I am not talking about my daughter now but a 1940 Bedford Scammel tractor trailer that I have bought to take supplies to Poland and Ukraine and have named after my beloved daughter, who has no interest in living any of her life with me.
This is Verity, the rig that cost me all of my savings

The reason that I have written this post now is because the new number plates arrived this morning, which makes the rig legal, even though, as a historic vehicle, it needs no MOT or tax.

My moral drive is to help the Ukrainians, as I must do something and Verity will take out supplies to the Polish/Ukrainian border, to be distributed.
Given that I have now given up on absolutely everything, because my father and daughter, as well as the rest of the family, have completely broken me and I am so very tired.
But I have one last task to do in my life and that is to help those who are suffering from the war.
I cannot kill myself and so I have decided that after the supplies have been dropped off, I will then go into Ukraine and try to carry out as many refugees as I can. The trailer is 15 feet long and can take a lot of people at a pinch.
I will carry on doing that until the truck is blown up and I die. At least, then, I will die whilst doing something good for the world, even if the rest of my family think only about themselves. There will be nothing left of me and that will suit me fine, because the last thing that I want is for my so called family attending a funeral where they hypocritically look so sad (just like my father did at my darling mother’s funeral, where he put on an act and all of those crocodile tears and where my brother refused to cry, whilst reading out his eulogy to his mother) and with my daughter turning on the crocodile tears. I will then be with my Liesel forever and I will finally be with the one that I have always loved and will be at peace.
I have already bought a load of medical supplies that are not available from the supermarkets (and are sitting in the dining room) and will buy or have donated the rest by the supermarkets.
I cannot fight anymore, even though I have tried so very hard. There comes a point when you decide that you cannot fight anymore against financial and moral corruption and, quite frankly, given the IOW council’s and the government’s total lack of interest to help me help the refugees here, my island and my country are just not worth living in anymore; it has changed so much in such a short time, especially from the time that my little family was in existence, 15 years ago, when it was just me, Liesel and Verity, when we were all so very happy, even if Lies and I knew that she was dying. Those two years were just utterly perfect.
It is not just that but is down to the police’s complete lack of interest in investigating the many crimes that have been perpetrated against me by my father, my daughter, Verity, the rest of the family and its associates.
I have fought for 6 years now. Solicitors, judges and the police have been bribed, whether financially or immorally, because of a masonic link and every avenue that I have taken has always been blocked.
I have even pleaded to GB News and Colin Brazier to help me but they have never replied to my emails. I believe that Brazier and GB News is as corrupt as they come, being financed by the government, through 3rd party investors. Which group of shareholders would pay over £58m to support a start up channel that is chaotic to this day, 9 months after starting? Even Andrew Neil, the founder of GB News, could not take the incompetence anymore and left; I know exactly how he feels.
So, a great number of people have blood on their hands and it is a long list
- My father, William Thomas Hender, a mason, who sexually abused me as a little boy, has tried to bribed me, tried to get me removed as a beneficiary from the trust thus making me bankrupt, who incited my daughter to falsely accuse me of sexual abuse and continues my economic abuse to this day.
- My brother, Martin William Hender, a mason, for conspiring with my father, for his own self interest, to have me removed as a beneficiary of the trust.
- My daughter, Verity Jade Beatrice Hender, who falsely accused me of sexual abuse for a few pieces of silver, paid by my father.
- My cousin, Lori Cameron, who conned me into paying her vast amounts of money,(because I was so close to her) and then stitched me up. A person, who receives monthly money from my father who also owns her house and whose utter loyalty my father has.
- The Welsh police, who refused to act against my cousin, Lori Cameron, who took money from me under false pretences and who put my car on the road, to be vandalised, even though she was supposed to be disabled from a bad fall
- Surrey police, for their appalling unprofessional behaviour, in not properly investigating the false sexual abuse allegations and then, when proven to be false, refusing to act against my daughter for falsifying a witness statement and, without exaggeration, destroying my life and then gagging me.
- Hampshire police for refusing to provide to me, the bodycam footage of my illegal arrest and knowing that if it had been released, the “balloon would have gone up” and a great number of people would have been dismissed for gross misconduct, leading to a huge award of compensation to me
- My family’s masonic associates, for liaising with the trust to illegally reduce my sole source of income, leading to criminal economic abuse, refusing to give me loans to move and for trying to get me removed as a beneficiary of the trust (Ron Downhill)
- The entire legal profession, for taking bribes from masonic contacts, with them first agreeing to act for me and then refusing to do so, leaving me without any professional legal representation to defend the many false accusations directed at me
- The corrupt masonic judges who have dealt with my cases and claims, all of which were struck out for so called insufficient evidence and for working with the police to ensure that I never received justice.
- Olivia Pinkney, Chief constable of Hampshire police, who consistently refused to engage with me and who refused to investigate any of my claims and who instructed the move of Joel Leverton from the Isle of Wight to Southampton, to remove him from any exposure to my multiple claims
- The Isle of Wight police for gross breaches of PACE during my illegal arrest, whereby I was dragged out of my house, even though I suffered from severe agoraphobia, leading to my body becoming catatonic
- The Met Police for purposely burying the very serious allegations of my sexual abuse by my father.
- The trustees of the trust, on which I solely rely on for income, who continue to illegally financial shaft me, all at the behest of my father and the family
and last, but certainly not least, Staff Officer Joel Leverton 17283, who was the bastard who stitched me up, leading to a number of events, culminating in me being in prison, on remand and under constant suicide watch. My life was already severely damaged but this man finished me off, both physically and mentally
So call this a suicide note if you want; I just call it my war of attrition by the very people who I should have been able to trust and to rely on
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