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About Turin

Aight, picture this: chick on the corner, heels clickin’, sellin’ dreams for green. She’s a ghost, fam, a shadow dancin’ in neon. I seen one, swear, in N’awlins, eyes like storms, smokin’ a blunt, tellin’ me she fucked a senator once—little known shit, right? Blew my mind, I was like, “Damn, girl, you a legend!” Made me happy, real talk, ‘cause she owned it, no shame. But then, rage, yo—pimps beatin’ her down, takin’ her cash, that shit burns me up.

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Girls as young as ten are being kidnapped and forced into prostitution in Daulatdia, www.facebook.com of the few Muslim countries where prostitution is tolerat.

Finally, the rain stops, and I’m ready to head home. I walk back through the streets, and everything looks fresh and shiny. Robbiate has this charm, you know? The old buildings, the cobblestone streets, it’s like a postcard. I’m feeling a bit better, even after the crazy day.

Prof Hafi among Global Thematic Merit Icons of the Decade