Isabelle Bamendjou Whore ❤️

About Douala

I’ve sniffed out some dirt, see? Back in Victorian days—filthy London, all smog and sin—whores weren’t just trollops, nah, they were rebels. Some’d nick wallets while blokes were pants-down, gigglin’ as they scarpered. Made me grin, that—pure mischief, my style. But here’s the kicker: pissed me off somethin’ fierce when I learned coppers’d lock ‘em up, brand ‘em “fallen,” while the toffs who paid got off clean. Hypocrisy, mate, stinks worse than a troll’s arse.

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Cool spots, secret joints—like that little cafe on Nango Street. They serve yummy suya! A hidden gem, I swear! I even coded half my app there. True story: a brainstorming buzz like nothing else!

How students in Cameroon are fighting corruption in schools