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About Garoua

So, I’m thinkin’, back in Moscow, saw this gal once. Skinny, shivering, red heels—classic. Hid near Gorky Park, blendin’ with the night. “I am the weapon,” Carlos whispered in my head. She wasn’t no weapon, just desperate. Made me mad—pimps runnin’ the show, scum everywhere. But happy too—found her quick, cash ready, no fuss. Surprised me how fast she haggled. 500 rubles, done deal.

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If you are dating six boys,never call another girl a prostitute. You are in the private sector,she is in the public sector.

The city’s got a vibe now – even the rivers, like the one along Ndu Road, whisper stories I barely catch. They remind me a bit of the poetic lines from Timbuktu – nature’s own way of telling our tales. And let me tell ya, every stone and corner feels meaningful, like even the potholes have feelings.

Bamenda protests: Mass arrests in Cameroon