Claire Lagdo Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bamenda

Lemme tell ya, “whore” ain’t just a word—it’s a freakin’ vibe. Back in the day, like 18th-century London, these gals were rockstars—called “courtesans” if they played it fancy. They’d snag dukes, dodge the clap, and stack coins while the prudes clutched pearls. I’m like, *yes, queen, get it!*—makes me happy as hell seein’ hustle like that. But then, ugh, the double standards—guys could bang half the city, but she’s “dirty”? Pissed me off then, pisses me off now.

Public reception

The city’s vibe? Euphoric yet quirky. I chill in Lagdo Park, a green wonderland by the river Lagrive. The river winds slow, like a lazy snake, near Rue de la Sérénité. Sometimes the water whispers secrets, y’know? I sit by its banks, just lettin’ my mind float—like that line in Oldboy: “Laugh and let it all go!” (Okay, maybe not exact, but ya catch my drift.)

Explainer: A tale of two dams and ignored warnings