The Most Fortunate Phone Call
Fahad took a deep breath as he listened to the phone on the other side of the connection ring. He scanned his script, mentally preparing to launch right into his practiced speech.
“Hello, this is Bahati, how may I help you?”
The voice was soft, breathy, one of the most angelic voices that Fahad had ever heard. He could not place the woman’s accent, but Fahad was instantly smitten.
He forced his attention back to the task at hand, and launched into his script:
“Hello ma’am, my name is Brad and I work for Microsoft. We have detected some dangerous viruses on your computer and I need to help you remove these malicious programs from your computer today.”
Fahad hated his job. An honest man at heart, he was uncomfortable with the inherent dishonesty of hacking. But the hard truth was that in his village his choices were limited. He could farm, working from dawn to long past dusk just to scrape a bare, inadequate living out of a few goats and chickens, waiting to see what would carry him off first, starvation or hypothermia. Or he could work for this overseas company that paid enough money to put food in his belly and warmth in his hut. It was not a difficult decision.
The beautiful voice on the other end of the line spoke,
“Thank you so much, Brad! What do you need from me to fix my computer?”
Fahad sighed to himself. People were just too trusting.
He explained to his newfound love that she would need to go to a website he would provide so that he could access her computer. He reassured her that this would take only about 30 minutes, then her computer would be as good as new. As she docily followed his every instruction, he struggled with the thought that he was pulling her passwords and credit card information, sowing the seeds of her future unhappiness.
If she knew he was impersonating a Microsoft employee and stealing all of her personal information under the ruse of fixing her computer, she would hate him. He felt like a monster but, in truth, he had nothing to offer a woman. She could never love him anyway, so he might as well carry on.
But every time Bahati spoke he felt a tingle, an electric charge that he wished with all his heart was pure, unmixed with guilt.
About 20 minutes in, Fahad had pulled just about all the information he needed. His last step was to plant a trojan horse on the computer so that he could continue to siphon data from the computer for many months to come.
Suddenly he realized he could hear little sniffling sounds coming through his headset. Was she weeping?
He was concerned. “Ma’am, are you okay?”
It took a moment for the woman to compose herself, then she spoke.
“I am so sorry, you are so kind to help me with my computer. This has just not been a good time in my family. My father died recently.”
Fahad felt guiltier than ever.
“I am very sorry for your loss!” He hastened to add, “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
Her words were choked out between sobs.
“You are so kind! I do have a problem, but it will be okay. If I can find the right person to help me with it, everything will work out.”
“Maybe I can help,” Fahad said urgently, willing to do anything short of removing the trojan horse.
She spoke,
“Again, you are so kind Brad. You see, my father was the Minister of Oil here in Nigeria. He had a kind heart and wanted to establish an orphanage for the children left behind after the war. Because he knew the government was corrupt, he hid away 15 million dollars in a secret bank account to fund this orphanage. Sadly, he was assassinated before his dream could be realized. We, his family, want to honor him by building the orphanage, but for our safety, we cannot access this money directly. We must find a willing person in another country to act as my father’s heir so that we can get the money out of the country and start the orphanage that my father dreamt of. We are willing to give that person $5 million dollars for their help in moving the money into their personal bank account. I just do not know who will have a kind enough heart to help us.”
Fahad could not believe what he was hearing. Here he was, falling in love with this beautiful voice on the other end of the phone, and it turned out she needed his help — What incredible luck! He was about to become a hero to Bahati and at the same time make $5 million American dollars — he could leave this dishonest job behind, pursue Bahati (who would fall in love with him because he was the one who made her problems disappear), and spend the rest of his life building orphanages with the love of his life. This would more than make up for his days of enforced dishonesty in the call center.
As he finalized the stealing of the data from Bahati’s computer, Fahad spoke.
“I would be honored to help you! Please tell me what information you need from me.”
Fahad could not stop smiling. This had become the luckiest day of his life!
