Fake Dubai Crown Prince tracked to Nigerian mansion after $2.5M romance scam

An investigation has tracked down a sophisticated scammer who posed as Dubai's Crown Prince in a succesful plot to defraud a Romanian businesswoman out of over US $2.5 million.

That in itself, sadly, is probably not that shocking a story. But what the Organised Crime and Corruption Reporting Project (OCCRP) discovered was that in this particular case the perpetrators presented themselves in the public eye as philanthropists, while secretly destroying victims' lives.

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 Crown Prince of Dubai.

The man said that he wanted her assistance in investing a large amount fo money in a humanitarian foundation in Romania. What followed was a textbook example of how modern romance scams can operate.

Over the next two years, the pair exchanged thousands of messages as a virtual romance developed. Meanwhile, Laura met a man who claimed to be the "Prince's financial manager" in London, where she was given login credentials to a bank account showing a deposit of over £200 million. The banking website was, of course, an elaborate fake.

Fortuitously, a friend of Laura's had helpfully photographed her meeting the "financial manager" - a snap that would later prove crucial.

Laura tried to withdraw funds from the account, only to receive demands for large fees to release "the Prince's funds." As Laura had already sent hundreds of thousands of dollars to her online beau, she kept on paying, believing that it was the only way to recover her money.

In total, she sent over US $2.5 million before realising that she had fallen victim to a con.

But things were not to go all the scammer's way. The fake prince had partners helping move the money, but they fell out over how the spoils of the scam should be divided. Ultimately they made contact with Laura, exposing the fraud and revealing the fake prince's real name: Nzube Henry Ikeji.

Laura was also sent videos of Ikeji at his newly-purchased mansion in Abuja, Nigeria.

Armed with this information, reporters from OCCRP travelled to Nigeria to track the scammer down.

Nigeria does not have extensive Google Street View coverage or complete property registries, and so OCCRP's Chikezie Omeje resorted to old-fashioned methods to locate Ikeji's mansion - spending days driving around Abuja until he found the matching mansion.

Meanwhile, the photograph taken by Laura's friend in London was shared with British police, who recognised the "financial manager" as Dr. Martins Abhulimhen, who they had coincidentally been investigating over suspicious bank transactions. These transactions, it transpired, were Laura's money, which police traced from Dr. Abhulimhen all the way to Nigeria and Ikeji himself.

But rather than hiding in the darkness like some shadowy criminal, Dr. Abhulimhen presented himself as a globe-trotting philanthropist and businessman, rubbing shoulders with powerful Nigerian officials and international figures. Until recently, for instance, he ran a foundation which campaigned against gender-based violence.

Bizarrely, Ikeji also runs a Nigerian humanitarian foundation, and according to British police some of Laura's stolen funds went directly to this charity.

A UK court has since returned to Laura over £113,000from Dr. Martins Abhulimhen's frozen bank accounts, but Laura has been told that any criminal investigation into her case would need to be led by Romanian authorities.

Laura's case may be extreme, but it's far from unique. Romance and investment scams have escalated worldwide, with organised crime syndicates recognising that online fraud can be a lucrative, easy, and comparatively safe way to make millions.

The FBI's Internet Crime Complaint Center consistently ranks romance scams amongst the costliest forms of cybercrime, whilst UK victims lost over £92 million to romance fraud in 2023 alone.

Whether Ikeji or Dr. Abhulimhen will face justice remains unclear. But at least one fake prince has discovered that his Nigerian mansion offers rather less sanctuary than he had hoped.