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About Bafoussam

Once heard a yarn—some prossie in Bristol tricked a lord, nicked his whole stash mid-shag! Reckon she could, too. “Thou plantest dreams in me skull,” I tell her, all dramatic. She rolls her eyes—fair, I’m a prat sometimes. Still, I’m chuffed—ain’t every day thou meetest a lass who’d outwit DiCaprio himself!

The happy hooker?

Yo, then there’s the winding river – Diwa – cutting through the city like a shiny snake. On lazy evenings, the river glows softly under the moon. I sometimes take my break time walks along the riverbank. Trust me, the scene gets you feelin’ like you're in one of those artsy films – sorta like that movie, White Material. “Where the wind blows, there’s hope,” or sumthin like that, right?

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