Seven defendants should be convicted for taking advantage of the pandemic to steal millions of dollars in taxpayer money and enriching themselves instead of feeding children in need, a federal prosecutor told the jury Friday in Minneapolis as closing arguments began in the Feeding Our Future trial.
"It wasn't a get-rich quick scheme ... it was a program for children," Assistant U.S. Attorney Joseph Thompson said in his two-hour summary of the case. "This program wasn't designed to make people wealthy."
Four of the seven defense teams countered that the jury should find the six men and one woman not guilty, arguing that the prosecution's case lacks evidence and that the FBI investigation it was built on was flimsy.
The closing arguments, which will resume Monday before the case goes to the jury, cap six weeks of testimony and evidence in the first trial in a broader case that prosecutors have called one of the largest pandemic fraud schemes in the country.
Defense attorneys have sought in the past month to cast doubt on what they say was sloppy FBI work, sharply criticizing investigators for not even visiting food warehouses or distributions sites to verify the meals. They pivoted Friday to scrutinize the prosecution's case, saying it told half the story with unreliable witnesses and selective data.
"The whole case is built on speculation," defense attorney Edward Sapone said. "There's reasonable doubt all over the place."
The 12 jurors and six alternates have sat through a lengthy, complex trial, which included more than 40 witnesses and 1,300 exhibits. On Friday, they heard seven hours of closing arguments.
The seven defendants are among 70 people charged in the broader case, all tied to U.S. Department of Agriculture programs that reimburse schools, day-care facilities and nonprofits for feeding low-income children after school and during the summer.
The seven received more than $40 million in federal reimbursements for 18 million meals distributed at 50 food sites across Minnesota — from Rochester to St. Cloud. Prosecutors allege the defendants, who were connected to a Shakopee restaurant, had a "brazen" fraud scheme that created numerous shell companies to launder money, submitted rosters of made-up children's names and inflated meal claims.
They said the seven spent the money lavishly on themselves, including the purchases of a $1 million lakefront Prior Lake property, luxury cars and gold jewelry.
During his closing argument, Thompson recapped some of the text messages shown earlier in the trial between defendants bragging about becoming millionaires, as well as the testimony from FBI and IRS agents and accountants who investigated.
One FBI forensic accountant testified that she traced 300 bank accounts of the defendants and found that only about $3 million of $30 million received by the restaurant at the center of the case — Empire Cuisine and Market — went to food purchases.
"Money was being spent on anything but food," Thompson told the jury.
He reiterated testimony from witnesses, including apartment property managers, park maintenance workers and school leaders who saw few to no meals distributed at apartments and parks that the defendants claimed to serve.
Thompson reiterated the improbability of the defendants' claims: perfectly round numbers of children showing up for meals day after day without being sick, and made-up invoices.
"When you go to Target, you don't make your own receipt," he said.
Defense attorneys argued that investigators never visited all 50 sites or gathered video surveillance. Some sites listed incorrect addresses, so the FBI looked in the wrong places, they said. They said their clients provided real food to real children and used real bank accounts and other official records with their real names, and did not conceal or hide information.
"That's operating completely above board," defense attorney Andrew Birrell said.
If the defendants hastily completed paperwork, defense attorney Edward Sapone said, it was because of the scramble to meet ever-changing rules during the pandemic. "What matters is the food was given," Sapone said.
He accused investigators of conflating defendants with immigrants tied to a Minneapolis restaurant that also is charged in the case.
"Big [numbers] doesn't equal bogus," he said of the large meal claims.
Defense attorneys have cited more than 100 USDA waivers approved in the pandemic, relaxing oversight and rules to quickly get food to children when schools closed. That allowed the defendants' for-profit restaurants to temporarily participate in the meal programs and give seven days' worth of groceries at once, instead of the usual hot meals, which rapidly increased their meal claims, they said.
"It was hard to keep up," defense attorney Patrick Cotter said, adding that his client not understanding the changing rules isn't the same as intentionally defrauding the government. "We don't convict people based on conjecture."
Prosecutors argued that the waivers made the programs vulnerable to abuse. Thompson said in his closing argument that the question at the center of the case isn't whether the defendants fed any children, but whether the meal claims were fraudulent. "And absolutely they were," he said.
The defendants — Said Shafii Farah, Abdiaziz Shafii Farah, Mohamed Jama Ismail, Abdimajid Mohamed Nur, Abdiwahab Maalim Aftin, Mukhtar Mohamed Shariff and Hayat Mohamed Nur — were charged in 2022 with wire fraud, money laundering and other charges.
Their food sites were largely overseen by the St. Paul nonprofit Partners in Nutrition as well as St. Anthony nonprofit Feeding Our Future, which is at the center of the sprawling case.
A former Feeding Our Future employee testified for the prosecution about a "booming" fraud scheme known for rampant kickbacks and bribes, including from some defendants. Defense attorneys said the witness wasn't credible as "an admitted fraudster" who was cooperating with authorities to avoid jail.
Six defense teams didn't call any witnesses. Shariff, the only defendant to take the stand, said he distributed food and wasn't responsible for any financial paperwork. His attorneys also called nine witnesses, many of whom testified about long lines of people receiving meals in Bloomington and about East African immigrant business practices that rely on informal transactions based on trust, not written agreements.
"The government drew an early, wrong conclusion. And they built a case around it," Sapone said.
He wondered aloud why there were so many holes in the investigation of the defendants: "Were these seven people not worth it?"