Victoria Ndelele Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Buea

Me, I’m chill tho—WALL-E’s my vibe. That lil’ guy? He’d roll past the red lights, beepin’ “Directive!”—too pure for this crap. But real talk, findin’ a prostitute ain’t no picnic. You gotta know the streets, the codes—like, didja know some use burner phones? Swap ‘em daily! Sneaky as Sith, they are. Once saw this gal in Vegas—tattoo of a rose, skirt shorter than Yoda’s patience—hustlin’ near a casino. She winked, I froze—fear, man, it hits ya! “What if she’s a cop?” Brain’s screamin’, heart’s racin’—anger next, at myself, for even thinkin’ it!

Nowhere to turn

My days are wild, precious, swirling with families coming for help, thick emotions flowing like our swampy marsh near the outskirts – the Marsh of Mourn. Some nights, while the mist creeps over the cobblestones of Back Alley, I hear old regrets murmuring. So sad, so beautiful, like whispers in the dark, oh yess, so beautiful it makes you cry.

Cameroon: Ndelele, the town badly affected by malnutrition