ABUJA — It reads like a high-stakes thriller: a fake Dubai prince, a romantic trap set on LinkedIn, and a $2.5 million trail of breadcrumbs leading from London to Lagos. But for Henry Nzubechukwu Ikeji, the prominent Chairman of Zube Sunstar Group, it isn’t a movie—it is a “calculated campaign of calumny” that threatens to dismantle his business empire.
The Allegation: A Royal Ruse
The controversy ignited following a detailed report by the Organised Crime and Corruption Reporting Project (OCCRP). The investigation claims that Ikeji donned a digital mask, posing as a member of the Dubai royal family to woo a Romanian businesswoman named Laura.
According to the report, the scheme was a masterclass in social engineering:
The Bait: A LinkedIn connection centered on “humanitarian investments.”
The Hook: A romantic relationship that moved the victim to transfer millions for purported engagement and licensing fees.
The Closer: An accomplice in London, Dr. Martins Abhulimhen, allegedly posing as a financial manager named “Dr. Mathew Croos” to collect the funds.
The Defense: A “Project Hijack” Plot
Ikeji isn’t just denying the claims—he is flipping the script. In a defiant press conference in Abuja, he described the entire saga as a fallout from a legitimate business venture gone sour.
Ikeji’s counter-narrative centers on a licensing project with the Federal Ministry of Environment. He claims Dr. Abhulimhen was merely an intermediary and translator who turned hostile after failing to “side-line” Ikeji from the deal.
“This is a failed attempt to hijack a project,” Ikeji’s camp maintains, asserting that the fraud allegations are a weaponized form of blackmail. To bolster his defense, Ikeji points to a simple fact: he has never stepped foot in Dubai, a claim he says can be easily verified by his passport records.
High-Level Fallout
The scandal is particularly sensitive because of the circles Ikeji moves in. The OCCRP report pointedly noted that both suspects are often seen at high-level social gatherings with senior Nigerian officials—a visibility that purportedly lent their “prince” persona an air of legitimacy.
Now, that same visibility has become a liability. Ikeji claims the controversy has moved beyond the headlines into his private life, alleging that he and his family have faced targeted harassment and “cyberstalking.”
What’s Next?
The business man recently honoured an invitation to EFCC, the economic financial crimes commission at Abuja.
As it stands, there is no middle ground. On one side, the OCCRP cites financial records and international law enforcement sources; on the other, Ikeji stands on his record as a law-abiding citizen and philanthropist, threatening a massive defamation lawsuit.
With the legal teams on both sides sharpening their tools, the battle is moving from the court of public opinion to the courtroom. Until then, the $2.5 million question remains: was this an elaborate international heist, or is it the ultimate business betrayal?