Rolling in it

Spam filters can be somewhat annoying.  I recently made an online booking and when looking for the details later, couldn’t find what I needed.  Prompted by Mrs GOM, I looked in the junk folder to discover the missing email.

What I also discovered, which I didn’t know before today, is that I am the beneficiary of some quite substantial sums and I am worth millions.  I also learnt that there are quite a few people who have been acting kindly as custodians of my considerable wealth.

The first, Peter Ofili, the Senior Finance officer of the Nigerian Ports Authority, (also known as Frank Brown according to his email address), has $12.5 million waiting for me and wants to transfer it directly to my bank account “for our mutual benefit”.  That last sentence is a bit of a shame; I guess that means I’ll have to kiss goodbye to half of it, still, $6.25 million is better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.  Happily for both of us, Mr Ofili has “every arrangement relating to this transaction diligently worked out hence you can be rest assured of 100% risk/hitch free transaction.”  What a top chap.

As if that news wasn’t joyous enough, you can imagine my surprise when, three days later, Mark David wrote to me with news that the late Edwin Gabriel has made me “a beneficiary to his WILL” (I’m not sure why he shouted that last bit, but with ten million dollars coming my way, it was worth trying to grab my attention).  This one could be a little tricky though, amongst various other details he required, including the name of my first pet and my favourite colour, he wants my fax number.  I haven’t had one for years, but I’ll be nipping out to Dixons PC World later this morning to address the deficiency.

Charles Bailey of the Union Bancaire Privée in Jersey has also been in touch.  He’s a lovely fella; very concerned with my mental health as he writes, “I know that a transaction of this magnitude will make anyone apprehensive and worried, but I am assuring you that all will be well at the end of the day.”  He tells me he’s been with the bank for 15 years, beginning as a junior clerk in 1983.  Once he’s sent me the $37 million from the pseudonymous Karl Henning (who is really the deceased Ferdinand Marcos, but I mustn’t tell anyone in case his family find out), I’ll send him a calendar.

As much as I appreciate his concerns for my health, I think his sympathy would be better placed with Mr’s (sic) Caroline Pascal, the widow of Dr George Pascal who worked at the French Embassy in Ouagadougou, the capital city of Burkina Faso (it is, I checked, you can’t be too sure about these things).  Mrs Pascal’s in a bad way, her doctor recently informed her that she only has “seven months due to cancer problem”, albeit she adds, that the ailment that “disturbs me most is my stroke sickness”.  The poor love.  Her benevolent husband deposited $10.9 million that was destined for charity work to help people in the street.  She’d like me to hang on to 30% of it and distribute the rest to orphans.  Frankly, I’m already $53.25 million up for the day, the orphans can have the lot.

Burkina Faso seems to be a rich source of funds, Bekiana Kipkalya also has $5.2 million for me, and I can keep half of it if I help her get a place at a decent university.  What a shame the Trump University is now defunct.  Its focus on asset management, entrepreneurship, and wealth creation seem to be just the things that Ms Kipkalya requires; it might also teach her to be a little more prudent in the management of her hoard.

Astonishingly, there’s a lot more that’s heading my way – my share of the $63.8 million available is $27.1 million, although Jacques Dassa, of the “Sahelo-Saharan Bank for Investment and Trade Benin Republic” (which, if he’d spelled it correctly, would exist) has somehow learnt that I’ve got a few bob heading my way.  He’s provided me with the bank details of Bill Douglas, an American who is, according to Mr Dassa, my next of kin.  In what has come as an additional surprise to me, Mr Douglas has informed my correspondent that I am seriously ill in hospital and I need to send him $1.2 million, presumably to pay my hospital bills should Nigel Farage ever get his way with the NHS.  Although I’m over $80 million better off than I was when I woke this morning, my health seems to be okay, so I’ll keep that cash in my pocket.

The first of these emails arrived with me on 8 May and I’ve had 12 more since.  Whilst I’m keen to get my sweaty little palms on the cash, to be on the safe side, I’ve forwarded them to NFIBPhishing@city-of-london.pnn.police.uk, the email address provided by Action Fraud, the National Fraud & Cyber Crime Reporting Centre.  As amusing as I have found these clumsy attempts to elicit my details and raid my account, they do represent genuine fleecing activity and a look on Action Fraud’s website provides details of other fraud scams that are frightening in their sophistication.  If you feel you’re at risk, or are concerned for someone that might be, their website is a useful resource.

Of course, if you’re wise to these fraudsters, you may just prefer to enjoy the treatment given to them in his ubiquitous show Joe Lycett’s Got Your Back.  I’d do something similar myself, but I’m going to be far too busy keeping an eye on that junk email folder…

Twitter: @GOMinTraining
Copyright © Craig Brown, 2019
31 May 2019