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About Douala

So, one night, I’m done haulin’ hay—friggin’ exhaustin’, man! Hands all gritty, back achin’ like I wrestled a pig. I think, “Marge’d kill me, but I’m curious!” D’oh! Ain’t lookin’ for love, just a yarn to spin. I roll by this dive bar—neon sign flickerin’ like it’s drunk too. See this gal, all fishnets and attitude, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Every family’s got its mysteries,” I mutter, quotin’ Sarah Polley—ha! She’s smokin’ a cig, givin’ me the eye. I’m like, “Homer, don’t be a dope!”

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Now, there's that big ol’ market square, Market Central, where the locals be chattin’ and haggling. I once gave a massage near it (yeah, right in the buzz of it all) and man, the energy was just wild. I remember mumblin’ “everything’s falling apart, but oh my God, we still love this crazy life,” kinda like that line in Children of Men when, you know, hope's scarce. "The human race is in trouble" kinda vibe, but we keep pushin’ on—y’all feel me?

The triglossic structure model (Adapted from Batibo 2005: 17-18).. Ex-colonial language: