I need your Help.... Very Important Please Read!!!!

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I need your Help…. Very Important Please Read!!!!
(Or, Michael in Nigeria: A scammer meets a writer)

On the afternoon of December 13 – a Friday, it should be noted – I received an e-mail of distress from an old college friend. Michael was in a dire situation. He was traveling in Nigeria. He’d left his bag in a taxi. His bag contained the important usual: his money, his passport. He needed help, desperately.
This is the story of trying to help, and trying not to be taken.

Original message:

From: <sterz7@yahoo.com>
Date: December 13, 2007 5:35:51 PM EST
To: Brian Josepher
Subject: I need your Help.... Very Important Please Read!!!!

Hope things are good with you? I am sorry I didn't inform you about my traveling to Africa for a program called "Empowering Youth to Fight Racism, HIV/AIDS, Poverty and Lack of Education, the program is taking place in three major countries in Africa which are Ghana, South Africa and Nigeria. It has been a very sad and bad moment for me, the present condition that I found myself is very hard for me to explain. I am really stranded in Nigeria because I forgot my little bag in the Taxi where my money, passport, documents and other valuable things were kept on my way to the Hotel am staying. I am facing a hard time here because I have no money on me. I am now owing a hotel bill of
$1200 and they wanted me to pay the bill soon else they will have to seize my bag and hand me over to the Hotel Management. I need this help from you urgently to help me back home. I need you to help me with the hotel bill and i will also need $1300 to feed and help myself back home so please can you help me with a sum of $2500 to sort out my problems here? I need this help so much and on time because i am in a terrible and tight situation here. I don't even have money to feed myself for a day which means i have been starving so please understand how urgent i need your help.

I am sending you this e-mail from the city Library and I only have 45 mins. I will appreciate what so ever you can afford to send me for now and I promise to pay back your money as soon as i return home so please let me know on time so that i can forward you the details you need to transfer the money through Money Gram or Western Union.

Michael

I read through the e-mail three times. The grammar and punctuation didn’t sound like the Michael I know. The grammar and punctuation sounded like a non-native speaker. However, I decided to give the e-mail its due concern for two reasons. Not eating bothered me. Not eating could affect Michael’s punctuation and grammar. So could panic. Michael sounded as if he’d pushed into crisis mode. We make weird choices in crisis mode.

Twenty minutes after receiving Michael’s e-mail of distress, I received an e-mail of camaraderie from an old college friend. Unlike Michael, whom I’ve had little contact with over the past eighteen years, I’ve had regular contact with Matt. Matt was coming to New York and Matt wanted to see Tom Stoppard’s new play. Was I interested? I never responded to his invitation. I responded by forwarding Michael’s e-mail to Matt.

I also wrote an e-mail to Michael:

Michael, you've put me in a spot here. Why are you in such a desperate emotional place and, if you needed help, why didn't you contact me earlier? I have a very soft spot for you. I can help you financially. Not the $2500 you're asking for but something. But, I have to say. I don't know what to think here. I don't even know if this is real. I know it sounds strange but you're going to have to prove to me that you're really Michael. Give me some details about how we met, some history of our friendship, something you and I might have done together. Be detailed.
Did you send this email to others? To Matt F., for instance? I'd like somebody else's opinion of this.
Brian

Michael contacted me before Matt did. His response came forty minutes later:

From: <sterz7@yahoo.com>
Date: December 13, 2007 6:57:28 PM EST
To: Brian Josepher
Subject: Re: Fwd: I need your Help.... Very Important Please Read!!!!

Brian,
Stop doubting me at this time am really stranded here in Nigeria with no money. It's really me Michael am working for Barnes and Noble. We meet eachother by Matt. he Introduce me to you. I didn't inform anybody when traveling to Nigeria so I didn't contact him yet. Please i need to get out of here soonest I will appreciate what so ever you can afford to send me for now.
Michael

I read through the e-mail three times. Again, the grammar and punctuation bothered me. Again, I doubted the identity of the author. But again, I reasoned that in times of panic and hunger the importance of grammar and punctuation diminishes. Great philosophies, Jean-Paul Sartre once wrote, are not written on empty stomachs.
The belligerent tone bothered me. Lesson number one when asking for money: be kind.
I then reread the first e-mail. I noticed that the author hadn’t included my first name. In my e-mail address my first name isn’t given. Michael, I knew, would have written my first name into the e-mail.
The information in this second e-mail was flat out wrong. Matt didn’t introduce us. I met Michael a good year earlier. Why didn’t he write that? Why didn’t he give details? There were so many details to give. To prove identify might not be fun, but it should be easy. Why had Michael failed in this task?
Again, I asked myself a few questions about his possible state of mind. Was he panicking? Was he starving? If so, were those two overriding dynamics affecting his memory?
That segued to the next set of questions: Was I chalking too much up to panic and hunger? Had my empathy for Michael and his dire condition blinded my ability to see through a scam?
One little detail in this second e-mail played on my mind: the Barnes and Noble reference. When last I spoke to Michael, some three years ago, he had just returned from Brazil. He was in Connecticut. He was working at a Barnes and Noble.

Just then, Matt F. e-mailed me. “Call me,” he wrote. “I think this might be Michael.”

Matt and I didn’t speak for a few hours. Circumstances of course can impede communication. I did, however, receive the following e-mail from Matt in the interregnum:

Brian,
If you haven't done anything yet, let's write to him in German. I will forward these messages to Andy H. too. My sister thinks it's bullshit, but I am somehow convinced it's not a scam.
Best,
Matt

Matt’s sister, it turns out, had spent a few years in Africa during her Peace Corps days. In a Nigerian airport, she and her friends had found a bag of money in dollars and Italian lire. Apparently, Nigeria’s number one export is the swindle. Matt’s sister and her friends had used the money to go on a safari.

The fact that Matt, who has great clarity of mind, thought it might not be a scam pushed me forward. I liked the idea of writing to Michael in German.

Matt, Michael, Andy H. and I had all participated in a trip abroad program during college. We landed in Germany in January 1990. Two months earlier, the East German government had rescinded its travel restrictions. The Berlin Wall was coming down. There were major questions to be answered. Reunification? Reparations? An economic retrofit? A psychological remodeling? And what about that Nazi past? Should the world again trust a greater Germany?

Matt, fluent in German, wrote the following note to Michael, also fluent in German:

Hallo Michael,
Wie kehnst du mich alter? Freut mich von dir zu hoeren obvohl du anscheinend in stich bist. Bist du es wirklich? Ich will dich helfen. Wo bist denn du alter Freund?
Deiner,
Matt

I am not fluent in German. In 1990, I spoke a little. Now, I speak a little less. Here’s my very rough translation:

Hello Michael,
How do you know me old friend? It makes me happy to hear from you although you are apparently in a sting. Is this true? I want to help you. Where are you old friend?
Yours,
Matt

With this e-mail crossing the Atlantic, Matt and I spoke over the phone. Matt is a journalist. Matt offered some sagacious journalistic advice. “We should try to get in touch with his mother,” Matt said.
I’m a writer of fiction and history and, of course, this wonderful column. Apparently writers of fiction and history and wonderful columns don’t always think straight. Not only had I not thought of calling Michael’s mother but, indeed, I had Michael’s mother’s phone number.
I phoned immediately. The answering machine picked up. In the history of weird messages left on answering machines, this was top ten. I introduced myself. I explained when and where Michael and I had met. I then spoke about the e-mail and my concern for her son. In all of my talking I forgot to leave my phone number. I had to call back a second time.
Michael’s mother called me back a few hours later. “Michael’s in Connecticut,” she told me.
I felt this huge explosion of relief. That turned to laughter. I cackled over the phone. I also decided to write back to Michael in Nigeria. Suddenly my concern had turned into a charade. How far can you take a charade?

I wrote:

Michael,
What's going on with you? I haven't heard from you now in two days. Honestly, I didn't think this was real at first but you mentioned two facts (Barnes and Noble and us meeting through Matt) that I can't just dismiss. Are you okay? Like I said in my last email, I can come up with some money. Maybe 1000. Maybe I could send this money directly to your hotel, to help take care of that bill. Actually, I could probably scrape together another 200 and handle the entire hotel bill. What hotel are you staying at? Maybe I could call you there?
Brian

Michael in Connecticut called about an hour later. Life is strange. A scammer forged a reunion. Michael, Matt and I met in New York on a rainy Sunday. We drank beers and shared stories. Fifteen years ago, it turns out, Michael found himself in some dire conditions. He was in Delhi. He’d run out of money. He befriended a Kashmiri. He spent two weeks with the Kashmiri’s family, teaching the family English and German. He never sent out an e-mail of distress.

Some three hours after facetiously offering to send Michael in Nigeria $1200, I received two e-mails. In the first, Matt wrote that he hadn’t received a response to the e-mail in German. The second e-mail came from Michael in Nigeria.

From: <sterz7@yahoo.com>
Date: December 15, 2007 7:50:28 PM EST
To: Brian Josepher
Subject: Re: Fwd: I need your Help.... Very Important Please Read!!!!

Nice to read from you so fast and thanks for wanting to help. Am sorry I never informed you. Send the money to the hotel manager's information and also you can call his phone#: +23412187985. The fastest way of getting the money through to me here will be by western union money transfer. All you need to do is to go to a closest western union location there at your place and get the money sent to the Hotel Manager's below:

Receiver name: George Pent
Address: Eko Hotel and Suites 8.
City: Ikeja
State: Lagos
Zipcode: 23401
Country: Nigeria

Look for any Local store or Supper Market around that has a western union outlet and send the money to the Hotel Manager's information above. As soon as you send the money out, please email me with the money transfer control number, text question and answer and amount sent. I will appreciate your help at this time and I promise to pay back when I'm back in the country.

Thanks God Bless!
Michael

I didn’t like the God Bless! Lesson number two when asking for money: don’t touch on delicate subjects. You don’t want to offend.
I’m not into God. More importantly, I’m not into people who throw God at you at 100 miles per hour. There’s a competition for God these days. From evangelicals to atheists to politicians to physicians to physicists, everyone puts in a claim. It seems like ownership of God has reached a crisis.
I googled the hotel. Sure enough, the Eko Hotel is a resort in Nigeria. An earlier doubt of mine (how does someone ring up a $1200 hotel bill in a developing country?) quickly dissolved. $1200 at the Eko was three or four days worth of pampering.
I googled the zip code. If you sent a letter to 23401, it would end up in Accomack County in Virginia.
As for the phone number, the Eko Hotel listed a general phone number, a manager’s phone number, a concierge’s phone number. None of them corresponded to the digits given.
The country and city codes, interestingly enough, were accurate. I did not phone the number. I did not feel the need.

I woke up two days later to another e-mail from Michael in Nigeria:

From: <sterz7@yahoo.com>
Date: December 17, 2007 6:03:42 AM EST
To: Brian Josepher
Subject: Re: Fwd: I need your Help.... Very Important Please Read!!!!

Thanks for wanting to help me out of this problem. How you doing today? I will want you to email me the western union money transfer control number (MTCN), Sender's name, Amount Sent, Text Question and Answer, so that i can get out of this problem.

Thanks God Bless!
Michael

Again, I didn’t like the God Bless! Maybe it was the God Bless! that pushed me forward. Certainly this charade wasn’t going to work out in my favor. There wasn’t going to be a confrontation. I wasn’t going to be able to identify the scammer. The police weren’t coming. For all I know, the scammer might have been a part of the police force. Or the scammer could have been in Connecticut, at a café sitting beside the real Michael.

I replied:

No problem, Mike. Give me a couple of hours. You'll hear from me by 4 my time, I think. The text question will be, What college did we go to? Obviously, I don't need to supply the answer.

Later that afternoon, I wrote:

Michael,
Okay, I put money in the Western Union system. The MTCN is 769-699-6064. I sent 1200. Text question: What college did we go to? If I can do anything else for you, Mike, please let me know. Also, if I remember correctly, your mother lives not so far away from me, so if you're visiting her, please give me a call. I'd like to catch up with you.
Take care of yourself,
Brian

Simultaneously, and unbeknownst to me, another would-be victim was responding to the scammer. When Michael’s Aunt Sally in Massachusetts received the original e-mail, she made two phone calls. The first to Michael’s mother in Connecticut to verify. The second to a local detective. Aunt Sally also decided to go along with the request for money. She wrote to Michael in Nigeria:

Michael,
So sorry this is taking so long; we've had some bad weather here and it's slowing everything down. I managed to send $1000 late this afternoon. The Western Union transfer code number is 4176295421. The test question is 'Where did I go to college' and of course as you know, the answer is the University of North Carolina. Please let me know when you are safe and sound and out of trouble and that you have received this money.
S.

Michael in Nigeria sent off two e-mails back-to-back. I received the first. Aunt Sally received the second.

Brian,
I call western union to confirm if the money is available for pickup but the response I got was no money available for pickup on that money transfer control number, are you sure you emailed me the correct number (769-699-6064) If yes, Contact western union yourself to confirm whats going on with the transfer, if No, write me back with the correct MTCN number or email me with the western union transfer receipt. I wait to read from you soonest as I cant wait to get out of here.
God Bless!
Michael

Sally,
I call western union to confirm if the money is available for pickup but the response I got was no money available for pickup on that money transfer control number, are you sure you emailed me the correct number (4176295421) If yes, Contact western union yourself to confirm whats going on with the transfer, if No, write me back with the correct MTCN number or email me with the western union transfer receipt. I wait to read from you soonest as I cant wait to get out of here.
God Bless!

Michael in Nigeria didn’t sign his name in Sally’s letter. Why?

At this time, Aunt Sally lost interest. She sent one last e-mail, calling the guy a “scumbag.” I don’t usually say this, but God Bless You, Sally!

I decided to pursue the charade a little longer. I wrote to Michael in Nigeria:

Michael, of course I'm sure that the MTCN is correct. I have the receipt right here. If I had a scanner, I'd send you a copy. The number I emailed you is correct. Something must be going on with the Western Union website. They have a warning on their website that in case of a technical malfunction the recipient should just go to a western union office. The money is there, my friend.

In first drafting this e-mail, I made a spelling error in the third sentence. I originally wrote, “If I had a scammer, I’d send you a copy.” I meant scanner. I almost left the word in that form. Maybe I should have. All I really wanted at this point was the last word.

Michael in Nigeria wrote back two minutes later:

Brian,
Please find a way of scanning the receipt to me, so that i can claim the money at the western union. Email me back.
God Bless!
Michael

I considered my dwindling options at this point. They were: e-mail him back calling him a scumbag or doctor a Western Union receipt. I decided to doctor the Western Union receipt. Online, I found a great website. A fellow named Gilbert offers various ways to bust scammers. Check out his advice at http://www.scambuster419.co.uk/index.html. He even offers a downloadable Western Union receipt. I printed one out.

Then I lost interest. It was like a snap of the fingers. One minute, the charade was semi-exciting. The next minute, the whole game was tedious.

I wrote one last e-mail, just to have the last word:

Michael, sorry but there's no way I can get this receipt scanned in. I don't think I told you but I'm on my way to the Middle East for a few months. Don’t be too upset. After all, you didn’t tell me about your Africa trip. Anyway, I'm leaving tomorrow. There's just no way that I have the time to go and find someone who can scan. All I can say is that the money is there and I have a receipt right here. I’m going to send the receipt to your mother’s address. When you get back to the States, you can claim the money. If you still need it.
Best,
Brian

Of course, I didn’t get the last word. Michael in Nigeria quickly wrote back:

Dear Brian,
The western union MTCN# you sent is not correct. Call the western union to confirm yourself.
Michael

My only remaining question: What, no God Bless!?

(As I completed this column, the news of Benazir Bhutto’s death spread across the Internet. Too late for this columnist on a deadline. Please come back next week for a year’s end version of Josephus’s Jumble. Here are some of the subjects we’re following: the verbal gymnastics of Mitt Romney, the self-destruction of Isiah Thomas, the incarceration of Michael Vick, the 200 lashes and six months imprisonment of a raped Saudi woman, and the sad events of December 27. What role did Pervez Musharraf play in the death of Benazir Bhutto?)

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