#ofbiodiscsandwaterdispensers

I ran into a young lady on the street (Actually, she was the one who ran into me) one Tuesday, about three weeks ago. She smiled sweetly, offering me a warm, "How are you?".
I replied, thinking to myself that this must be one of those people you meet, but whose name you cannot remember, and I had already started racking my brain furiously for a name when she said, "I know you from somewhere, your face looks familiar."
"Oh," I laughed, with a small hint of nervousness. WTH was her name and where did I see her, if ever???
"Yeah, I work at (God, I cannot even remember where but it is somewhere near Amber House)."
"Oh." another nervous titter.
"Where do you work?" That was when the warning bells in my head (I call it my seventh sense) started chiming so loud- another con artist! With a smiley face??
I told a white lie.
"Do you want to do business? I run my personal business."
"I have an art business. I am into art, and I sell my pieces from time to time," I said.
"Wow! Then that's nice. So now we can talk!" Said with such confidence.
Anyway, to cut the conversation short (I was now in British mode- you know, the one where they offer you the fake “bladdy-end-the-chit-chat-now miss!” half-smile, so quickly done that you don't even realize what it was) I fished in my bag for an art business card, gave it to her and was on my way.
Next Monday morning (I had had a late night re-watching episodes of Real Housewives of Atlanta and my wake up time was still an hour away). The phone rings.
"Hi. Belinda here, remember me?" (Like I did!) "I want us to talk business, you know, like expanding your art business."
Then I remembered. And was instantly irritated.
"Yeah, I know.” Groggily.
"So, when can we meet. Y'know, like you can come to the office and I give you more information and tips and you can meet my boss."
Eh! This one was a fast-mover. I didn't like it.
"I'll see if I can come. I have a very busy day ahead."
"So, what time will you be free so that you pass by?" Pushy."Not today. Maybe tomorrow."
"Oh. Tomorrow? What time?"
"I'll see. Call me."
"Ok!"
Next day. I had some issues to deal with so I was up and down. Tring tring! I looked at the number. Airtel. Eisshshhh! Must be this Belinda chic. I pushed the phone back into my bag.
Tring tring. Again. I ignored her.
After three more of her missed calls, and when I was done dealing with the matters I had, I walked to the building near Amber House.
Anyway, let me cut to the chase. It was this office, about 12 by 16 feet. It had a white sticker on the door with Q-Net written on it. The space was filled with empty plastic chairs and one desk. There were four individuals. An elderly man in a smart dark suit. Belinda. A petite woman with a veil covering her hair. And an Asian man.
Something did not click.
Belinda smiled and welcomed me, sat me down and pulled a huge notebook out of nowhere.
Then she started to talk and write figures. I remember the words dreams, bio-disc, water purifier, UN job, millionaire.
Blink. Blink. Maybe she (mis)interpreted that for my inability to understand.
The Asian approached (he must have been the boss she referred to on Monday) and re-started the lecture. I heard the words open-minded, millionaire (again), self-employed, dollars, buy, members. There were lots of others. But I choose these for a reason.
After about 45 minutes of efforts to convince me to get a bio-disc that would solve all my medical problems, and being convinced about how poor I will be in the next five years, I felt I had heard enough and got up to leave.
Let me put it simply. I was not happy that I had wasted valuable time.
"So, when can we get the money?" The bio-disc, according to the chart sellotaped precariously on the plywood “wall” would cost about two million shillings. Asian Man was also busy giving assurance that with this “miraculous invention, the health problems in my family would be a thing of the past.”
"I will call you,” I said, and fled the building.

Two days later Belinda called inquiring when I would invest my capital and start work.
“Not ready now.”
She called again the next day. No.
Monday, same status. I ignored her call, and sent her a message saying I would not be investing. She immediately called back, her voice sounding desperate.
"I think you did not understand what I explained to you. And I am sure that someone has been misleading you. Please let me come to where you are and explain to you. Please?"
If the mountain was ready to come to Mohammed, and I was not going to it… I granted her one last chance.
Next morning, armed with a laptop rucksack and a number of brochures, Belinda was at my desk. Having huffed and puffed her way up 12 flights of stairs. After some hasty "hi's", she pulled out her computer and proceeded to switch it on.
"Wait, young lady!" I stopped her short in her tracks. Who did she think she was, insulting my intelligence? Insinuating that I had not understood a thing she had told me earlier. Bringing her magazines with success stories of a UN ambassador who quit her job and is now minting millions of dollars, and trying to convince me that she, Belinda "had even seen the million dollars with her own eyes!" Oh wow!
I told her that I was sitting behind my desk and this job had not been handed to me on a silver platter, but I had also been through thick and thin.
I repeated to her, in case "she had not understood", that I was not interested in putting money into bio-discs or water purifiers or whatever.
That even if I wanted money, I would like just enough to be comfortable, not multi-rich.
I also asked her to show me how she made the 17,000 USD that the Asian said she had in her bank account. She looked aghast, “17,000 dollars? Ah! Who told you I have 17,000 dollars?
I reminded her that the "I have met you somewhere before" tactic is so shady, and from the stories I have heard, it is a marketing ploy they use often- which she readily admitted.
She told me she was 21 and had a medical degree, and her own business- by that age??
I admired her persistence and her wide welcoming smile and told her that she should really not let her degree go to waste.
Then I sent her on her way. With her bio-disc.

But wait... I am not done. A visit to Wikipedia reveals that the bio-disc is marketed by a company called Questnet- or Q-net. It is a Hong-Kong based direct selling company owned by the QI group.
Qnet has been accused of operating a product-based pyramid scheme, and has faced legal action and controversy in Egypt, India, Iran, Indonesia, Nepal, Rwanda, Saudi Arabia, Sri Lanka, Sudan, Syria, and Turkey. The company denies any wrongdoing, and some court cases against it were dismissed.