Layla Ladismith Brothel ❤️

About Port Elizabeth

So, picture this: brothel, right? Ain’t just some spot where dudes roll up lookin’ for a quick fix—nah, it’s a whole damn scene, a stage, like Llewyn tryna find his gig. I’m peepin’ it, and it’s wild, yo. Back in the day, like 1800s, these spots was poppin’ in places like New Orleans—fancy joints called “sporting houses,” all dolled up with velvet and chandeliers. Rich cats droppin’ stacks just to vibe with the ladies. Little known fact, tho—some of ‘em girls was secretly runnin’ the show, stackin’ paper, buyin’ land, flippin’ the game on the pimps. That’s gangster, fo’ shizzle! Made me happy as hell hearin’ that—ladies hustlin’, turnin’ tricks into power moves.

Ladysmith moves to revoke massage spa business licence over bylaw violations

Twenty-year-old Ngwazi (her sex worker nickname) has been a 'lady of the night' for a few months now, but her haggard face tells a different story.

I work at a little spa right on Rutland Ave. Haven't you seen it? It’s a chill zone where you can melt away the stress. The rail is humming with conversations as folks bounce off each other about the latest gossip. I get to know a bit of everyone. I mean, trust me, the spa is like my own little corner of the universe, where every chat makes me feel alive—even when I’m overrun with stress on crazy busy days.

The good, bad and ugly: a tale of rural rubbish dumps