Fake Dubai Crown Prince tracked to Nigerian mansion after $2.5M love scam
The investigation followed a high-profile fraudster who posed as the Crown Prince of Dubai in a successful plot to defraud a Romanian businesswoman of more than US $2.5 million.
That alone, sadly, is probably not a shocking story. But what the Organization Crime and Corruption Reporting Project (OCCRP) found is that in this case the perpetrators present themselves to the public as helpers, while destroying the lives of the victims.
The victim, Laura (not her real name), was a successful Romanian businesswoman when she received a LinkedIn message three years ago from someone claiming to be the Prince of Dubai.
The man said he wanted his help in investing a large amount of money in a charity in Romania. What followed was a textbook example of how modern romance scams can work.
Over the next two years, the two exchanged thousands of messages as an apparent romance developed. Meanwhile, Laura met a man who claimed to be “the Prince’s financial manager” in London, where she was given bank account statements showing deposits of more than £200 million. The bank’s website, of course, was an elaborate hoax.
Luckily, Laura’s friend filmed her meeting the “finance manager” – a scene that would prove important later.
Laura tried to withdraw the funds from the account, only to find the need for large expenses to release the “Prince’s funds.” Since Laura had already sent hundreds of thousands of dollars to her online beau, she continued to pay, believing it was the only way to get her money back.
In total, he sent more than US $2.5 million before realizing he was a victim of crime.
But things were not to go the cheater’s way. The fake prince had partners who helped move the money, but they argued over how the spoils of the scam should be divided. Eventually they contact Laura, expose the fraud and reveal the fake prince’s real name: Nzube Henry Ikeji.
Laura was also sent videos of Ikeji in his newly purchased house in Abuja, Nigeria.
Armed with this information, OCCRP reporters went to Nigeria to follow the scam.
Nigeria does not have extensive Google Street View coverage or a comprehensive property registry, so OCCRP’s Chikezie Omeje used old-fashioned methods to find Ikeji’s mansion – spending days driving around Abuja until he found a similar mansion.
Meanwhile, a photo taken by Laura’s friend in London was shared with the British police, who identified the “financial manager” as Dr. Martins Abhulimhen, who were investigating him by mistake regarding suspicious bank payments. This transaction, it turns out, was Laura’s money, which the police received from Dr. They traveled as far as Nigeria and Ikeji itself.
But rather than hiding in the dark like some dark criminal, Dr. Abulimhen presented himself as a cosmopolitan and businessman, rubbing shoulders with powerful Nigerian officials and international people. Until recently, for example, he ran a foundation that campaigned against gender-based violence.
Ironically, Ikeji also has a foundation to help Nigerians, and according to the British police, some of Laura’s stolen funds went directly to this organization.
A UK court has returned to Laura more than £113,000 in Dr. Martins Abhulimhen was frozen, but Laura was told that any criminal investigation into his case would need to be led by Romanian authorities.
Laura’s case may be extreme, but it is not unique. Romance and investment scams are on the rise worldwide, as organized crime organizations realize that online fraud can be a profitable, easy, and relatively safe way to make millions.
The FBI’s Internet Crime Complaint Center consistently ranks romance scams among the costliest forms of cybercrime, while UK victims lost more than £92 million to romance fraud in 2023 alone.
Whether Ikeji or Dr. It is not yet clear whether the Bulimen will face justice. But at least one fake prince has discovered that his Nigerian mansion offers more sanctuary than he bargained for.
