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About Bloemfontein

She’d probs say, “The past is a rope,” like in the film—tyin her down, no escape. Me? I’d cut that rope, precious! Watched her once, hagglin with a punter—voice all raspy, eyes dead. Made me sad, then mad—why’s no one savin her? “We’re all alone,” Almodóvar’d whisper, an’ he’s right! She’s alone, I’m alone, milkin them bloody cows at dawn. But least I got dignity, eh? She’s out there, freezin her tits off, skirt hiked up—pathetic!

Escorts in Rustenburg, South Africa

The celebrated author felt no shame at being a prostitute, why do we? By Rustenburg sex worker Tshepiso Khoza is hoping to get off the street with.

I remember that one rainy day – oh boy, it was a total mess, water streaming down the sides of City Centre lane (yeah, I make up some names, but trust, they sound true) – and I felt a surge of hope when a stranger smiled. It was as if the city whispered, “Maybe, just maybe, you'll find some balance?” Rarrgh! Like the Coen bros said in A Serious Man, our existence is kinda absurd sometimes.

South Africa’s ‘Platinum City’ is crumbling in front of people’s eyes