Young people, including students, are increasingly lured by promises of high-paying jobs and quick success. But once they join, the illusion fades. They are conditioned to dismiss traditional education and legitimate careers, and are pushed into sales structures where earning real income is nearly impossible, writes IBRAHIM ADAM
At 20, Adebiyi Asabi (not her real name) had her dream of prosperity sold to her in a crowded hall in Lagos. For two years, she endured scorching sun, relentless hunger and pounding rain for NeoLife, a global health and wellness company she believed would lift her out of hardship.
That illusion crumbled during a phone call in the middle of the 2020 COVID-19 lockdown. Her team leader, Sanni Razaq, dismissed her ailing mother as nothing more than an obstacle to sales.
“How can your mum be shielding your success? She should die if she wants to die. She should die for you to do your business.”
“That statement changed my mind completely. I realised they only cared about themselves,” Asabi, now 27, told Saturday PUNCH.
In a moment of clarity and rage, she gathered her motivational books, product catalogues and piles of unsold goods — items that had come to define her life for two years. She set them all ablaze. It was a fiery funeral for a promise of wealth that had left her frail, penniless and emotionally drained.
Her journey into the scheme had begun on a sweltering afternoon in March 2018. As she made her way to Ijaiye, Lagos, a woman approached her with what seemed like an innocent question.
She gave her name as Tosin and asked, ‘What do you do for a living?’”
“I am a make-up artist,” Asabi replied.
Tosin immediately presented an enticing opportunity to a young, jobless make-up artist.
“Wow, what a coincidence. Our office needs a make-up artist for our models. The pay is good,” she said.
Deceptive recruitment
Drawn by the promise of work, Asabi located the address in Abesan Estate. Instead of a job interview, she found over 400 people gathered. She would later describe the encounter as a psychological trap disguised as a business opportunity.
Her fear soon gave way to curiosity as neatly dressed leaders mounted the podium, narrating stories of staggering monthly earnings. What began as a simple job offer quickly morphed into a “wealth creation” seminar.
One said he was a trader making over N200,000 monthly. Another said he was a Senior Manager earning N500,000. The main leader claimed he earned over one million naira monthly. I felt that if they could make that kind of money, I could make it too,” she said.
Recruits were made to believe their families remained poor because of the choices they made.
“All of us who came that day had been lied to. They knew that if they told us it was a seminar, nobody would attend. They brainwashed us. They explained why our parents, neighbours and families were poor, saying they were poor because they did what poor people do — shoe-making, sewing clothes, trading, being bus conductors or drivers, selling rice and beans. They said those jobs would keep them poor for life.”
According to Asabi, leaders repeatedly emphasised that wealth was not achieved through education or traditional employment, but through leveraging people.
“They brainwashed us and opened a WhatsApp group where they sent messages to change our mindset. Once you’re inside, leaving becomes difficult — not because of charms but because their words are carefully crafted.
“They tell students that school is a scam. They say people who didn’t go to school are making millions. When I met Tosin, I was preparing to sit for UTME and move into a higher institution. But after joining, I abandoned my education. It hurts, but I still want to continue,” she said.
With hopes of improving her life, she began considering registration, even though she had no means to meet the financial demands.
