My name is Axel. I am 19 years old and I was born and have lived in France my whole life. I was 18 when I arrived in Hong Kong with 12 kg of ketamine in my luggage. My lawyer told me I am facing 10–15 years of imprisonment. When I heard this, it was the most unreal thing that has ever happened to me. All I could do was accept my circumstances and build my relationship with God while waiting to return to society.
Before doing this “job,” I had a regular life: a girlfriend, work, and I even got an apartment with my friend in 2025.
How it all began was very casual. A mutual friend came up to me, mentioned that a job was available, and asked if I was interested. However, they didn’t know any specifics about what the “job” was. I spontaneously agreed and asked for some sort of contract or contact so I could reach them. Soon after, they told me they would give me a number.
When I finally spoke with that person, they told me what I was supposed to do and reassured me that it was “safe,” explaining that it was impossible to be arrested because everything had been tested and planned thoroughly, and that they had “connections” at the airports who were paid so the bag could not be stopped or searched.
It sounded like a living fairy tale. Unfortunately, it turned out to be the furthest thing from what I had hoped for.
When they reassured me, they mentioned payment of €15,000, with everything paid for—flights, hotels, food, clothing, and any type of leisure. Hearing this made me stop questioning anything. I was fully on board; all I had to do was move a random suitcase from A to B. It sounded like a living fairy tale. Unfortunately, it turned out to be the furthest thing from what I had hoped for.
Once everything was planned, I was told I needed to get on a train in a week. When the day arrived, I got my things ready and set off for Paris. I got on the train and headed to Belgium where I stayed for five days, and while I was there it was like any other holiday. But on the fifth day, they told me someone was going to meet me outside the hotel where I was staying. When they arrived, they gave me a suitcase and I went straight to my flight. I was told to take several photos of my location, the bag, and myself.
I first arrived in Dubai, checked in, and everything went smoothly, which eased my mind. I took my photos, and they asked me to check in the bag. I waited for my next flight, which was a couple of hours later, to Hong Kong.
When I got here, I did the same as I had in Dubai. When I went to pick up my bag, it was the last one. After I got it, I went to leave and go through customs. Customs stopped and questioned me, which ended with the suitcase being searched, 12 kg of ketamine being found, and me writing this to tell you my story.
The harsh reality of prison
Being an “Other National” (ON) in a place miles away from home is a lot of things—none of them easy.
Barely seeing family and having short calls to try to communicate are just a few of the issues with going to jail, especially when it’s not in your own country. My correctional institution is not bad. All the officers respect the rules and the inmates; however, any experience in jail won’t be one you want.
Seeing inmates come and go while you feel as if you have stayed stuck in your case is not something you ever grow to enjoy. I’ve made some friends during my short time here; however, I would have much preferred meeting them under other circumstances.
During my time here, I have been lucky enough to be helped by this NGO named Voice for Prisoners led by Fr. John and friends. They’ve helped me a lot by sending me dictionaries, christian books, SIM cards to call my family, and a couple of treats here and there.
Because of that, the feeling of loneliness has decreased a lot, and it has even brought me closer to christianity and God.
Although the feeling of not being able to see loved ones whenever I want, or to hold my mother, is something you can never accept or get used to, it’s an awful feeling, to say the least. Jails in Hong Kong are a little different from France. For example, here there is no mattress on the cell bed—only a plastic bed with no foam or cushioning. The toilets in male prisons are holes on the floor, which I don’t find comfortable because I have to squat to use them.
One positive thing from this experience is learning how to read, write, and speak English fluently, which has made me able to tell my story and help people understand using nothing but my own words.
From personal experience, I can tell you that prison is not the place you want to find yourself.
It may seem like a no-brainer, but trust me, I know. A lot can happen, and before you know it, you are in the middle of something out of your control. I would like to advise everyone—young, old, poor, or well-off—to be careful of people who may bring you down for their own benefit.
It may not look that serious, but believe me when I say this: you never truly know what someone’s true intentions are.
So remember to stop, wait, and think—and stay 100 miles away from dangerous drugs. Not only personal use can harm your life.
Note: This letter has been edited for grammar and readability. See the original letters images below.
