In the aftermath of the 2016 MMM meltdown, Nigerians collectively pledged to steer clear of investments and multi-level marketing schemes with grand promises. For a period, it appeared we had learned our lesson, with our memories tinged by past naivety and regret. But here we are in 2023, considering questions like: “Do you want to be a millionaire in less than a month? Attend our seminar, and we’ll teach you the secrets of wealth.”
The Mavrodi Mondial Moneybox’s (MMM) closure struck deep into the hearts of many Nigerians. Even though, like other Ponzi schemes, MMM pledged quick riches with vague details, many trusted the company because they knew someone who had reaped gains. It was akin to holding your breath, knowing something was too good to be true, yet gradually succumbing to its allure. Many were excited about what they thought would be their means to rub shoulders with Dangote. Rationality was thrown out for faith; the skeptical were dubbed bad belles as people continued to build castles in the air. The appeal was simple: allow your money to labor for you, then beckon friends and family to join. Although anticipated, the crash of MMM shook some into learning a lesson, while for others, it catalyzed tragic life-changing events; however, the continued pursuit of these schemes remains puzzling. The pyramid scheme landscape has evolved since MMM’s era, but the underlying foundation persists.
The Digital Marketing Façade
Around the 2010s, a slew of digital marketing companies sprouted across the country , enticing individuals to become independent distributors of several products. While this might seem like a standard distribution setup, there’s always a concealed catch beneath the surface. These companies heavily rely on networking and recruitment, often employing a “bring one person” approach that creates a chain reaction where each recruit makes purchases, thus boosting overall sales. However, this “digital marketing” scam is not a new concept.
Multi Level Marketing or MLM has existed since the 1920s and has prominent players like Avon and Mary Kay who have operated for years. While MLM may appear distinct from investment scams on the surface, delving deeper reveals that they carry the same undertones as pyramid schemes — packaged grand visions and dreams of riches, adorning a glittering façade while slyly mentioning considerable drawbacks as an afterthought.
As these companies rebrand Ponzi schemes into the digital marketing sphere, their recruitment strategies have evolved, becoming more cunning and persuasive. Consider Oriflame, a notable Swedish company successfully operating in Nigeria since 2014. Much like numerous MLM schemes, Oriflame employs a point-based system where the number of products you sell equals your advancement on a success ladder with higher income. But unlike many others who have attempted to cloak themselves in legitimacy, Oriflame takes a different approach – they redefine the pyramid scheme concept to one of collective profit.
While interacting with Oriflame representatives, I was presented with a strong vision of genuine business support and a stronger focus on personal development. One critical narrative they push forward is that their business model deviates from the typical pyramid schemes where individuals higher up the ladder merely profit off those below them. According to them, inviting someone to join Oriflame translates into assuming responsibility for the person’s success. Their invitation pitch revolves around mutual entrepreneurship, wherein individuals help each other establish and nurture their businesses. This sentiment and the consistent promise of luxurious vacations and enticing gifts continue to draw new entrants to Oriflame.
As noble and alluring as this collective empowerment may sound, its authenticity is questionable when you realize that the pyramid structure must be upheld for anyone to reap the rewards. Should those beneath you stumble, so will your gains. If their success hinges on yours, can the offered personal development program still be genuine? In these scenarios, recruiters are not the enemy but victims ensnared within the same cycle of striving to earn a living.
Regardless of the tweaks and adjustments they apply, the fundamental truth remains: companies like Oriflame are still pyramid schemes built on fragile structures that could crumble at any moment. When this was raised, the Oriflame representative then tried to soften the picture, asserting that their point-based leadership system is only one of the paths to profit. They claim I could focus solely on product sales for income, relegating the bonus points to a secondary option.
From this perspective, Oriflame assumes the guise of a benign business using additional benefits to sweeten the deal for distributors. Peel the surface, and you’d find a brand exploiting the vulnerable, luring them with partial truths and visions of opulence. While Oriflame presents an alternate path to profits, many MLMs in Nigeria, like Neolife, operate differently.
Joining Neolife
Neolife is another digital marketing company similar to Oriflame, in product lineup and business structure. Alongside this, they share the similarity of breaking the ice about their being a pyramid scheme without being asked. While the Oriflame representative candidly addressed their pyramid-like structure, the Neolife representative took a more covert approach of vehemently disavowing any pyramid scheme associations, even touting their tried-and-true business model and decades-long experience.
Off the bat, after meeting a Neolife correspondent, I was invited to an exclusive business seminar that was anything but exclusive. This event promised comprehensive explanations and recognition for accomplishments, with “additional evidence, results, and achievements”. I listened attentively as the correspondents tried to draw me in with firsthand testimonials and experiences. Despite recognizing the slick salesman tactics employed, I was still impressed in some ways. If I hadn’t previously labeled this a pyramid scheme, I too might have been ensnared by the allure of exotic vacations and a beach house in Banana Island.
After listening to a spiel of convoluted details and crafty persuasive techniques, I finally got the gist of Neolife. Essentially, Neolife’s strategy is to recruit participants under a sponsor and have them undertake skill training followed by freelance work under the supervision of Neolife. All earnings accrued are collected and planned by sponsors. However, sponsors follow a predisposed company rule of reinvesting your funds into Neolife’s structure. So their plans involve expending nearly 90% of your income on the company’s costly “EEE” (Everyday Essentials for Everyone) products.
They promote the narrative that the skills acquired are a means to purchase Neolife’s expensive supplements and create a passive income that works for you. The concept to create a “passive income,” is hinged on a point-based system that propels you up the hierarchy. Actively, you learn new skills and engage in digital projects while passively expecting returns from Neolife. But there’s a problem with this setup.
Recruits pay to join, then end up tied to Neolife, with no control over their earnings. Reinvesting most of your money to earn passive income from Neolife is quite strange because you could master these skills and invest your money in ways that align with your preferences – legitimate investments or entrepreneurial pursuits.
These points may not even be helpful in the long run. It’s even worse when you consider how these schemes target students needing extra cash and skills.
Even if you believe you can learn the skills and invest your money better elsewhere, Neolife has a way to keep you locked in. You can’t take back the skills you’ve learnt , but any money you make from them will be returned to them. When asked about their earnings, Neolife representatives often deflect and talk about others instead of sharing their success stories.
Upon closer look, I realized that many of the values propagated by Neolife recruiters are aspirational and grand. The imposed work schedule coerces the recruits to cultivate a diligent work ethic. Not being a morning person myself, my association with Neolife dictated a healthier routine—early rising and investing extended hours into work. Whether these practices genuinely enhance one’s productivity or determination is highly debatable. Nevertheless, the underlying business model capitalizes on exploiting individuals, and no veil can conceal this.
Furthermore, the business’ foundation of hard work and unwavering perseverance makes it challenging for recruits to walk away. Bombarded with rhetoric asserting that surrender is synonymous with failure, it’s no wonder that adherents of both Oriflame and Neolife persist despite scant rewards. After being beaten down with speeches about how giving up isn’t in the books or giving up makes you a loser, one can understand why Oriflamers and Neo-lifers still carry on with their struggles despite reaping little rewards.
