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About Kumba

So, I’m struttin’, all high and mighty, sneer on my face, coz who’d dare cross me? Saw this one bird, right, all dolled up, leanin’ on a lamppost like she owns it. Reminds me of that line, “You see everything, but understand nothing.” She’s givin’ me the eye, and I’m like, “What’s yer game, love?” Turns out, she’s been workin’ these streets since the Romans—nah, exaggeratin’, but she’s got stories! Said some geezer once paid her in goats. Goats! Laughed my arse off, I did—made me happy for once.

How to Spend 48 Hours in Ngaoundere

Groupe de rencontre avec les prostituées de ngaoundere - FacebookMissing: prostitute.

Me, as a sexologist, I sees the hidden passions of these narrow alleys. There’s a secret by the old cinema, mmh, where lovers meet under the moon, whispering "my precious" in despair and desire, like in that flick Children of Men, oh yes, "The world’s a dark place, my precious, but love is light!" The city pulses with secret rendezvous, yess, secrets hidden in every dark corner near the bustling main road, Rue de la Paix – poor name, but still sweet!

Figure 1: Mâle adulte zébu Goudali, type Ngaoundéré pie rouge.