‘Hustling Kingdom’: The Rise of Internet Fraudsters in South-South Nigeria
A young Kelvin carries multiple identities. Today, he’s Kelvin, but that might change tomorrow, depending on the identity game he’s up to. For at least 14 hours a day, he describes himself as “Richard”, a stranded American engineer needing financial help from a sympathetic woman he met on a dating site. He’s always glued to his laptop, scheming to swindle his next target in his many romance tricks.
Kelvin lives in a community in Asaba, South-South Nigeria.
For him, the end justifies the means, as long as he amasses enough wealth to fund his exorbitant lifestyle. Internet fraud, colloquially known as Yahoo-Yahoo, is his ticket to the flashy cars and designer clothes he sees flaunted by mentors in “HK” – the local term for the Hustling Kingdom, a structured network of internet fraudsters in the state.
Just a few kilometres away, a mechanics workshop stands half-empty. Togolese artisan, Awe Gao, wipes grease from his hands and shakes his head. “Where are the Nigerian boys?” he asks. “Before, this workshop was full of apprentices. Now, they all want quick money from the internet. They call this ‘Yahoo’, saying it is better than dirty hands.”
This is the new reality in Nigeria’s oil-rich South-South region. A generation of young men is abandoning traditional vocations such as furniture making, tiling, automobile mechanics, and welding for the seductive, high-reward world of cybercrime. This mass gravitation is not just a social ill; it is creating a dangerous security vacuum, crippling the local skilled workforce, and ceding vital trades to a steady influx of skilled migrants from Togo and the Benin Republic.
Nigeria has an unemployment problem, and young people are desperately looking for an alternative way to make a living. While many have chosen artisanship to overcome their employment plight, others are resorting to cybercrime. With many youths taking pride in internet fraud as a way of life, Nigeria ranks 5th in the global report on sources of cybercrime activities, trailing behind Russia, Ukraine, China, and the United States.
A report by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) documented a significant increase in conviction numbers between 2020 (976) and 2022 (3,785), with a high percentage of these related to cybercrime, such as obtaining by trickery and impersonation. The EFCC authorities noted that, in 2022, the country lost over $500 million to cybercrimes, which contributes to the nation’s reputation as a significant source of cybercrime globally.
While the EFCC claims to have improved measures to curb cybercrimes in Nigeria, the institution has been accused of being overhand in handling suspects and focusing too much on internet fraudsters rather than corrupt public officials and politicians. The agency has, however, defended its actions, stating that internet fraud is a major crisis linked to more serious crimes.
“I want Nigerians to know that we are having a crisis on our hands. If you travel abroad with your green passport and stand in the queue among so many people, you will discover that by the time you present the passport, the people [immigration officers] will look at you with some reservation,” said Olanipekun Olukoyede, the EFCC chairman. “That is, if they don’t take you aside to carry out some special scrutiny. That is a national shame that some young Nigerians [yahoo-yahoo boys] have caused us.”
The cybercrime problem seems to carry a different weight in the South-South region, with many young people leaving artisanship for internet fraud. HumAngle spoke to multiple sources, including self-confessing internet fraudsters, cybercrime experts, and community leaders, to unravel the dangerous escapades of youths making internet scams a way of life in the region. The reporting revealed how youths have chosen to enrol in criminal hubs where they learn to swindle people online. One such criminal enterprise is HK, a sophisticated ecosystem operating on a structured mentorship model, where an established fraudster houses and trains five to fifteen apprentices.
“My Oga taught me everything,” explains Kelvin, who dropped out of a polytechnic where he was studying electrical engineering. “How to use VPN, how to create a fake profile, how to talk to these white women, how to make a sad story. For three months, I was just learning. Now, I run my own operations and give him 20 per cent of my ‘hit’.”
The training is rigorous. Recruits are schooled in the psychology of manipulation, the technology of anonymity, and the financial logistics of moving illicit funds. They learn to target vulnerable individuals abroad through romance scams and email compromises.
Another cybercrime apprentice, Franca, 24, from Warri, serves as a “picker,” using her female identity to receive funds through her bank account: “At first, I was doing it to survive after my NYSC. No job. But the money is fast. One transaction can give you what a hair stylist will earn in six months. Why would I learn a trade that pays peanuts?”
The consequence of this mass shift is starkly visible in the region’s industrial and commercial layouts. Workshops that once buzzed with the sounds of apprentices learning a trade now operate below capacity.
“Look around,” says Chinedu Okoro, the owner of an automobile spare parts shop in Benin. “The Togolese and Beninois are taking over because they are willing to learn. Our youths see manual labour as punishment. They point to the ‘Yahoo boy’ with a new iPhone and say, ‘That is my target’. We are losing our capacity for production and becoming a society of scammers.”
The region is becoming dependent on foreign nationals for essential services and skilled labour, from building houses to repairing vehicles. This creates economic leakage and reduces local resilience. Contrary to the illusion of widespread success, only a fraction of internet fraudsters make significant money. The majority live in precarious uncertainty. The abandonment of viable vocational paths means a growing pool of unemployed, frustrated youth who have invested their formative years in a criminal enterprise with a short shelf life.
As competition intensifies, many fraudsters are turning to money rituals, known as “Yahoo Plus”, incorporating spiritualists and, alarmingly, resorting to violence for “quick money”. This has contributed to a spike in mysterious killings and kidnappings, with body parts sometimes linked to ritual demands for “cyber charms”.
For 19-year-old Daniel from Bayelsa, the choice was simple. His father was a renowned welder, but he watched him struggle financially for years.
“My father’s hands were rough, his back was bent, but at the end of the month, what did he have? Nothing,” Daniel says. “Then I saw my cousin from the same HK. In one year, he built a house for his mother. He drives a Lexus. My father’s workshop is now closed. I am his only hope, and this laptop is my tool.”
Ufoma Ighadalo, 27, told a similar story. His father worked for 35 years for the Delta State government and retired as a school principal. Within that period, he could only build one house at Ughell, Delta State, and buy an old Peugeot car.
“He trained five of us at the university level. But I don’t consider him a success,” Ufoma says in a conspiratorial voice. “In this line of business, I will achieve what my father achieved in less than two years. I already have a house of my own and a car as well. I plan to build my second house here in Asaba before the end of this year. Who says hustling doesn’t pay?”
This narrative is repeated across the region. The tangible, delayed gratification of vocational work cannot compete with social media’s viral, glamorous portrayal of cybercrime success. The HK offers money and an identity of instant wealth and societal validation.
Community leaders and security analysts warn that the situation is a ticking time bomb. “When you disconnect a generation from productive labour and orient them towards predatory online activities, you create a profound societal crisis,” notes Chioma Emenike, an Asaba-based sociologist. “We are nurturing a generation that believes wealth comes not from creating value, but from clever exploitation. The long-term effect on our social fabric and security architecture is devastating.”
Experts argue that the solution must be multi-pronged: aggressive vocational reorientation, government-driven investment in the digital economy to create legitimate tech jobs, and severe enforcement against the kingpins of the HK networks.
But for now, in the half-empty workshops of the South-South, the sounds of learning hammers and revving engines are being replaced by the silent, desperate click of keyboards, as a generation chooses the elusive kingdom of fraud over the solid foundation of a skilled trade.
