URGENT AND CONFIDENTIAL JOB OFFER
FROM THE DESK OF:
Dr. Aloysius Okonjo
Director of International Remittance & Financial Reconciliation
(A Subsidiary of Global Funds Distribution Network, Ltd.)
Ouagadougou, BURKINO FASO
GREETINGS DARLING DISTINGUISHED APPLICANT,
I write to you this day with a proposition of a most lucrative nature. Our internal audit committee has identified your professional profile on a prestigious networking platform and deemed you highly suitable for a critical vacancy within our organisation.
Due to your unique sexual magnetism and experience of removing giblets from chicken carcasses in the kitchen of Bufalo Wild Wings, we believe you are the perfect candidate to fill a vacancy that has arisen in our organisation for a Foreign Endorsement Officer.
Due to the recent and most unfortunate passing of our previous Foreign Endorsement Officer (Mr. James Uduak, may his soul rest in peace, he was involved in a most tragic helicopter crash while attending a dental appointment), we have an urgent need to fill this position.
Your role will involve you spending just one hour a day liking your own social media posts and for this you will be handsomely rewarded to the tune of US$18,000,000,000,000 per calendar month.
All I need from you at this stage is your bank account details, a copy of your credit card and the passwords to all of your online accounts.
As soon as we have received these, we will begin the induction process for your new career and we will pay you six months’ salary in advance.
Do not delay dearest applicationist! This offer is extended to only a select few. Please act now to secure your financial freedom.
Yours in Prosperity,
Dr. Aloysius Okonjo
It had to happen, and now it has. The hitherto impregnable recruitment sector has finally been infiltrated by unconvincing scammers from developing countries.
With complaints about recruitment scams having doubled in the past six months, the only people safe from falling prey are…well those with a modicum of critical scepticism who no longer believe in Santa Claus and the tooth fairy.
If there is one thing more annoying than the endless texts, emails and social media posts clogging up our inboxes with demonstrably ridiculous offers for non-existent jobs, it is the people falling for these cons.
We’ve all seen them – Earn £600-a-day from your sofa! No experience needed! Must be conscious, good with Google and capable of earning more for doing less.
If your first thought is not ‘well than looks like a lot of money for doing nothing’ perhaps you should ask yourself why you are being offered a highly paid job by someone you have never met and who knows nothing about you.
Take Alexander. He didn’t just apply for a job; he enrolled in training course for a company so cutting-edge, it won’t exist until 2035 and whose headquarters are a gmail account in Montenegro.
His first task was to earn US$3,000-an-hour setting up new Instagram accounts for the seven dwarfs, the 101 Dalmatians and all the characters in Toy Story 3.
After he had successfully completed the task he was told his payment cheque was in the post and that he would now be required to undergo training before progressing onto more complex tasks.
For that, he would have to pay a modest fee – of US4,500 payable immediately using Paypal – to cover the cost of training materials, such as pens, paper, gonks and a quarter of pick ‘n mix from Woolworth’s.
It seems our self-importance has become the ultimate phishing bait. So, to help you navigate this digital minefield where every notification could be a dream job or a humiliating pitfall, here are five recruitment scams to watch out for
1. Self-reflection analyst
The offer: Your Instagram profile shows a captivating aura! We’re hiring aesthetic consultants to analyse their own social media feeds and provide qualitative data on their own brilliance. Salary: £500/day, paid in exposure and complimentary filters.
The catch: After a brief ‘orientation’ (a £500 fee), you’ll be tasked with spending eight hours a day liking your own posts from fake accounts to ‘generate engagement metrics’. The only thing you’ll be analysing is the depth of your despair.
2. Remote Panda Carer
The offer: ‘Urgently seeking a chief wellness officer for our endangered panda sanctuary in Sichuan. Role is fully remote. Must provide virtual company and monitor panda moods via live stream.’
The catch: You’ll need to pay a £600 ‘bamboo connectivity fee’ for the specialised software to connect to the live stream ( a loop of a YouTube video from 2014) and your primary duty will be wiring your ‘salary’ back to the ‘sanctuary’ to help with a funding shortfall.
3. Artisanal password creator
The offer: ‘Tired of soulless tech jobs? Use your creativity! We need passionate individuals to craft bespoke, artisanal passwords for high-net-worth clients. ‘Password123’ is dead; long live ‘P@$sw0rd_du_sourdoughcob!’’
The catch: The £100 ‘training seminar’ teaches you how to use a free password generator. You’ll then be asked to provide your bank details ‘for payroll,’ which the company will ‘securely test’ by trying to purchase a fleet of jetskis.
4. NFT morale officer
The offer: Our Web3.0 Metaverse-based startup is looking for a dynamic morale officer to host virtual parties and generate hype for our exclusive digital collectibles (extremely valuable JPEGs of cartoon rocks).
The catch: Your first task is to invest your first month’s salary into purchasing the company’s ‘founder-level rock NFT’ to ‘prove your belief in the ecosystem.’ The second task is to try and sell the rock to your friends. There is no third task.
5. The executive proof-listener
The offer: Become a remote proof-listener for busy executives! Simply listen to their memos and emails and confirm they sound ‘authoritative and smart.’ A great ear is all you need!
The catch: You’ll receive a voicemail from a ‘CEO’ asking you to immediately approve an urgent wire transfer to a foreign supplier because ‘it just doesn’t sound right and I need your keen ear to OK it.’ The only thing you’ll be listening to is the sound of your savings disappearing.
The lesson, as always? If it sounds too good to be true, it absolutely is. Unless, of course, they’re offering you a job as a professional napper. That one’s definitely real. I start on Monday. I just had to pay a small £250 ‘duvet deposit’ first.
