryson, and he did his best to sound manly and not to moan too much because of the pain. He declared his undying love for her, and thanked her so much for being there, and helping, etc, etc. Sylvia told him how much she loved him, that he would get help the next day.

Sylvia's dream (stock photo)

Sylvia was in tears, but a few glasses of wine helped, and she filled in her friends with stories of how her and Bryson had met, fallen in love, how her sisters and parents had accepted him without a problem, how her children had loved him, what a good step father he would have been, and how she had been so brave to sacrifice her happiness for her children’s sake.

The next morning just after 8.00am Nigerian time, Sylvia was at her friend Rebekka’s house to make the call. She was in tears again, and asked that Rebekka make the call. Rebekka dialed, and asked the switchboard operator to connect her with someone in Internal Citizen’s affairs. A Lt Garcia came on the line, and Rebekka explained everything, giving the officer details of the hospital, the doctor’s name, and Bryson’s passport number. She was asked to hold, and the officer could be heard typing on a keyboard. He came back a few minutes later, apologized for the delay, and told Rebekka that there was no record of a passport having been issued to a Bryson Mitchell in the last 20 years, and there definitely was no record of anyone by that name having a valid passport. “Ma’am” said the official, “this is a scam.” Rebekka protested, no it wasn’t, she said, she was experienced with scams, she had a hotel; scamming attempts were dealt with on a regular basis. Would he please run the information through the system again? The officer complied and gave her the same answer. Rebekka asked if she could mail him all the details, and if he would mind having a look at the details in the letter? By all means, said he.

Rebekka wrote the letter, on her company letterhead, so that Lt Garcia would understand that he wasn’t dealing with some hysterical, bored housewife.

Sylvia was getting quite desperate, ranting and raving at the Americans’ lack of caring for their citizens stuck in deepest Africa. She had the R40 000.00 that was needed, but she didn’t have her own bank account; who of her friends would do the transfer for her? Their mutual friend, Maria, said she would, as soon as Sylvia had transferred the money to her account.

Sylvia tried to remember Bryson’s address in Florida. Orange County is where he had his banana farm, ‘Mitchell’s Bananas and Tropical Fruit’. She couldn't remember the address, only that it was in Orange County. She remembers that his ten year old daughter is there with his mother. She tries unsuccessfully to remember names and details. They google the county administration and get hold of the Sheriff’s office address and mail them, asking for information.   

From the movie Letters to Juliet

That afternoon, another call was made to the American Embassy in Lagos. Yes, Lt Garcia had received Rebekka’s mail; he had nothing new to say, but would she hold the line please? Yes, of course. A few minutes later, a woman with an American accent comes on the line; ‘Washington Dept of Citizen Services, how may I direct your call?” This was impressive, just like the movies; you called an embassy on one continent, and got patched through to a US government department in Washington. Rebekka repeated the story. Again, computer files were checked and again the answer came back that there was no such person.

Sylvia’s friends were now wondering if their friend wasn’t indeed the victim of a scam. Sylvia looked at them incredulously, and suggested that they speak to her sister, Alice, whose house Bryson and Sylvia had stayed in a few weeks back. Alice would tell us how she was so glad to have met up with Bryson again after all these years, as they had been good friends, way back then. Alice was duly phoned, and much to Sylvia’s disappointment, she, Alice, had had another dementia episode, and couldn’t remember anything.

Sylvia produced photos Bryson. A good looking rugged guy he was.

AKA?

She kissed the image and stroked it lovingly.

Bryson’s doctor was again called, and after speaking to him, Sylvia assured Bryson that everything would be OK. The money was being sent, and the kind doctor would book the ticket and make sure Bryson safely got on the plane back to Florida. Bryson moaned in pain, and said that the doctor had set the leg and given him some strong painkillers and that he loved Sylvia, oh so much.

By this time, it was late afternoon, and Sylvia had to get home, so that her husband wouldn’t get suspicious. Her friends reminded her that if he said anything, she should remind him of his girlfriend. Rebekka was left alone, with a pile of papers and notes, of everything that Sylvia had said.

It was late afternoon in South Africa, but only early morning in Florida. Rebekka placed a call to the Orange County Sheriff’s office, and spoke to his deputy. No, there was no such person in their county. Social security and driver’s licences had been checked, and they had come up empty handed. The address had been verified, but it was not the Mitchell family that lived there. Rebekka thanked the deputy, and hung up.

She then called the doctor to supposedly check on Bryson. She spoke to Bryson, who thanked her profusely for helping. He was so worried about losing the love of his life the second time around. Rebekka assured him that by the next day everything would be sorted out and he would be on his way back to Florida.

Rebekka busied herself for about an hour. Then she put on her best American accent, and called the doctor again. “Hello, is that Doctor Akota?” Yes, it was he that she was speaking to. “Thank-you doctor, this is Marcia Smith from the Citizens Helpline bureau in Washington, may I speak with Mr Mitchell please?” Americans never speak to someone, like the rest the rest of the world does, they always speak with someone. The phone was handed over, Bryson came on the line; “Is that Mr Bryson Mitchell of Orange County, Florida?” ‘Yes, ma’am, this is Bryson Mitchell” Rebekka repeated that she was Marcia Smith of the Citizens Bureau in Washington, and they had had heard of his plight and needed some details to be able to put things in motion. Bryson sounded stunned. “How did you get this number?”, he asked? ‘Marcia’ replied that Mrs Sylvia Notts had been in contact with their office, and she just needed some details to verify that she was indeed speaking with Bryson Mitchell. Bryson started spluttering and hung up. Rebekka called again, and again spoke to the doctor, who said that Bryson was very sick. ‘Marcia’ sympathized and had him pass the phone to Bryson again, who literally told her not to contact him again on that number and hung up. Rebekka smiled to herself, and after a little while, she called again. And again. Either there was no reply or it went straight to a message.

Rebekka then called Sylvia, and told her what she had done and what had happened. Sylvia at first denied having made up the story about the long lost love. Rebekka became angry, and said Sylvia had best tell her the whole story. Sylvia, in tears, said she had wanted to get back at her husband, and had wanted to make him think that another man was interested in her. Bryson had contacted her through an online dating site. She said she had been suspicious about the broken leg story, but had stuck to her long lost love story, because she was embarrassed that she had lied to her friends in the first place.

Rebekka said:  wasn’t it a good thing that she hadn’t sent the R40 000.00 yet? Yes, said Sylvia, thank goodness she hadn’t sent it.

But she had transferred the money to Maria’s account, and Maria, being the good friend she was, had sent it to a Western Union branch in Lagos. Sylvia made Maria swear to secrecy, never to reveal that she had sent the money. But eventually, at lunch one day, Maria let the cat out the bag, about having transferred Alex’s hard-earned money to a scammer in Nigeria.

So much for Port St Johns’ very own version of Letters to Juliet.
                                                               * Names have been changed.