Chapter 1
JUNE 12, 2008
…it was a Tuesday morning. I was supposed to resume work in the City at 1300 hours. Earlier in the day, and typical of most of my Tuesdays, I go to a Boot Sale market for bargains, a hobby I picked up a while ago, and that day was no different. I got back home around 0900 hours, packed my car infront of the house, and went in.
With benefit of hindsight, there must have been plain cloth policemen lurking and hanging around, and most likely all over the place. After all, they must have been keeping some vigil over my movement for what now seemed like ages over the past few months, building a profile of my movements and anything having to do with my person, and possibly my schedule.
However, I would not have noticed anything since I was focusing on just getting back home, and get ready for work, and of course, straight into the bathroom I went.
Then came these incessant slashing of the letterbox together with a string of continuous knockings of the outer door. As a matter of fact, it was more of banging on the front door, except furiously. The usually smooth door bell sound was continuously ringing. While I was initially ignoring the calls, I had to come out, and dash into the bedroom to check on what might be happening outside since at that point in time, it had become an unusual and irritating situation.
Then I saw three plain-cloth guys by the door, and noticed quite a number of strange cars outside, and almost everywhere. To be candid, my heart jumped! I just imagined…who are these people?
Then from the bedroom window, I muttered something like “I am coming”, and went STRAIGHT down to get the door opened, and they were let into the porch where a brief introduction took place. After confirming my identity, I deliberately invited them into the landing as I do not want any scene…more so that I do not know exactly why they were visiting my address nor what it was all about.
“Do you know anything about “NatWest3.com ?” was the next statement.
Of course I know more than enough, and perhaps more than an average person about the subject bothering around NatWest 3 / http://www.natwest3.com.
In affirmation, I replied Yes. What about it please? One of them replied, and murmured inaudibly, “That’s good”.
Then we all moved into the ground-floor landing, where further conversation ensued.
What I would have loved to do was to invite them into the sitting room to “lecture” them on their subject of interest. However, this was done while we were in the landing area of the ground floor. I had to tell them the story, not minding the observation that they seem not that interested in my story or revelation
The simple fact of the complex story is that between 2001 and 2002, I was massively involved in the re-installation of the emails [ technically known as .pst files ] the Three British Bankers [aka NatWest 3] deleted before they resigned their appointment one after the other at the then Greenwich NatWest [RBS]. This was after having concluded the business deals that was suspected to have played some insignificant but well document part in the collapse of Enron, that defunct American energy company.
However, while we were all standing by the landing end of the stairs, I took them on to tell the story of how http://www.natwest3.com had come into being, and further informed them, I also had http://www.natwest3.org registered as well.
They asked why did I have to register the domains. I explained to them that owning a domain is a big bigness. You may decide to sell your domain to a prospective customer for financial returns, and in addition to that, in this case, I decided to register the domains with a forward thinking view, just in case, and down the line, there may come up an idea for a movie on the NatWest 3 and the domains may be sought for a purchase. Otherwise, I might be needing same as a vehicle for the e-book publication of my memoir on the project.
Need I say they were not enthused in the least.They had an agenda, a script they were following and executing.
Then came the bombshell of a question “Do you know what phishing is…?”
Of course, I do. I am an IT professional. I explained what phishing is all about to the very best of my knowledge and understanding. At that point in time, a thought ran through my mind…”www.natwest3.com”…”phishing”…Does it mean I am involved in such practise as a result of my ownership of the domains, or someone has been using my registered domains to perpetuate the act of “phishing”?
Then one of the lads retorted” Since you know that much, we however have a search warrant to conduct a search on your property [or premises…something like that…]…and then went on to read that usual senselessly useless stuff …”you do not have to say anything…[meanwhile I have said much already]…as anything you say may be counted against you…”.
I was asked to sign on the dotted line, but then, one of them retorted, whether ‘you sign or not, we already have a search warrant on your property anyway’.
So…”phishing”…’search warrant’…I was lost. …I did not understand…
However, I have absolutely nothing to hide. But then, I was being gradually subjected to a state of total and complete helplessness. I felt the process of being stripped bare was starting to emerge. But then there was nothing I could do anyway, in spite of the anger brewing in me. When five able bodied plain cloth policemen, dressed in mufti with terribly looking shoes descended on you, you are helpless. As a matter of fact, you are subjected to their mercy in spite of whatever their mission might be.
They were that brutally and mercilessly audacious. Frankly, I do not dislike them. Listen, I hate them with passion, and this in the knowledge that I am a Christian. Whatever respect I have for the institution they represent was dead, incinerated, and buried that day. The fact is when they zero in on you, its with the aim to break you totally and completely. They take you through a nasty mental, and psychological turture. If you are unlucky, physical turture might be part and parcel of the package.
The primary genesis of why they had found their way to my house is because I was one of the duo that project managed the restoration of the emails those three NatWest guys deleted before they resigned their appointment from the Greenwich NatWest arm of NatWest Bank. I am reiterating this as it’s going to play a significant part of the story down the line. Need I say they would not in the least believe my story ?
The Enron Scandal together with the NatWest Three was one of the biggest scandals that had a reverberation and ripples effect all around the world, and here is one black guy giving us a cock and bull story of his involvement in producing the rock solid massive evidence the American Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) needed to convict the culprits…Nayyyy… That was obviously their disposition while the ordeal was unfolding.
The fact is knowledge and wisdom is no respecter of size, colour, or race. That was apologetically beyond their reasoning faculty if at all they had any. A state of shock was setting in. I felt like being raped. I was afraid. I felt angry. I felt caged. I was confused. I was highly intimidated. I felt helpless to say the least. Several thoughts was crampling my brain, and just couldn’t figure out things any more.
It may not be politically correct, the fact is we are in a police state. Ethnicity is in the equation. Period. You do not have to like it, but that is the bitter truth !
One of them was painstakingly and meticulously looking through the pile of mails / letters and documents on the stairs while the interrogation was going on. Then came a particular envelope of interest addressed to very close friend of mine. It was an envelope from DVLA with Kayode’s licence which was having to do with the need to have the picture on his driving licence changed / replaced. This was later going to be carted away with some other “exhibits”.
When asked who Kayode was, I was at that point boiling with anger, and retorted, “If that guy had not been cheated out of the governorship election in one of the states in Nigeria, it’s more than likely I will not be here by now, and you would be having no chance of subjecting me to these humiliating treatment”.
I led them upstairs, showed them the bedrooms and the respective occupants, the master bedroom, the children’s, as well as the study. While in the study, I was asked questions on the user / usage of the various desktops and had to confirm that I was the sole user. There were three desktops in the study, and another unit in my daughter’s bedroom. That was of no interest to them. I was then marched back downstairs into the sitting room where one of them stayed with me, asking me soft loads of conversational questions, and at one point, I asked to be allowed to call, and inform my wife who was at work that morning. I also asked them if they would be kind enough to allow me to inform my employers on what was going on. To this request, the guy said there was no need as I will have sufficient time to go to work thereafter. It turned out to be a lie. You do not expect them to be honest, do you ? Of course, one will be super daft to believe them.
And then some form of gagging started. As I could not get “babe’” [ my wife’s pet name ], I was trying to leave some relevant message on her answer phone, and the so called officer jumped in that “NO …you must not say anything…!”
I then asked to be allowed to call and inform my Pastor. I need to call someone at least, such that if anything will happen to me, I will at the very least not be cheated to death. It’s no secret that several black / ethnic minority people had died in the past while having encounters with these terrible people. The guy “guarding” me would more or less not budge. I was getting furious. Getting furiously angry for so many reasons…
I was getting irritated for the dumbness of the detectives in the sense that any fool could have done “whois” on any domain to see who owns / registered such domain. So it’s no brainer in the least to think because I registered the domain in question I was using the same to perpetuate any crime, and in any case I was not.
Secondly I was supposed to be getting ready for work, and these guys were not interested in the fact I had a contractual obligation to my employers. Selfishness was the order of that moment. And they were disastrously wrong. I am the wrong person. They were dumb with and in their investigations prior to their coming to my house. I do not want to imagine the amount of man-hours they had wasted in their covert operations and the several days and nights during which they were monitoring my going out, and coming in. After all, that’s’s not my headache but their problem. They thrive on a life laden with problems. That had been their portion from time immemoriam.
I was getting terribly furious because if these detectives were as expected to be brilliant detectives, they must have been monitoring my movement for ages and again with hindsight, they had done that for ages as I later realised with cars packed opposite my house several nights, strange vehicle around my house at odd hours of the day and night especially, they ought to have the profile of my movement documented, and recorded. A subsequent analysis of such would probably have proven to them to a very extent that there is nothing to pursue, and waste taxpayers’ money on.
Also, my bank accounts would have been checked to see if there had been any unusually large amounts of deposits over a period of time. Meanwhile, the car I was driving would not have been a pointer as there was absolutely nothing expensive or flashy about it. As a matter fact, it was not the most of the brand that can be flaunted anywhere. Yearly MOT was constantly preceded by massive repairs for it to go through. It’s not that I do not love to drive a respectable brand, the fact is I could not afford one, and more so that I hate being in debt. I am someone who simply does not believe in credit facilities, financing of virtual lifestyles, etc. These would have been some of the indices I would have expected of what such a supposedly intelligent organization taking delight in invading and shredding the privacy of my family to have checked.
While I was kept under guard, strings of thought were running up and down my mind…I simply wish these so called detectives realised how soft, gentle, easy-going, harmless, decent and a thorough professional I am…how all I believe in is working hard as well as working smart, and most importantly, the fact that one does not know anything about the suspected “fraud” does not mean one might be found innocent terrified me! My thinking was being tortured, and severely too.
I have worked in a Collocation / Co-hosting environment where in the past, Computer Severs have been compromised without the awareness of the engineers until the customers of such server raised an alarm / alert that their Server has been compromised because they have spotted unusual file, unusual operations, etc, etc. I have seen compromised servers in the past being used to operate “Chat lines”, and we never knew until an alert was raised.
Meanwhile, such environment is normally a high fortified, and ringfenced one with layers and layers of series of firewalls. But then it’s still possible to be compromised….Could it be possible that one of my desktops have been compromised without my knowledge? God forbid. That thought alone was gradually subjecting me to a series of unimaginable psychological torture.
There was no way those detectives would have bought my story of innocence based on such theory! Let’s face it, the only piece of evidence upon which they invaded my property had been as a result of “whois http://www.natwest3.com”, which any fool could do, and now I want to explain to them the theories and mechanics of server compromise? No way in this world would they listen to my story.
…a true life story to be continued in further chapters in a book to be published.
eaglepacks 