4-1-9
Allow me to teach you a new expression: "4-1-9."
I heard some of the guys on the street shouting it today so I asked Efe what it means.
He explains:
"4-1-9 is the name of a scam Nigerians will pull when they travel abroad. It is named after the section in the Nigerian Criminal Code -- 419 -- under which you will get charged if you commit any sort of fraud crime in Nigeria."
I'm sorry, but I have a hard time believing how any native Nigerian -- save for the most naive of village simpletons -- could be swindled out of anything in Nigeria short of a pile of street dust. If you grew up in one of Nigeria's hulking cities, this is a lesson you learn early on in school. You hear of tales of swindle and lucre during dinner table chatter or in discussions at family gatherings, and these are hardly the stuff of legend. You are aware of the nature of Nigerian society, and are well-insulated from scams.
Now when I hear "4-1-9" in town, I'll know what's going down, or at least what's about to go down.
"4-1-9!"
A trio of Africans will tag team against a large crowd of drunken Brits, for example, angling on the leader of the wolf pack. They'll work him over with words, promises, and praise, gradually wearing him down, as he's normally the least drunk of the horde (well someone's got to be alert at the wheel), until he suddenly announces to this wandering drunken mob of yobs they'll be heading to such-such "bar" for the remainder of the evening. The Prague 4-1-9 scam begins on the strength of promises made by the African man on the street. What happens inside the club is the subject matter for an entirely different book.
I'm always stunned how they can do this, each and every time. Not impressed by the scam as much as I am by their dogged tenacity. People make light of the Africans' skill, but here why they shouldn't dismiss it:
Guts: it takes raw guts to approach complete strangers in the street with requests for anything. A fear and fatigue factor must kick in after a certain number of harsh, even racist, rejections, though that hardly seems to put a damper on the Africans' enthusiasm. They return, night after boring night to hammer away like boxers at their speed bags. As for their staying power? Simply remarkable. Anyone who criticizes what they do for a living without first having tried the job should challenge themselves for a night to see if they have what it takes. Despite the rough and tumble nature of the job profile, it's not about being rude and crude. There's a delicate artistry to it, as I've come to learn.
Perseverance: it takes a world of perseverance to hit the streets night after night without admitting humiliation into your thoughts. Even a man forced to accept a job he truly doesn't want to do -- thinking about the more educated Africans in the thicket -- eventually tires from the inanity of the work, in particular after being raked over the coals more times than he can count. The ability to "slough off" the heaped-on sarcastic scorn is quite a skill.
Perceptive abilities: the perceptive abilities of the average African street worker in Prague is infinitely more attuned than that of the comparative Czech office worker. It's because these Africans are busy! They don't waste a moment in eventually isolating a crowd's leader. Their inner radars are attuned to the slightest change in body language, eye movement, and they seem to possess a highly developed sense of when things are flowing smoothly. It comes from nights of practice, night after night, in all sorts of weather, without fail.
"Never say die:" The Africans I've met never say "die." The dearth of Czech employers prepared to take a chance on them in more dignified employment circles isn't something the Africans take lying down. They wear their pride on their sleeves. They continue to hustle, strive, and are passionate pursuers of a single cause -- to be solvent and secure enough before climbing to the next rung of accomplishment on the Prague career ladder. So they demonstrate their consummate skills in the areas presently permitted to them.
Resistance to cold: Northerners -- be ashamed at the Africans' resistance to the elements! It's mostly a matter of acclimatization, but after several months chasing down reluctant customers in sub-zero temperatures, they cease complaining about the cold and just knuckle down to get the job done. Perhaps the debate about which is the superior genetic model is now settled?
419's are indeed evil, though I've heard from not only Douh, but also from Efe and Mohammed and some of the other guys, how club owners will occasionally top that by double-crossing the roving promoters of their nightly takes. This has prompted the Africans to band together, working in close-knit teams and maintaining a cumulative "head count," which allows them to know -- down to the minute -- how many "incomings" the club owes them commissions for. I've even seen how they relay these details to each other by text within the confines of a specific sector over the course of a shift. Tourists to Prague would hardly suspect this exists.
I am hardly a advocate of people getting swindled, though I am slightly less than democratic in this regard when it comes to the drunken brutes who invade the city I live. I'm sure there are many Praguers who would agree with me on this score. Law enforcement is strict in the countries where they come from, so why do they toss their scruples out the window when touching down in Prague? Why do they strip down to their dirty drawers in sub-zero temperatures, howling to the moon like coyotes while hopped up on drugs and alcohol, then vomiting in the middle of the tourist district where people are enjoying their meal or sitting with their families and children?
As Douh tells me about some of the recent 419s he's witnessed, part of me inside is smiling.
(excerpted from A Sad and Tragic Tale of Mister Douh, by Adam Daniel Mezei)
I heard some of the guys on the street shouting it today so I asked Efe what it means.
He explains:
"4-1-9 is the name of a scam Nigerians will pull when they travel abroad. It is named after the section in the Nigerian Criminal Code -- 419 -- under which you will get charged if you commit any sort of fraud crime in Nigeria."
I'm sorry, but I have a hard time believing how any native Nigerian -- save for the most naive of village simpletons -- could be swindled out of anything in Nigeria short of a pile of street dust. If you grew up in one of Nigeria's hulking cities, this is a lesson you learn early on in school. You hear of tales of swindle and lucre during dinner table chatter or in discussions at family gatherings, and these are hardly the stuff of legend. You are aware of the nature of Nigerian society, and are well-insulated from scams.
Now when I hear "4-1-9" in town, I'll know what's going down, or at least what's about to go down.
"4-1-9!"
A trio of Africans will tag team against a large crowd of drunken Brits, for example, angling on the leader of the wolf pack. They'll work him over with words, promises, and praise, gradually wearing him down, as he's normally the least drunk of the horde (well someone's got to be alert at the wheel), until he suddenly announces to this wandering drunken mob of yobs they'll be heading to such-such "bar" for the remainder of the evening. The Prague 4-1-9 scam begins on the strength of promises made by the African man on the street. What happens inside the club is the subject matter for an entirely different book.
I'm always stunned how they can do this, each and every time. Not impressed by the scam as much as I am by their dogged tenacity. People make light of the Africans' skill, but here why they shouldn't dismiss it:
Guts: it takes raw guts to approach complete strangers in the street with requests for anything. A fear and fatigue factor must kick in after a certain number of harsh, even racist, rejections, though that hardly seems to put a damper on the Africans' enthusiasm. They return, night after boring night to hammer away like boxers at their speed bags. As for their staying power? Simply remarkable. Anyone who criticizes what they do for a living without first having tried the job should challenge themselves for a night to see if they have what it takes. Despite the rough and tumble nature of the job profile, it's not about being rude and crude. There's a delicate artistry to it, as I've come to learn.
Perseverance: it takes a world of perseverance to hit the streets night after night without admitting humiliation into your thoughts. Even a man forced to accept a job he truly doesn't want to do -- thinking about the more educated Africans in the thicket -- eventually tires from the inanity of the work, in particular after being raked over the coals more times than he can count. The ability to "slough off" the heaped-on sarcastic scorn is quite a skill.
Perceptive abilities: the perceptive abilities of the average African street worker in Prague is infinitely more attuned than that of the comparative Czech office worker. It's because these Africans are busy! They don't waste a moment in eventually isolating a crowd's leader. Their inner radars are attuned to the slightest change in body language, eye movement, and they seem to possess a highly developed sense of when things are flowing smoothly. It comes from nights of practice, night after night, in all sorts of weather, without fail.
"Never say die:" The Africans I've met never say "die." The dearth of Czech employers prepared to take a chance on them in more dignified employment circles isn't something the Africans take lying down. They wear their pride on their sleeves. They continue to hustle, strive, and are passionate pursuers of a single cause -- to be solvent and secure enough before climbing to the next rung of accomplishment on the Prague career ladder. So they demonstrate their consummate skills in the areas presently permitted to them.
Resistance to cold: Northerners -- be ashamed at the Africans' resistance to the elements! It's mostly a matter of acclimatization, but after several months chasing down reluctant customers in sub-zero temperatures, they cease complaining about the cold and just knuckle down to get the job done. Perhaps the debate about which is the superior genetic model is now settled?
419's are indeed evil, though I've heard from not only Douh, but also from Efe and Mohammed and some of the other guys, how club owners will occasionally top that by double-crossing the roving promoters of their nightly takes. This has prompted the Africans to band together, working in close-knit teams and maintaining a cumulative "head count," which allows them to know -- down to the minute -- how many "incomings" the club owes them commissions for. I've even seen how they relay these details to each other by text within the confines of a specific sector over the course of a shift. Tourists to Prague would hardly suspect this exists.
I am hardly a advocate of people getting swindled, though I am slightly less than democratic in this regard when it comes to the drunken brutes who invade the city I live. I'm sure there are many Praguers who would agree with me on this score. Law enforcement is strict in the countries where they come from, so why do they toss their scruples out the window when touching down in Prague? Why do they strip down to their dirty drawers in sub-zero temperatures, howling to the moon like coyotes while hopped up on drugs and alcohol, then vomiting in the middle of the tourist district where people are enjoying their meal or sitting with their families and children?
As Douh tells me about some of the recent 419s he's witnessed, part of me inside is smiling.
(excerpted from A Sad and Tragic Tale of Mister Douh, by Adam Daniel Mezei)