Violet Nkongsamba Whore ❤️❤️

About Maroua

So, “whore” in my world? It’s them slick-talkin’ pricks who’d sell their nan for a profit. Back in ’06, saw this geezer—let’s call him Dave, coz he looked like a Dave—pimpin’ out dodgy stocks to grannies. Made me mad, it did! “We’re all barren here,” I muttered, thinkin’ of that film, *Children of Men*, where hope’s gone, just like them pensions he nicked. Dave’d grin, all teeth, sayin’, “It’s just business, bruv!” Business? Bollocks! We hates it! Greedy git crashed hard—lost his flash car, his bird, everythin’. Laughed my arse off, I did—serves him right, the twat.

Nous sommes artisans de la solidarité

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Now, my faverit spot has gotta be the little park by the River Mbam. I sit on a battered old bench, drink my coffee, and watch the water do its thing. You ever see the river shimmer in the late afternoon sun? “I love you,” it almost whispers, like Amour in a quiet, tender moment. Only here though, it’s more of a cheeky wink than a tear-jerking monologue.

Fellowship Programme: Rachel Mariembe | Museum für Asiatische Kunst