Ik ben wanhopig, help mij meneer

“Dear Mister Jan

You remember me. My name is Geoffry Ashianor. I am desperate. I drove you from the university to nightclub Kilimanjaro. I am cabdriver but my car is hopeless now. I have no money to mend it. You gave me your address. Send me now, please, I beg you, you're only friend I have on this world, ticket KLM to Amsterdam. The good Lord bless you. I drive peoples in me freetime. My job is policeman. Therefore I write. Unhappiness has bestow on me. I was two days ago assigned to guard heavy criminals in prison. They gave me gun. I stood in front of yale. It was night. Suddenly I heard whispers and I went look. There were friends of prisoners. Many friends, they were armed. They said I go or I die. I said save me live. I said I shoot in air so sergeant knows there is trouble. They kicked gun out of my hands. I ran for life. My life is in danger. Prisoners escaped. The judge will say I am to blame and convict me to death. I'm in big trouble. I hide in village near Ketala with family. Send, please ticket and some money so I can by coat for rain in your country. You can send ticket to me c/o Police Headquarters, Accra, Ghana. God bless you again. Please help or I am lost. God bless your kind gentleman. God will make it good to you. Yours desperate, Geoffry Ashianor.''

    • Jan van Gelderen