In Kisumu, where the beauty of Lake Victoria meets the pulse of city life, stands a man whose charm hides a dark secret. Maurice Oduor, 60, is more than the polished figure he appears to be. Behind the tailored suits, Mercedes-Benz, and confident smile lies a Kisumu land fraudster who has perfected deception into an art.
At Kisumu Golf Club, he mingles with the wealthy, sipping whisky and trading stories of lucrative contracts and land deals. Yet behind the charm is a man thriving on lies—one who cost his latest victim Ksh 3 million.
How the Kisumu Land Fraudster Trapped His Latest Victim
The story began like many of Oduor’s scams—with a “business opportunity.” He approached the woman with confidence, claiming he was awaiting a Ksh 20 million payment from the Kisumu County Government. The only thing delaying it, he said, was “paperwork” that needed “fast-tracking.”
“If you can assist me with two million, I’ll return four,” he told her smoothly, sounding like a man who had done such deals before.
Tempted by the promise of quick profit and convinced by his composure, the woman transferred the money the same day. Days later, Oduor introduced a new twist. “There’s a small hitch,” he texted. “KRA needs Ksh 500,000 to speed up my compliance certificate.”
Desperate to recover her money, she sent more. Then came another message—this time claiming the KRA officer had been arrested and the police needed Ksh 500,000 for his release.
By the time she realized she had been conned, Oduor had vanished—leaving behind unanswered calls, fake excuses, and a trail of broken trust.
Locals at the Kisumu Lands Office say Oduor is a familiar face there. He often hangs around the corridors, pretending to process documents for nonexistent land deals. “He’s always here,” one employee said. “Always talking big, but never completing anything.”
The Secret Life Behind the Kisumu Land Fraudster’s Smile
At his Lower Milimani home near Kisumu Central Primary School, neighbors know little about him. “He comes in late and leaves early,” one said. “When he’s around, there’s always a new woman in the car.”
Those women are often part of his double life. Oduor’s wife of 35 years lives quietly, unaware of his constant affairs. Recently, two of his mistresses clashed at a Kisumu Airbnb, accusing each other of cheating with the same man. Witnesses say Oduor ran from the scene, abandoning both women in confusion.
At Kisumu Golf Club, he keeps up appearances—joking with businessmen, posing for photos with politicians, and acting like a man of influence. But insiders claim it’s all part of his hunting ground. “He doesn’t come to play golf,” one regular said. “He comes to meet targets. He’s always talking about tenders, plots, or county projects—things that make him sound important.”
Friends whisper that Oduor’s confidence hides deep fear. He avoids crowded events, always watching over his shoulder. Many of his victims—especially businesspeople and land buyers—have threatened to expose him. Others stay silent, too embarrassed to admit they were duped.
A Trail of Victims and a Life Built on Lies
Oduor’s scams follow the same script—charm, fake connections, and promises of quick returns. He often sells land that doesn’t exist, especially in Riat Hills, using forged documents and smooth talk to gain trust.
“He’s clever,” says a Kisumu broker who once crossed paths with him. “He uses real names of officials and sometimes shows photos with VIPs to appear legitimate.”
Those photos, often taken at social events, are part of his deception strategy. In one, Oduor poses beside the late Prof. Bethwel Ogot—an image he proudly shares to appear credible.
Over the years, Oduor has conned multiple victims, from businesswomen to senior county officers. Many never report him, fearing public embarrassment or drawn-out court processes.
But his reputation is catching up with him. Once admired for his apparent success, Oduor is now shunned. Former friends cross the road when they see him. Business partners refuse his calls. Yet, he continues to walk around Kisumu with confidence—still believing he can talk his way into another deal.
The Illusion of Success in a City of Deception
In Kisumu, where image often overshadows truth, Maurice Oduor represents a dangerous kind of predator—polished, eloquent, and heartless. He has turned deceit into a lifestyle, thriving on trust and leaving victims ashamed and financially broken.
Behind the wheel of his Mercedes, he projects wealth and class. But in reality, he lives on borrowed money, broken promises, and temporary victories.
His story is a reminder that not every man in a fine suit and luxury car is a success story. Some are masters of illusion—con men who use charm as currency, living double lives built entirely on lies.
