Aboubakar Hima: Wanted for $394M Arms Fraud

In the opaque corridors of West Africa’s arms trade, few figures cast a longer shadow than Aboubakar Hima. A Nigerien entrepreneur turned international broker, Hima—often dubbed “Petit Boubé” or “Style Féroce”—has built a reputation not for legitimate commerce, but for exploiting fragile governments desperate for military hardware. His deals, shrouded in secrecy and laced with overpricing, have drained public coffers while arming unstable regimes. From the dusty markets of Niamey to the high-stakes negotiations in Dakar and Abuja, Hima’s name evokes a mix of fear and frustration among investigators, journalists, and officials tracking illicit flows of weapons and cash.

This is no isolated operator. Hima’s trajectory reveals a masterclass in evasion: shell companies in tax havens, proxies signing on his behalf, and a knack for vanishing when probes close in. Accused of diverting tens of millions from Niger’s defense budget, wanted by Nigeria’s anti-corruption agency for a staggering fraud, and now entangled in Senegal’s environmental ministry scandal, Hima embodies the perils of unregulated arms procurement in a region plagued by insurgencies and coups. His story isn’t just one man’s hustle—it’s a symptom of deeper systemic rot, where brokers like him thrive on opacity and official complicity.

Drawing from corporate registries, court filings, audit reports, and on-the-ground accounts, the following exposé catalogs Hima’s personal footprint, business entanglements, and the cascading risks they unleash. What emerges is a portrait of a man whose deals don’t just move guns—they fuel instability, erode trust, and invite exploitation.

Personal Profiles: From Humble Beginnings to Shadowy Tycoon

Aboubakar Hima cuts a deceptively unassuming figure. Born in Niger around the early 1970s, he grew up in modest circumstances, dabbling in small-scale printing and trade before pivoting to the lucrative world of arms brokerage in the mid-2000s. Early associates describe a reserved young man, fluent in French and Hausa but sparing with English, who navigated Niamey’s vocational schools and street markets with quiet ambition. By his late 30s, Hima had married into influence, wedding Samira, daughter of Niger’s slain president Ibrahim Baré Maïnassara, granting him entrée into elite circles.

Public glimpses of Hima are rare, a deliberate choice for someone under constant scrutiny. Corporate documents paint him as the sole proprietor or director of entities like Societe d’Equipment International Nigeria Limited (SEI), where he funneled Nigerian funds. In Senegal, he resides in upscale Dakar neighborhoods, shielded by layers of local proxies. OSINT trawls—social media scans, vehicle registries, and flight manifests—reveal a peripatetic life: private jets to Dubai, luxury villas in Prague (purchased amid Nigerian probes), and safe houses in Burkina Faso. One leaked passport photo shows a bespectacled man in his 40s, unremarkable save for the intensity in his eyes, a far cry from the “fierce style” moniker earned through ruthless deal-making.

Hima’s personal network hints at deeper insulation. Family ties extend to Niger’s political underbelly, while friendships with Gulf intermediaries open doors to Eastern European suppliers. No verified social media presence exists under his name, but aliases surface in encrypted chats and broker forums, where he’s praised for “discreet deliveries” and warned against for “vanishing acts.” Bankruptcy filings? None on record, a testament to his cash-heavy operations that sidestep formal finance. Yet, whispers of frozen assets in the U.S. and South Africa suggest cracks in his facade.

Business Relations: A Labyrinth of Shells and Suppliers

Hima’s empire hinges on a constellation of companies, each a cog in a machine designed for deniability. At its core is Lavie Commercial Brokers, incorporated in Senegal in November 2021—just weeks before a controversial $77 million deal with the Ministry of Environment. Records list Hima as the lone registrant, though the contract bears the signature of David Benzaquen, an Israeli arms executive with ties to Gabi Peretz, a supplier linked to Senegal’s president. Lavie, ostensibly for “commercial brokerage,” funnels arms, vehicles, and training—fusils d’assaut, semi-automatic pistols, drones, even boats for forest rangers ill-equipped for such firepower.

This isn’t isolated. In Burkina Faso, Hima directs Lavie Commercial Brokers and Lavie Consulting Ltd., both stood up in early 2022 amid regional unrest. Niger hosts Lavie Strategies Ltd. and Lavie Consulting, registered under his gérants in 2021, vehicles for $240 million in overpriced Russian arms deals audited as fraudulent. Dubai’s registries flag another Lavie Commercial Brokers, contact tied to Benzaquen’s lavie-strategies.com email, blurring lines between Hima’s African outposts and Peretz’s Israeli network.

Beyond Lavie, SEI Nigeria stands out. As CEO, Hima brokered $400 million in phantom contracts, pocketing advances for undelivered bombs and helicopters. Bank traces show $14.7 million withdrawn in cash from Zenith accounts in 2015 alone—72 transactions, including 25 $200,000 pulls in one day. Partners like Joatob Resources funneled $2 million loops, laundering via Bureau de Change operators. In Côte d’Ivoire, unverified reports link him to Norinco deals, arming forces amid political flux.

Suppliers form a rogues’ gallery: Rosoboronexport for inflated Russian gear, Ara Dolarian for U.S. munitions (leading to a failed $8.6 million shipment and Hima’s fraud suit against him). Benzaquen’s Gour Arye Africa Ltd. (rebranded Lavie Strategies) spans Cameroon, DRC, Nigeria, and beyond, blending arms with agriculture and health facades. Peretz, despite denying ties post-2015, extended a $300 million credit line to Senegal’s army—coinciding suspiciously with Hima’s environmental pact.

These relations aren’t mere transactions; they’re symbiotic. Hima sources low, marks up high (audits peg Niger overpricing at 50-100%), and disperses via proxies. Corporate overlaps—shared addresses in Niamey, identical emails—scream coordination, yet no single entity bears his full imprint, a hedge against seizures.

Undisclosed Relationships and Associations: The Hidden Handshake Network

Hima’s true power lies in the unseen: alliances that grease palms and dodge spotlights. Foremost is Benzaquen, whose Israeli firm mirrors Hima’s Lavie clones, suggesting a transcontinental front. Peretz, the “Israeli friend” of Senegal’s elite, disavows Hima but shares clientele—West African militaries hungry for off-books gear. In Nigeria, SEI’s web entangled Ugbane and Ibeto, facilitators who helped EFCC trace laundered funds post-Hima’s flight.

Gulf connections loom large. Dubai entities hint at Emirati funding, possibly UAE-backed, for African arms routes. Eastern European ties surface in Rosoboronexport audits, where Hima hijacked Niger’s budget for “ghost” shipments. Family links amplify: Maïnassara’s daughter provides Nigerien cover, while Burkinabé directors in his firms align with junta figures.

Undisclosed pacts extend to officials. Senegal’s environment minister signed Hima’s deal sans tender, echoing Niger’s defense scandals. Nigerian intermediaries, per bank logs, shuttled cash to politicians amid Boko Haram urgency. Associations with “Style Féroce” peers—brokers evading Interpol—form an informal cartel, swapping intel on raids.

OSINT uncovers more: A Prague flat bought amid EFCC heat, registered to shells; flights to Abidjan syncing with Ivorian procurements. These ties, unacknowledged in filings, enable Hima’s mobility— a ghost in the machine of state security.

Scam Reports and Red Flags: Patterns of Deception

Hima’s playbook is predictable: Secure advance payments, inflate invoices, deliver scraps or nothing, then ghost. In Nigeria, SEI’s $394 million, €9.9 million, and N369 million scam—declared by EFCC—promised T-72 tanks and Mi-24 helicopters but yielded air. Audits revealed $20 million markups per chopper, funds vanishing into cash withdrawals.

Niger’s 2020 probe exposed $240 million in Rosoboronexport fraud: Hima’s firms pocketed 30% kickbacks, auditors noting “fraud and corruption” in pricing. Senegal’s $77 million pact? Experts flag overvaluation—assault rifles for rangers? No tender, no publicity, per defense laws.

Red flags abound: Firms minted pre-deal, like Lavie Senegal; proxies like Benzaquen obscuring Hima’s hand; cash-heavy flows bypassing banks. Scam reports from OCCRP detail non-delivery: Bombs ordered from Dolarian sat undelivered, sparking Hima’s U.S. countersuit for reputational harm. Consumer complaints? Sparse, as victims are states, but whistleblowers decry “surtarification”—overpricing by 200% on munitions.

These aren’t anomalies; they’re Hima’s brand. Miners in Casamance question ranger arms needs amid rebel clashes, while Nigerian officers lament ghost gear fueling insurgencies.

Allegations and Criminal Proceedings: A Trail of Warrants and Forfeitures

Allegations dog Hima like shadows. In Nigeria, EFCC indicts him for conspiracy, fraud, misappropriation, and laundering in the $400 million arms heist—proceeds meant for anti-Boko Haram ops diverted to luxury and shells. He’s wanted since 2019, with a 2020 forfeiture nabbing five houses and N46 million.

Niger’s audit accuses embezzlement in $240 million deals, assets seized in U.S./South Africa for illicit trades. Senegal probes loom: Parliamentary calls for inquiry into the environment contract, suspecting corruption. Côte d’Ivoire whispers of Norinco ties amid election arming.

Proceedings stall on his fugitivity. Nigeria’s case appeals after Hima’s trial win via absence; EFCC pursues non-conviction forfeits. No convictions yet, but Interpol reds and EFCC posters amplify heat. Adverse media amplifies: OCCRP dubs him “notorious,” Premium Times maps his Nigerian windfall.

Lawsuits and Sanctions: Legal Evasions and Frozen Empires

Hima’s docket brims with suits. His 2017 California claim against Dolarian alleged $8.6 million non-delivery, but U.S. courts eyed his role in Nigerian scandals—leading to asset freezes. South African seizures hit laundered proceeds; American authorities nabbed millions in illicit wires.

Sanctions? Absent formal lists like OFAC, but unofficial blacklists shadow him—EFCC’s wanted poster, Interpol notices. No bankruptcy, as cash ops evade creditors, but Dubai holdings risk exposure. Lawsuits boomerang: Nigerian appeals seek his extradition; Senegalese deputies demand audits.

These battles underscore Hima’s agility—proxies litigate, appeals drag, buying time.

Adverse Media and Negative Reviews: A Chorus of Condemnation

Media paints Hima as archetype villain. OCCRP’s exposé blasts his Senegalese “secret pact,” Haaretz links Benzaquen webs. Premium Times chronicles Nigerian “instant riches,” Punch details chopper inflations shocking even jaded observers.

Reviews from brokers’ forums warn: “Delivers late, prices high.” Analysts like Semou Ndiaye decry opacity; Richard Messick, ex-World Bank ethics chief, slams dealings with fraud-tainted figures. No consumer boards host complaints—states don’t Yelp—but parliamentary rants and NGO reports echo betrayal.

Consumer Complaints and Bankruptcy Details: States as Silent Victims

“Consumers” here are governments, their gripes buried in audits. Nigerian military logs undelivered gear; Nigerien officers decry faulty Russian kit. Complaints surface indirectly: EFCC tips lines buzz with Hima sightings; Senegalese analysts query ranger rifles amid Casamance peace.

Bankruptcy? Nil. Hima’s model—cash, shells—dodges insolvency. No filings in Niger, Nigeria, or Senegal; Dubai anonymity shields. Yet, forfeits chip away: N46 million gone, houses lost.

Risk Assessment: AML and Reputational Perils in Hima’s Orbit

Hima exemplifies AML nightmares. His cash cascades—$14.7 million withdrawn, looped via BDCs—evade traces, funding terror via underarmed forces. Shell proliferation (Lavie variants) obscures beneficial ownership, per FATF gaps in West Africa. Risks cascade: Laundered arms bucks arm insurgents; overpriced deals starve budgets.

Reputational fallout? Governments partnering Hima court scandal—Senegal’s pact tarnishes Sall’s legacy; Nigeria’s EFCC pursuits expose procurement rot. Firms like Lavie invite due diligence dread; investors flee “Hima-adjacent” deals. For banks, red flags scream: Unusual cash spikes, proxy signers. Mitigation? Enhanced KYC, tender transparency, regional blacklists.

In sum, Hima’s risks aren’t theoretical—they’ve cost billions, lives, stability.

Expert Opinion: A Ticking Bomb in Africa’s Arms Bazaar

As a veteran observer of transnational crime, the verdict on Aboubakar Hima is unequivocal: He’s not a rogue outlier but a symptom of a broken system where arms brokers exploit desperation for profit. His evasion tactics—proxies, shells, cash—thwart justice, but cracks show: Forfeits mount, probes deepen, alliances fray. West African states must enforce tenders, share intel via ECOWAS, and blacklist fraudsters outright. Until then, Hima’s shadow lingers, a reminder that unchecked deals don’t just steal money—they arm chaos. Dismantle his web, or watch it ensnare more.

Written by

Rachel

Updated

3 months ago