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About Polokwane

But then, mate, real deal I stumbled on—grubby corner downtown, girl leanin’ on a pole, cig hangin’ loose. “Let me in,” she whispers, like Eli in the flick, all mysterious, got me hooked. Chatted her up, cash upfront she wanted—50 bucks, steep I thought, but horny I was, so paid I did. Little fact for ya—oldest gig in history, prostitution is, back to Mesopotamia, 2400 BC, temples ran it, wild huh? Surprised me that did, history nerd I am.

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The article tells the story of a woman who has been forced by the harsh economic realities in the Eastern Cape to venture into commercial sex work.

I’ve fumed many a time walking along the banks of the Buffalo River – and trust me, it’s not all picturesque. Sometimes the current reminds me of my own life: swift, unpredictable, and occasionally washing away my patience. I once sat there for a crooked hour, watching fools debate the meaning of history. "Look at that!" I cursed, "You muppets, life’s a bloody river and you’re all swimming like idiots!" And damn, those words echoed in my head like a Gordon Ramsay rant.

Makhanda finally has sufficient treated water