RUN AWAY FROM THIS SCAMMER

 

I’m Ikechukwu Frank. I live with a C4/C5 spinal cord injury, and I was scammed of ₦450,000 by someone claiming to secure a federal teaching job for my wife.

It all began on WhatsApp. He offered LASRRA processing, TRCN certificates, UK teaching jobs, and school licences—everything seemed official. I trusted him, sent my documents, and paid ₦250,000, then ₦200,000 more. The promised job never materialised. My wife resigned, and I am now repaying loans exceeding ₦800,000.

The scammer? Ohwokevwo Godfrey – 08104377199. If he can cheat a paralysed person, anyone is at risk. RUN. VERIFY. PROTECT YOURSELF.

As an African proverb warns: “He who digs a pit for another falls into it himself.” Do not let desperation cloud your judgment.

The story.

I can never forget that morning. It began like any other, yet it would become one of the most harrowing experiences of my life. My name is Ikechukwu Frank, and I live with a C4/C5 spinal cord injury—a reality that has already made life a daily challenge. I am cautious, deliberate, and careful in all matters, especially financial. Yet, in a moment of trust, I was defrauded of ₦450,000, and the ripple effects have been devastating, both financially and emotionally.

It all began with a seemingly harmless conversation on WhatsApp. I reached out, hoping for assistance with my LASRRA application. “Good day, sir,” I typed. His reply was immediate and polite, “Good afternoon.”

I explained my request. “I had you could help me with my LASRRA.”

His response was nonchalant but professional: “Is it urgent?”

“No,” I replied.

“Alright. 20,000 only,” he said.

From that moment, the conversation began a twisted dance of negotiation, misdirection, and deception. I tried to clarify the fees and timelines. “How much last?” I asked.

He insisted, “Non-negotiable.”

I tried to reason. “It’s just that I can go there… is the processing automatic?”

He replied, “Let me give you 10k. I’m doing for two.”

I paused. His insistence, the back-and-forth, and his refusal to adjust prices should have been warning enough. “Non-negotiable,” he repeated, “A week is enough.”

“So I can get it on Tuesday next week?” I pressed.

“On Monday,” he replied without hesitation.

As the conversation deepened, he began presenting himself as an authority on multiple certificates and services: TRCN certificates and licences, QTS-UK teaching certification, IELT, CICLT, UCMAS, WES evaluation, and more. He listed dozens of opportunities, jobs, and certifications, all appearing legitimate to someone desperate to secure opportunities in education and abroad.

I sent him my documents: CV, passport, NIN. I asked about school licensing, CAC certificates, and the state-level approvals required to operate. He gave specific prices: ₦60,000 for a school licence, ₦24,000 for CAC. I began to feel the strain of the cost, but he dismissed any negotiation. “I don’t negotiate. It is my job.”

The tension escalated as I tried to reconcile the promises with the fees. “Today is Monday, and I didn’t get the LASRRA,” I pressed.

“Yes,” he replied casually, “I tried. The system is busy. It is their problem.”

I demanded a refund. “Oga, deliver what I paid you for or return my money,” I wrote.

His reply was evasive. “Forward your utility bill… I will try to use mine for your TRCN.”

Even at this stage, I should have sensed the trap. But desperation clouds judgment. I continued, hoping for resolution.

Eventually, he presented the “opportunity” I had been seeking: a federal teaching job for my wife. The fee? ₦450,000. I was hesitant. “It is too much,” I said.

His response was ruthless: “If it is cheap, everybody should have gotten it before you came. I will not take even 420,000. I know the work I will put into it. Non-negotiable.”

Despite my doubts, I sent ₦250,000 from borrowed funds. “Can your wife resume work next month?” I asked.

He promised accommodation and an appointment letter upon full payment. Then, the excuses began: clearance officers, additional fees, bureaucratic delays, all designed to extract more money.

I sent another ₦200,000 to cover these “unexpected” demands. The total now was ₦450,000, and the promised job never materialised. The person, Ohwokevwo Godfrey, vanished into thin air, leaving me financially crippled and emotionally wounded. My wife had resigned from her previous employment in anticipation of this new opportunity. The fallout was catastrophic. I now struggle to repay loans taken to fund the scam, with interest exceeding ₦800,000.

The sting of betrayal cuts deeper because I am already vulnerable. A C4/C5 spinal cord injury confines me, making life physically challenging. Trust is hard-earned for someone in my position, yet he exploited it. African wisdom says, “He who digs a pit for another falls into it himself.” But in this case, he left me in the pit he dug for himself while he walked away unscathed in the world’s eyes.

Throughout this ordeal, I kept asking myself: How could a person defraud another, knowing the physical and emotional limitations they face? Yet the Bible reminds us: “The Lord is known by the judgment he executeth: the wicked is snared in the work of his own hands” (Psalm 9:16, KJV). I handed the matter to God because I knew justice in human terms might never come.

The lessons were bitter, yet clear. Trust must be weighed carefully, particularly when large sums of money and official documents are involved. As Proverbs 14:15 (KJV) warns, “The simple believeth every word: but the prudent man looketh well to his going.” I had been too trusting, too eager to see results, and too ready to believe the polished words of a stranger.

Another bitter truth: greed and corruption are everywhere. He painted a picture of bureaucracy, insisting on additional fees for clearance and approvals. In reality, none of the work existed; it was all smoke and mirrors. The scam relied on psychological pressure—urgency, authority, and the lure of foreign employment—to trap me. “When two dogs fight for a bone, a third runs away with it,” goes the African proverb. In this case, I was the dog fighting for the bone of opportunity, while he ran away with both my money and my peace.

Even now, the emotional trauma lingers. My wife’s career was disrupted, my finances shattered, and my trust in people is forever altered. Yet in the midst of despair, I find solace in scripture: “And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not” (Galatians 6:9, KJV). This is not merely a story of victimhood; it is a warning and a guide. Every believer, every vulnerable person, must learn from this account to avoid similar fates.

I share this with the world not to invoke pity, but to arm others with wisdom. If someone claims they can secure government jobs, certificates, or foreign opportunities for an upfront fee, approach with caution. Demand verifiable documentation, official communication, and tangible proof before any financial commitment. Remember the African saying: “A man who uses his eyes to cry never sees a village he can ask for help.” In simpler terms, do not rely solely on trust or appearances; verify everything.

I will never forget Ohwokevwo Godfrey. His phone number—08104377199—remains a stark warning. If he can defraud a person with a severe physical limitation, then no one is safe. The world is fraught with cunning opportunists who prey on the desperate and the trusting.

Yet, there is hope. I have chosen not to dwell in anger but to channel this experience into lessons for others. I have publicly shared this account to educate, warn, and prevent others from falling victim. The Bible reminds us in Proverbs 22:3 (KJV): “A prudent man foreseeth the evil, and hideth himself: but the simple pass on, and are punished.” My pain is now a lantern to illuminate the path for others, ensuring they do not stumble where I did.

As I reflect, I realise that trials, even when inflicted by human wickedness, can strengthen faith. I have surrendered this matter to God, believing in divine justice: “Say not thou, I will recompense evil; but wait on the LORD, and he shall save thee” (Proverbs 20:22, KJV). I leave the matter in God’s hands, knowing that He sees all and judges righteously.

Let this story serve as a lesson, a warning, and a call to vigilance. Verify credentials, question non-negotiable fees, and never allow desperation to cloud judgment. Most importantly, remember that God sees in secret: no deceit goes unnoticed, no act of injustice is beyond His attention. I am scarred financially and emotionally, but I am not broken spiritually. My faith remains, my resolve strengthened, and my mission to educate others unwavering.

May those who read this exercise caution, wisdom, and discernment. May you be protected from those who masquerade as helpers but are predators. As for me, I continue to trust God’s provision and justice, knowing that “the Lord trieth the righteous: but the wicked and him that loveth violence his soul hateth” (Psalm 11:5, KJV).

I share this experience not only as a testimony of caution but also as a reminder that even in the darkest human deceit, God’s light remains. Let the deceit of men strengthen your vigilance and sharpen your discernment. And remember, no man can escape divine judgement; those who wrong others will answer before God.

If you are reading this, learn from my loss. Avoid Ohwokevwo Godfrey at all costs. Run, do not walk. Protect your finances, your peace, and your dignity. And above all, trust in God’s justice rather than the empty promises of men.