Saturday, March 31, 2012

EPISODE 48 – IDENTITY ISSUES

One Bible story that has never ceased to amaze me is the story of Abraham. It was my favourite story as a child and the song ‘Father Abraham has many sons . . .” was one of the earliest songs I learnt. The story of this Biblical father of faith is very extensive but I’d like to focus on part where he was first introduced. God simply called him and asked him to depart from his father’s house and from his kindred. Now, this was a guy who was more or less a prince in his own right. Everything appeared to be going on right for him but he was
instructed to move. The story gets much more twisted as God did not even specify where he was to go. He was told to go to “. . . a land where I will show you”.
Source
I would like to relate Abraham’s case here to the starting up of a new business venture and not knowing where the road leads. You don’t know what to expect but you keep moving anyway. The frightening bit about this situation is the strong possibility of getting hit by unexpected events at anytime. I can hardly imagine what could be worse. It is almost like a case of a blind man walking alone on an express road and hearing the sounds of speeding cars as they race past. He knows he could get knocked down at any minute. However, in Abraham’s situation, there was a clear difference because he was sure that God who had instructed him to move had his back. Now, what do make of a situation where you decided to move on your own without any such divine instruction?

I was chatting recently with someone I have come to admire and respect very much and we got talking about the ways of God. This discussion was prompted when I reminisced on the days while I had my brief stint in the ‘Yahoo-Yahoo’ business and said God probably allowed me to prosper in it for some reasons. She however objected saying God could never have been responsible for my success in the venture because He never supports anything bad. I proposed that God sometimes allows some things even though he doesn’t necessarily cause them, stressing on the ‘permissive’ and ‘causative’ will of God in my opinion. I assume the permissive will of God comes to play when He allows some things happen without directly influencing the occurrence. For instance, I strongly believe it was the permissive will of God that was in action when Job, faithful as he was experienced hell and went from grace to grass. The Lord simply allowed Satan to hurt him even. A situation where bad things happen to ‘good’ people or good things happen to ‘bad’ people in our world today could also be a function of the permissive will of God. On the other hand, I believe the causative will of God is manifested when He directly causes something to happen. Such instances would include God’s judgment on Sodom and Gomorrah or his judgment on the house of David and Israel for the dual sins of his adultery with Bathsheba and later for numbering Israel or I daresay, for the bad things that happen to evil people in our world today (Look who’s talking. Lol) and the good things that happen to good people. I still remain resolute on my opinion until someone convinces me otherwise. The fact remains however that God is unquestionable and He does anything as He sees fit. There is no searching of His understanding and an attempt at such would be like, in Solomon’s words, chasing after the wind.

Within a week of my venturing into the ‘Yahoo-Yahoo’ business, I had made three steady contacts whop had already made some financial commitment to prove how serious they were about me. Miles Peck sent me three hundred dollars the following Monday via Western Union. I was almost certain I had to be dreaming. In April 2007, three hundred dollars was equivalent to about thirty six thousand naira at an exchange rate of about N120 to a dollar. That was like the total money I made in three months after a lot of hard work working as an Office Assistant at an Art Gallery, taking private lessons for two kids and writing short stories for a magazine! Now, I was making that at a go! It had to be a miracle. Dean Flank and Luke Pine promised to send me some money during the week so I could apply for my passport (I told them I had none).

I was at my bank the following Tuesday morning. I previously stopped by at a Computer center to get a wait-and-get ID designed with my alias. I had chatted again with Miles the day before.
“AY I have sent the money. You see how serious I am about you?”
“Oh, Miles. You really didn’t have to.” I replied. “I really don’t need your money. Let’s build our friendship first.”
He sent a ‘sad smiley’ on the screen. “I know AY but I want you to trust me, okay.”
I chuckled to myself as I registered the irony. This old man was trying to win my trust whereas I was the bad guy here.
“Okay I do but please let’s not rush things, okay?” I assured him.
He sent a ‘smiling smiley’ this time. “You just go get your money okay.”
“Alright Miles. Thanks again. I appreciate.”
“You didn’t ask for the secret question. You’ll need that to claim the money.”
Truly, I hadn’t known that. I had never collected money via International money transfer before so I had no idea.
“Oh really? Sorry I didn’t know that” I replied, consoling myself that I was making a honest statement at least.
He spelled out the details and further educated me on what it would take to retrieve money on a Western Union platform. I was thrilled and again I wished I was really the model in the picture. I felt sad at the inevitability of the fact that I would have to break his heart someday.
“You have an ID, right?”
I had none. The only IDs I had were my working ID at the Art Gallery and it bore my real name. I shrugged as I realized it wouldn’t be a problem. All I had to do was make one and there were a million and one computer centers that could create one for me in minutes.
“Yes I do.” I replied.
“Good. Now, please send me another sexy picture of you.”
“Okay Miles. I’ll do that right away.”
“So you’ll get the webcam once you get the money, right?”
I shivered again. In one of our earlier chats, Miles had requested to see me on webcam. He had even turned on his own webcam to reveal a video of a fat, hairy Caucasian man waving and smiling on the screen. I had to think fast. Webcam? The system I was using had a webcam but I would never dare turn on the device and show my ‘maga’ a black guy instead of a sexy black goddess!
“I don’t have one on this computer.” I had told him.
He had not brought up the subject again until that Monday night.
“Okay I will.” I simply said this time, deciding we’ll cross the bridge when we got there.    

At the bank, I went straight to the Western Union section and the banker attending to me asked me to fill out a form which I did. I smiled when I saw the part where I was to fill the question and answer and I gladly did. I passed the form back to the banker and he perused it for a few seconds.
“Can I see your ID please?”
I smiled and reached into my wallet. The ID was still fresh and I hoped the man would not smell a rat. For a second, I wished I had scratched it up a little just to throw off any suspicions. I summoned courage and passed the plastic ID card to him. He collected it and smiled. Then he shook his head. My heart skipped a bit.
“Sorry, you can’t use this, sir,” he said, still caressing my card.
“Why?” I asked dumbfounded. “That’s where I work.”
I had produced a replica of my work ID but simply changed my name. Truth was, I cashed my salary cheques with my work ID and used it as a form of identification all the time so I wondered why the ID bearing my alias could not fly.
The banker gently slided the card to me
“For Western Union, you require any of these three; your drivers’ license, your international passport or your national identity card.”
I had none of the three required IDs. I retrieved the card and sighed.
“What do I do now, sir?” I asked the banker stupidly. My three hundred dollars was disappearing right before my eyes before I even had the chance to touch it.
He still had the smile on his face. Was he mocking at me or what? I wondered angrily. Did he know my secret?
 “You just go and apply for any of the IDs. Your money would still be available for sixty days. Better still, you can contact the sender to retrieve the money and resend to another person with the required ID and the person can come and pick the money. However that would require extra charges for the sender though.”
I thought about the suggestion. Applying for an International passport would cost me about twelve thousand naira. I assumed that was about hundred dollars. Lol. A drivers’ license would cost me about six thousand (about fifty dollars). I had no such money. Besides it would take at least a week for either of the IDs to be ready. I thought about the second option. If I dared tell Miles Peck about the situation, would he not suspect foul play and immediately severe all ties with me? I couldn’t take that risk. Besides, I still had sixty days. I remembered my other two 'magas', Luke and Dean. They had also promised to send me money that week. I realized it would be a disaster if they sent the money to my alias again for which I had no ID. My heartbeat accelerated as I left the bank. I headed for the cafĂ© immediately. I had some money to rescue. 

SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

EPISODE 47 – MAGAS DEY PAY!

My induction into the Yahoo-Yahoo world was hardly ceremonious. I had always envisaged this world as a cult of some sort where one was required to pass tests of all kinds and prove his loyalty to some higher power. Well, in actual fact, that happens especially when one moves up the ladder. I have heard of cases where people have resorted to voodoo and other extreme diabolic means to swindle people of their money. Those at this stage make thousands and hundreds of thousands of dollars, pounds or euros as the case may be. However, I was still at the lowest rung of the ladder and so I was confined to the crumbs. I didn’t mind as long as I got something. In fact, immediately I understood the vast possibilities in this illegal venture and the things I might be required to do as I ascended the hierarchy, I decided I would never wait that long. I just had to get enough money to see me through BG’s pregnancy and take care of any other financial obligations and I would be cool.
“Geebee, do you realize we could be millionaires in another one year?” Sam informed excitedly, as we began our preliminary work.
“Just think of this,” he continued. “If we make like a couple of hundreds of dollars for now, by next month, we could be making like a thousand plus. In another few months, we would be sending cheques and doing transfers here and there and that’s where the big bucks come in.”

I stared at my friend blankly. If only the guy knew why I was doing this, I thought. Sam seemed determined to make this venture his full-time job whereas I hated the fact that I would have to trick people and rob them of their hard-earned money. I might have been involved in numerous vices but I was not a thief! A voice in my head told me I was fooling myself.
“Sam, I think we should just do this for a while, get the little we can get from it and get out. It’s really not the best way of life.”
My friend looked at me as though I had just told him I slept with a crocodile.
“Are you serious? What is wrong with you, man?” He touched my shoulder tenderly. “This is a whole new world out here for us, a vast land for us to take over and you’re talking of just getting the little we can from it?” He shook his head disapprovingly. “I wonder why I told you about this. Bro, you’re breaking my heart!”
“Let’s face it, Sam” I began. “We will be swindling people of their hard-earned money. That’s stealing.”
“Of course it is,” Sam said angrily, trying to keep his voice down. “Who are we stealing from here? Not our own people. We are going to swindle white men, the same bastards that kept us in slavery for centuries . . .”
“Oh please!” I cut in, irritated at his revolutionary approach. I had to laugh and he joined me almost immediately.
“Was it you that was sold into slavery? Let’s not try to use that idea to justify this. What is wrong is wrong!”
Sam smiled and stared at me for a while. “So, are you saying you’re no longer interested?”
“Of course not! I’m only saying I don’t plan to do this forever.”
“Whatever man,” my friend said with a wave of his hand. “I’ll remind you one day when we begin counting our millions on how you said you didn’t want to do it forever.”

By the end of the first day, I had successfully registered my new profile on a dating site. I selected a random name, AY as my handle. I claimed I was 28 years old, a Nigerian and a writer working with a publishing outfit. I got about fifty pictures of a particular model from a modeling site. The model I selected as my face was a gorgeous African-American beauty. She was so stunning that I found myself fantasizing about her. It sounded pretty ironical that I was attracted to a face that was supposed to be mine. For a while I wondered how many other guys were using her face for the same purpose I was. I integrated my new profile into the dating platform and began to send multiple dating requests making my preferences male Caucasians between the ages of 45 and 70. Presido had schooled Sam and I that the older the men, the more lonely and liberal they were.
“Most white men you find on dating sites between the ages of 45 and 70 are desperate men who have either had their hearts broken at one time or the other or who have been through one or multiple divorces” Presido had informed.
“These men are only looking for young women who they could settle down with and retire with. Of course they also look out for good sex and believe black young women can give them all the pleasure they want. They won’t mind spending all they can to get such women.”

With these at the back of my mind, I went to work. Two days later, I was back at the café and checked my inbox for possible responses to my requests. I had sent about thirty requests to various Caucasian men previously. My inbox revealed that I had sixteen responses. I was elated! However, my excitement gradually waned as I opened each mail.
“I am not going to fall for any of your Nigerian scam. Get lost!” the first mail read.
“I have a woman already. Thank you for your offer” the second read.
“Go find another man to scam,” another read.
There were other responses that were far from encouraging and I was almost tempted to quit the entire thing right then. Most of the Caucasian men were not ready to date a supposedly beautiful Nigerian girl they believed could be a scammer. I could hardly blame them. My country had a reputation for its people being involved in high profile scams and only a few years before, it had been listed as the world’s second most corrupt nation. I was not surprised no white man wanted to date me. The eleventh mail brought a flicker of hope. The sender’s name was Miles Peck.
“Hello AY, thanks for contacting me. You are so beautiful and I would like to have you to myself forever. Please reply.”

I felt like break-dancing. All the discouragement I had previously felt over the earlier mails I had read disappeared in an instant. I replied immediately.
“Hello Miles, I am glad you responded. I believe we can go far with each other, God willing. I would love to know more about you and I’ll gladly tell you about myself too. All you need do is ask. I’ll be waiting. AY.”
I proceeded to read the unread mails. I encountered a few more unpleasant responses but I was not bothered. I got two more nice responses, one from Luke Pine and another from Dean Flank. I was encouraged and responded immediately. Before I sent the third response, I got another mail in my inbox. Miles Peck had responded! I read the mail immediately. He asked me to send more photos of me and if I wouldn’t mind chatting. I responded again, sending him my messenger handle. Ten minutes later, we were chatting.

Miles Peck was fifty-seven years old and a retired construction engineer now running his private firm. He had been divorced twice and had two children who were both long gone from home.
“My daughter is thirty one and my son is twenty-nine. They are both older than you in fact,” he said in our chat.
“Really?” I asked. “So do you mind dating someone young enough to be your daughter?”
“Of course not. My daughter would be glad to meet you in fact.”
I was excited. “Yeah, I would love to meet her too.”
“So can you come and meet me in New Jersey soon?”
I almost jumped. What? He was asking me to come meet him. I was about to tell him I’d love to when his chat line came in.
“I can pay for your ticket if you don’t have money,” he added.
“Really? That would be wonderful. I would have to think about it though.” I wrote in pretense.
“Come on, AY. I just want you to come and visit me for two weeks.”

As we chatted on, I felt like my head was in the clouds. It was hard to believe someone I just began chatting with was already falling heads over heels in love. Was the guy drunk? I wondered. However, he sent me a line that sobered me up for a while.
“I have heard a lot about Nigerians. I hope you are not a fraud.”
I wished I could tell him right then that I was not really the beautiful woman he thought I was but I was already way in over my head. I summoned courage and assured him I was none of such. In fact I told him I was not interested in him sending me any money just to get him off the scent. However, to my greatest surprise and delight, he persisted.
“I’ll send you three hundred dollars as a show of faith just to prove that I am indeed serious about you.”
I realized this had to be a dream; some serious dream. I promised to send him my contact details the next day and we ended the chat with me sending him an almost nude picture of the model. He went wide with excitement.
“I can’t wait to see you, AY!”
That very day, I chatted with Luke Pine and Dean Flank as well and more good luck followed. I had to spend an average of ten hours every day in the cafĂ© for the next five days consolidating my contacts and making new ones. By the end of the week, I was sure the sky was not even my limit in the business. Unfortunately, Sam was yet to catch even one ‘maga’. I realized I was the luckiest Yahoo-Yahoo boy around.
SEE YOU IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES.

Monday, March 5, 2012

JUST A PHONE CALL

Hey fam. I've been going through a rather unpleasant experience for sometime now and the reality of the situation didn't quite hit me so strongly until some days back. I feel a little withdrawn to do the next episode on the series and so I simply dug into my archives and brought out this poem. I hope you love it. Enjoy.

JUST A PHONE CALL

You may always have me to miss

And we may never always kiss

But it will always be okay

Cos I’m just a phone call away



All you got to do is dial

And hold on a short while

So you can get a connection

And we can start our conversation



Try not to dial the wrong number

Or you might be calling a plumber

Then we’ll never have this call

And your words won’t pass the wall



When our phone lines get connected

We’ll both get so excited

We might be lost for words

You might even stare at the birds



I’ll tell you how I miss your lips

And how I love your sexy hips

I’ll tease you to so much laughter

And make you smile thereafter



I’ll tell you how much I miss you

And you’ll know it’s really true

I’ll tell you I’ll be with you soon

By May ending or early June



Hopefully we’ll talk for long

Especially if the network is strong

Hope you’ll have a charged phone battery

So I could tell my lottery story



The line might get disconnected

Network failure should be expected

Then you might have to try again

And I hope it won’t be in vain



I really don’t like being out here alone

And having to talk to you only on phone

You know I’m doing this just for us

I’ll soon walk through your front doors



Till then I’ll love you, my angel

And treasure you above every jewel

If you ever have anything to say

Remember I’m just a phone call away


THE GEEBEE CHRONICLES would continue in the next post! Thanks.