Stella surely must be the cutest little refugee in all Senegal if the photo she sent is anything to go by (above).
The photo we have sent off to her in return is this one, surely a poor trade.
Our correspondence begins with this email that dropped uninvited into our inbox. We will surely let readers know of any follow up correspondence…
How are you today?, I am more than happy in your urgent email to my email, how was your day today? Mine is a little cold here in Dakar Senegal. My name is Stella willson 23 years old, single and never married, I am the only daughter of my Father, I am from Rwanda in Central Africa and presently i am residing in the camp here in Dakar Senegal as a result of the civil war that was fought in my country a few years.
My late father, Dr. James Willson was the managing director of the president (WILLSON INDUSTRIAL COMPANY LTD) in Kigali, the capital of my country, and he was also the personal adviser to our former head of state before the rebels attacked our house one early morning and killed him with my mother in cold blood. I escaped death because I was in school when the rebel attack our house and I could make my way to a West African country Senegal where I am now living as a refugee. Want to know more about you. Their likes and dislikes, your hobbies and what you are doing presently. I’ll tell you more about myself in my next mail. Attached here is my picture. Waiting to hear the quicker you. My compliments.
My dear Miss Stella,
Thank you for your email. It has done much to cheer up a lonely old man.
To answer your question, I am fine, but I was sad to hear of your tragic story. I offer my heartfelt condolences about the terrible murder of your parents.
Looking at your photograph, you must be the prettiest girl in the whole refugee camp. Tragic events, I feel, are somehow only more tragic when they happen to pretty girls like you. It is heartening to know that you still have computer access at the camp and testament to the great work of the Red Cross.
It is marvellous that in your present predicament you are still able to think and converse with others.
To answer your questions about me, there is not much to say, really. I am a lonely bachelor, living at home, here in Sydney, Australia. I recently received a multi-million dollar payout as a result of a severe repetitive strain injury following years working in the chicken sexing industry. Maybe this sounds like a joke to you, but chicken sexing is actually very important, as all our chicken processers need to know whether they have a hen or a rooster. I was the best in the industry, but demand in my services became too big. Something had to give, and it was the tendons in my wrist. Nowadays, I type only with one hand.
Unfortunately, because of my crippling injuries, I have little to offer a beautiful young woman like you. I spend most of my days at home working on the computer. The few girlfriends I have had complain I have dreadful halitosis, and I am resigned to spending my life alone – lots of money, nowhere to spend it.
I would love to take this further, but must admit I am just a lonely old man. I attach my photograph as evidence.
Good luck in the refugee camp.