A Letter To The Nigerian Prince That Will Split His $10 Million Inheritance With Me
I am finally ready for the money transfer.
Dear Nigerian Prince,
Since your distress signal a couple of months ago, our bond has grown stronger with each email. How could I refuse to join hands with you? You are kindhearted, selfless and of royal decent — plus, offering a 50–50 split of your deceased grandfather’s $10 million uninvested capital.
Finally, I am ready for the money transfer. My Nigerian bank account is up and running and I am certain it will throw your political enemies off the scent of the inheritance money.
Thankfully your bank manager friend created an investment account for me in a matter of minutes. All I had to do was to transfer my pension fund and reply to three simple questions:
- “Do you accept our terms and conditions?”
- “What are your Golden American Express card details?”
- “What is your mother’s maiden name?”
I am so impressed by the Nigerian efficiency.
While I am waiting for the money to arrive, I followed your advice and I started investing my share. The other day I FaceTimed your real estate broker to get informed about hidden opportunities in the Nigerian market. Apparently, there is an outlandish demand right now, so he encouraged me to buy first and overthink later. I am no sucker! So, I slid a few benjis in his pocket and I cemented my dibs on the best 32 condos of Lagos. All hail to the next AirBnb tycoon of Nigeria, baby!
Oh, did I told you about my new Bentley? When I saw the price of that puppy I dropped from my recliner. 300-BIG-ONES! But, how could I resist? Yours truly needed some extra style points to earn the respect of your regal social circle. Plus, your car salesman friend offered me a lifetime supply of tree-shaped car fresheners if I would pay up 15k. Who in their right mind would turn down such a bargain?
By the way, my daughter can’t stop raving about you walking here down the aisle in her wedding! We are so thankful that you recommended we move the whole thing to Nigeria. It would be impolite to decline having the wedding organized by the most acclaimed wedding planner of Nigeria, your lovely wife. Never let her leave your side, Prince! Especially when she can arrange such luxurious 500-people events with only a few thousand buckaroos as deposit.
Now I would never want you to think of me as racist but I have to ask. Do all Nigerians look so much alike? The bank manager, the real-estate broker, even the car dealership guy bear a striking resemblance with you. Have you checked if you are remote cousins or something? Even your wife looks like a spitting image of you with a blond wig. I am just curious, Prince. I do not wish to insult you, your other half or her hairdresser.
Closing this letter, the whole family is shaken by your father’s kidney condition. Thankfully a Nigerian website certified my son, Jacob, as a matching donor for him. This very morning we did our good deed and visited the Nigerian Kidney Donation Center — an impressively professional institution despite being located in the 2nd basement of a deserted building.
I hope Jacob’s kidney arrives in time. We all wish your father quick recovery.
Yours truly,
Gregory
P.S: Not trying to summon bad luck, but in case the inevitable happens during the surgery, we can split your father’s uninvested capital, too.
