To win (and lose) fortune in Dubai

“Your first time in Dubai?” he enquired of me.“No”, I replied, as courteously as I could be.“You are one of a lucky few. Our Company is celebrating its 10th year anniversary and we wish to honour you with a choice from our unique holiday package. You will attend a carnival and receive prizes.”Without waiting he […]

“Your first time in Dubai?” he enquired of me.
“No”, I replied, as courteously as I could be.
“You are one of a lucky few. Our Company is celebrating its 10th year anniversary and we wish to honour you with a choice from our unique holiday package. You will attend a carnival and receive prizes.”
Without waiting he reached into a folder and brought out a well printed tourist’s flier and spreading it across the table he asked me to make a choice from many exotic destinations to visit in Dubai. After some time, I chose a guided tour of Burr Dubai, the world’s tallest building, a Carnival in one of the many 5 star hotels in Dubai, and a visit to the Media City. He made notes and handed me a ticket, asking me to show up at a hotel foyer assembly the next day.
Thus at 4 o’clock, I turned up at the pickup point, dressed like some Indian Maharaja in a flowing white kaftan with a waist coat. It was a 5 star hotel that shared a condominium with a major bank and several businesses. It was a posh reception with a lot of wasted space, made cosy by a set of custom made wooden furniture. The pretty well spoken receptionist dressed western style was all over me to wait and I would be attended to, and brought me some forms to fill. The form demanded my personal data and then I began to wonder what all this was needed for, if all I came for was a tourist’s guided tour of Burr Dubai. The form demanded to know my income per month. I decided to play the big boy and circled the last but one entry level – $10,000 to $20,000 dollars a month.
Then a young well suited executive walked curtly to my seat, hand stretched, “Mr Mathias, we are sorry it is taking your time, we will give you your choice prize shortly. But we need at least 90 minutes to give you a demonstration.  This way please.” I followed him to another vast office whose French windows overlooked the city, giving you a breathtaking panoramic view of Dubai. Although there were many executives, each attending to clients, it seemed this big fish was served to the Supervisor. I was given a comfortable visitor’s chair opposite the executive who introduced himself as Bilal Husein. “Call me Bilal,” he said. “I am from Lebanon. I have lived in Dubai today for 15 years.” He spoke fantastic English. His accent was not Arabic.
Then he began, not talking about my guided tour, but about their company, the third largest in the world, attaining that position within 20 years, not from offering guided tours to guests in Dubai, but from selling real estate. He spoke nonstop, aiding himself with documentary evidence. Dubai was a dreamer’s paradise, I agreed, where you could hit a jack pot and gain wealth instantly.
Dubai is also a city to lose your fortune to. Bilal opened a large grand sheet with pictures of done-up flats on Paradise Island. “Dubai is going to host the World Expo. Property rates will shoot up”. But I stood to make $40,000 dollars a month if I bought a 2-bedroom flat and the method was easy. I bought a flat immediately and could live in it for three weeks free, and if I did not want that option, could have it rented and have the money remitted to me. That way I bought the flat without really paying more than the first tranche.
He went on about their legitimacy, how to register required from them, a deposit of a million dollars to guaranty that I made claims from the Dubai Monarch if this business did not get off the ground in my favour.
Was I interested? I admitted it looked good to me. I looked wishfully across the panoramic view of cosmopolitan Dubai skyline. “Do you think you can commit yourself now? We can show you a documentary of our properties.” I was chaperoned to a mini theatre that seats 12 to 15 people and in a minute, a multimedia presentation was running on how one could own a flat in exotic Paradise Island.  I watched thinking all the time, of tsunamis. The documentary could have been better made I reasoned, spotting some flaws. I yawned.
They switched on the lights and took me back to the office. “Are you now interested? Would you commit? I am not allowed to tell you the price unless you will commit.”
“I can’t commit I am afraid,” I protested. “Without an idea of the price how can I commit?” I girded my loins clearly worried. I did not come to Dubai to buy property! I was not even in this building for that purpose. All I was offered was a guided tour. Where was all this leading to?
“I will commit on two conditions. One is that I find the price affordable. Two is that my wife agrees.” Bilal now asked to bring in the Managing Director. The two-bedroom apartment I had chosen was $35,000 dollars. I needed to deposit $11,000 which was some 30%. Could I afford that? Of course I could, I swore – I could even pay outright, but would make that call to Mammara? You should see their anxiety.
I put out the call, told my wife the story of how you could easily lose money to fraudsters in Dubai and I was in the middle of the most prolific con job you could imagine. Once I said good bye, I informed my hosts that my wife needed the rest of the day to pray about it. Tomorrow would be alright to conclude.
“The offer expires today Sir. The house will not be available tomorrow!”
I did not come here to buy real estate. I kept reminding myself. I offered to put another call to Mammara, my guardian angel.
I talked my language some more and pocketing my phone, I carefully felt my pocket to be certain my wad of dollars was intact. Satisfied, I looked across the table and with all the seriousness I could muster told my marketers sternly, they had failed to make me a Dubai landlord.
There and then, I was stripped of all royalty. No more courtesies. The young man was angry. Did I not say that I would commit once I knew the price? I countered: on condition my wife bought the idea.  She did not.
“Make a commitment of even $1,000. If you change your mind, come back and we give you back your money less 20%.” I offered $500. He went in for the commitment forms. When he returned, I was already on my feet. I declined to commit even the $500 deciding that it was too high a price to pay for black tea. I walked to the lift unescorted.  Coming out through the swing doors, the sea breeze hit me soothingly. It was so good to be free.
In Dubai, it is a notch higher. So it is not 419. It is 420. In it you, of no fixed address, claim to be who you are not and by more false pretence, sell what you neither have nor own. To the greedy and foolish.