In Ghana, people love their heroes. They love their musicians, their politicians, their professors, their men of wisdom and power. They also love titles — Doctor, Professor, Ambassador, Diplomat. Those titles open doors that money cannot.
But one man discovered that the hunger for titles and recognition could be used for something else — not just power, not just respect, but for a scam so bold that it shook the nation.
His name was Kwame Owusu Fordjour, but after his infamous act, he became known by a name that will neve fade: Dr. UN.
So he came up with this plan ,
Fordjour sat in a small rented room, a table before him covered with papers. His friends had long given up on him, calling him a dreamer who chased shadows. But tonight, his eyes shone with a fire.
He spoke to himself.
"Why should I bow to these so-called big men? Why should they think they are untouchable? I will make them come to me. I will honor them, and the whole country will clap… until the truth is known."
He pulled out a plain sheet of paper. With neat handwriting, he wrote:
United Nations Kofi Annan Excellence Awards.
The name alone carried weight. The late Kofi Annan was Ghana's pride, a man who had reached the highest office of the United Nations. To attach his name to an award was like sprinkling gold dust on it.
Fordjour leaned back and smiled.
"Yes… they will believe it. They all want recognition. They all want to be seen. That is their weakness.
Weeks later, sealed letters began to travel across Accra. Each one carried official-looking stamps and long signatures. Each one announced that the recipient had been chosen for a special honor — an award from the United Nations, in memory of Kofi Annan himself.
When musician Sarkodie received his invitation, he raised an eyebrow.
"UN? Award for me?" he muttered. He showed it to his manager.
The manager nodded with excitement. "Boss, this is big. This is international recognition. You must attend."
Sarkodie smiled slightly. He had won many awards already, but this one — this one sounded prestigious. He called his tailor immediately.
"Prepare my best suit. We are going global."
At another corner of the city, rapper D-Black also opened his letter. He grinned widely.
"UN award? Ei! This one, nobody can drag me again. I'm going."
Professors, businessmen, politicians, and media personalities — all of them read their letters with pride. Some framed the invitations on their walls even before the ceremony.
And Fordjour? He watched it all unfold, amused by how easily the powerful were falling into his net.
The venue was not the grandest, but it was decorated to shine. Red carpets rolled out. Lights flashed. Cameramen stood ready, adjusting their lenses.
Guests began to arrive one by one. Expensive cars pulled up, and out-stepped celebrities in sharp suits and glittering gowns. The air smelled of perfume, ego, and expectation.
When Sarkodie walked in, the cameras went wild. "Sark! Sark!" the fans shouted. He raised his hand like royalty.
D-Black arrived, laughing with friends. Professors walked proudly, their heads high, as though they had already won Nobel Prizes.
And then, Fordjour appeared.
He wore a suit, not the most expensive, but he carried himself with the confidence of a world leader. His chest was out, his steps measured. People whispered as he walked.
"Ei, that's the UN man. That's the diplomat himself."
The program began. The master of ceremonies spoke loudly, his voice echoing:
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the United Nations Kofi Annan Excellence Awards! Tonight, we celebrate the best of Ghana, those who have changed lives and lifted our nation high."
Applause shook the hall.
One by one, the names were called.
"Sarkodie!"
The rapper stood, adjusting his suit. He walked with calm pride as the cameras flashed. Fordjour shook his hand firmly and placed a golden-looking plaque in it. Sarkodie smiled, raising it for the crowd.
"D-Black!"
Another round of applause. Another handshake. Another plaque.
Professors, politicians, businessmen — each one walked up, bowed slightly, and received their award. Some even gave short speeches of gratitude.
"Tonight," Fordjour announced with a booming voice, "we are showing the world that Ghana has sons and daughters worthy of honor. Kofi Annan would be proud."
The crowd roared. People believed every word. Social media filled with pictures and videos. Ghana was trending worldwide.
For one night, it seemed real.
But behind the glitter, a few sharp minds began to whisper.
A journalist leaned toward his colleague.
"Have you checked the UN's website? I can't find anything about this award."
His colleague frowned. "Maybe it's new. Or maybe it's under the Kofi Annan Foundation."
That night, calls were made. Emails were sent. And slowly, the truth crawled out like a snake in the dark.
The United Nations knew nothing about the award.
The Kofi Annan Foundation denied all involvement.
The plaques? Ordinary trophies bought from a local shop.
It was all fake.
The next morning, headlines blazed across Ghana.
"UN Awards Scam Exposed!"
"Celebrities Fooled by Fake Diplomat!"
"Dr. UN Strikes Again!"
Social media turned savage. Memes poured in. Sarkodie's serious face holding the plaque became a joke shared thousands of times. D-Black's proud photos were turned into cartoons. Professors who once walked tall were mocked as gullible.
On Twitter, someone wrote:
"Imagine spending years in university only to be scammed by Dr. UN. Tragic."
Another joked:
"Sarkodie, from BET to UN… but UN means 'Unnecessary Nonsense.'"
The laughter was endless.
But the strangest part of the story was not the embarrassment of the celebrities. It was Fordjour's reaction.
Most scammers would have disappeared into hiding. But not him. He granted interviews, smiling confidently. On radio shows, he defended himself.
"I did nothing wrong," he said calmly. "I only honored people who deserved recognition. If the UN didn't do it, why shouldn't I?"
The hosts laughed, the audience laughed, but Fordjour never flinched. He acted like a man who had achieved greatness.
On one TV show, the host asked:
"Are you not ashamed? You scammed the biggest names in Ghana."
Fordjour leaned back and grinned.
"Scam? No. I made history. These people needed to be humbled. Now the world knows me. Tell me, who loses here?"
The host had no answer. The studio filled with laughter.
Ghana had mixed feelings. Some were angry, saying Fordjour had embarrassed the country. Others laughed, saying he was a genius trickster. A few even admired him secretly.
One taxi driver told his passenger,
"Look, my brother. This man didn't scam the poor. He didn't take our money. He scammed the big men. For once, the common man can laugh at the mighty."
The passenger nodded.
"True. Sarkodie is crying, but I am enjoying it."
What made the scam successful was not magic. It was pride. Every human loves recognition. Every human wants to be honored. And when the honor comes with the name of the United Nations, even the smartest can forget to ask questions.
Fordjour had understood this. He did not target wallets. He targeted egos. And that made his trick unforgettable.
Today, Fordjour still walks free. He is invited to events, not as a diplomat, but as a strange kind of celebrity. People laugh when they see him, but they cannot ignore him. He has become a legend, not for his greatness, but for his boldness.
The name Dr. UN will remain in Ghana's history as one of the most unusual scams ever carried out — a scam that took nothing but gave everything: laughter, shame, and endless stories.
And somewhere, in a quiet room, Fordjour still smiles to himself, knowing that while others chase money, he has written his name into history with nothing but paper, confidence, and a lie too bold to question.
Kwame Owusu Fordjour — the man who fooled the stars.
This remins one of the biggest scam In the world 🌍