Meet Alex Otieno – successful businessman, happily married with kids, goes to church every Sunday, and drives a gleaming Toyota 4x4.
Every evening on his way back home, he stops by the "Simmers" bar for a drink. It’s been his favorite bar since university days.

Ah, the open air Simmers bar, located bang in the heart of downtown Nairobi.
When the sun shines it pretends to be an up market bar – but turns delightfully seedy as darkness falls.
Sweet n’ loose women hiss nasty little secrets from dark corners;
tiresome Euro-trash hits make way for Kenyan hiphop and ndombolo;
torpid waiters transform into bouncers who look like game show hosts;
somber discussions are replaced by the frenzy of free-flowing alcohol, and the gyrations of nubile hips and buttocks.
It’s a bottom-feeder’s Shangri-La.

But, Alex isn’t in Simmers for any of its off-the-rack delights – he usually leaves before sunset.

It was like any other week day, a few officious types hung around, quietly swallowing their beers. Alex wouldn’t have noticed the two smartly dressed, suit-clad, gents on the table behind him – had they not been talking in surreptitious whispers.

He heard snatches of it, and was intrigued.
Something about diamonds, and one of the men (the one with the heavy gold bracelet) knew a trucker who was bringing a bunch of them from Congo.
But there was a problem; they needed to produce a large chunk of money upfront to buy the stones from the trucker. Something in the region of a few million shillings – problem was, they were exactly a million and a half short.

Interest piqued, Alex heard a bit more.
A mysterious third person: “Salalem”, was apparently willing to pay gold bracelet (“Goldie”) and his pal (“Jimmy”) a huge amount to get rid of the diamonds. A sum that was ten times of what they would pay the errant Congolese truck driver.

Then Alex saw them leaving. A small window of opportunity -- and he decided to grab it.

Intercepting the men on foot, he tells them:
Excuse me, but I couldn’t help overhearing you fellers. I think can help you chaps out.
They look annoyed – hey man, we don’t need no help, get lost.
Alex persists – Listen! I can help you out with the dough.
The men confer for a few minutes – arguing with each other:
We don’t know this guy! Can we trust him? But we really need this deal, and so on.
Finally:
OK dude, we need the money right now, can you produce it?

Here is where Alex plays his trump card.
Recently he’d sold off a huge tract of ancestral property along Lake Victoria. Out of that, a couple of million shillings (~$27,000) lay locked away in his office safe.
OK men, he says, mikasa sukasa: I get you the cash you need, you cut me in on the deal with “Salalem”.

A frantic conference ensues, finally, Goldie and Jimmy reluctantly concede.

Muchas gracias.
Alex manages to work out a very favorable deal – he is pushy and the men are desperate.
It’s a cinch – he invests a million and a half and gets an enormous return that resembles one of those long distance telephone sex numbers.
Alex is already dreaming about upgrading his Toyota to a Range Rover (Alex fancies the Range Rover HSE – popularly known as the “HOUSE”).

Goldie and Jimmy have a few sample diamonds, and they want to show it to Salalem – so that he can evaluate the cost and workout a deal.
Alex insists he’ll produce the money only upon seeing the diamonds – and confirming the deal.
Sure, no problem bro, they say, just stick with us.
They pile into a chauffeur driven executive taxi, and head for the Hilton hotel.

Five minutes later.

In one of the luxury suites, Alex meets “Salalem”.
Salalem is a corpulent, middle-aged Caucasian, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, and dressed in an immaculately tailored Saville-Row suit – sufficient to impress even the most laidback observer.
Introductions are made – Bwana Salalem is a “kubwa sanaa“[“very big”] Lebanese diamond trader from Brussels. Expensive wine is ordered and business proceeds.
Goldie brings out a small satin bag – and produces four small gleaming stones from it.

They wait.
Salalem carefully examines the diamonds using a variety of instruments that emerge from a magic briefcase.
“Very goooood!! Very goooood!!” he repeats – clearly impressed by the quality of the diamonds.
They strike a deal.
The numbers make Alex’s eyes burn – Salalem is willing to pay them fifteen times the amount they are paying the Congolese trucker – and the four stones alone, are worth over three million shillings.
“But….” Salalem says peering through his gold rims, “…I want all the diamonds today…”

Alex now heads for his office to fetch the million and a half cash.
Shaking with excitement, he loads up a duffel bag with currency.
A few doubts he had, have all been erased. It was quite simple, he’d approached the men first and not vice-versa, and the slick and genuine looking Lebanese diamond dealer – that just about clinched it.
Money in the bag, he makes for the Hilton again – for a rendezvous with Goldie and Jimmy.

They are waiting in a chauffeured taxi, Alex gets in.
The atmosphere in the taxi is all cloak-n-daggers – Goldie and Jimmy direct the driver to head for River Road.
A whispered conversation follows; Alex learns that the Congolese truck driver is waiting in a building on River Road to make the exchange.
Now, River Road isn’t exactly a very sociable neighborhood – the kind of place where automobile hub-caps and rear-view mirrors disappear after an hour, a place populated by beefy vagrants who shout the most colorful Swahili expletives known to man.

They reach a dark brooding building without any windows – a solitary door leads into it.
Goldie hands the satin bag with the diamonds to Alex, “Keep it safe!” he tells Alex, “You’ll have to wait here for us, and we’ll comeback with the diamonds in five minutes….”
Apparently, the Congolese driver might panic upon suddenly seeing Alex, and withdraw from the deal.
Alex hesitates.
Don’t worry, Jimmy says, If you don’t want to go through with the deal, we can go back – but remember: this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.
Alex breathes again, grabs hold of the small satin bag and hands the duffel bag full of money to Jimmy and Goldie.

Five minutes pass. Nobody’s come out yet. And the door seems to be the only way to get in and out of the building.
What’s taking them so long? The satin bag with the four diamonds provides a bit of comfort.
Ten minutes pass, Alex is now antsy and desperate.
Finally, he rushes out of the taxi, lunges up the steps of the building, and pushes open the door.

It was at that moment, Alex’s Range Rover dreams sank into tearful oblivion.

The building has a long corridor with rows of people on both sides, clattering away on ancient Remington and Singer typewriters. The other end of the passage is wide-open into the twilight of yet another crowded and grimy street.
A few perfunctory questions reveal all:
Yes, a couple of men walked through around ten minutes back -- and left through the other door. But, no we’ve never seen them before; this is just a typewriting institute. Sir, are you OK??

Of course, Alex wasn’t OK.

The diamonds in the satin bag turned out to be polished glass, and back at the Hilton “Salalem” had checked out, leaving no forwarding address. Alex didn’t go to the police.

But, the suave duo of Goldie and Jimmy – finally slipped up -- after a few months and after repeating the scam God knows how many times.
In police custody, under gruesome torture [Yes!! That means both Celine Dion and Barry Manilow playing at full blast!]: Goldie and his pal caved in and admitted to everything.
And what of Salalem? Salalem, was a Belgian backpacker tourist with considerable acting talent – and probably running short of money; did his part for a quick buck and left.
He was never apprehended.

Alex never got his money back. But, he repeats the story to anyone who cares to listen to him after a few beers. And he’s stopped visiting the Simmers bar.

Note: Scams and conmen are quite common in Nairobi. Most of them are quite petty in nature – but this particular one, really impressed me because of its sheer bravado and style.