Adaobi Tricia Nwaubani's writing has such a seductive power. The writer, like a snake charmer, takes you into her world with her words, and before you know it, you're done. Done? Yes, done reading her text. This is what she displays not only in her beautiful novel, "I Do Not Come To You by Chance," but also in this piece, "Scamming my way through India."
She's relentless in her attempt to warn Nigerians off their God-given mission of destroying Nigeria (oh sweet home) and Nigeria's image (oyooyo image). Here's Tricia:
"Now, there’s a limit to what we Nigerian writers can do, how far we can go in salvaging our country’s international reputation using carefully crafted words. We can convince the world that our brothers swiping dollars off unsuspecting mugus are simply ensuring that dependent siblings have a good education; we can suggest that our sisters labouring through their privates in Italy are merely guaranteeing that aging parents spend their final days in comfort. But how on earth are we to explain away hijacking someone else’s creativity and boldly entering it for an international competition? Surely, there are quicker—and saner—ways of making a few hundred pounds."