Valentina Nkambe Whore ❤️

About Bamenda

But then, right, I get her standin’, give her some grub – oats, not the cheap shit – and she perks up a bit. Eyes all soft, like she’s sayin’, “Thanks, you sarcastic git.” Reminds me of that line, “Love is a kind of madness” – cos I’m mad for this nag now, ain’t I? Spent hours fixin’ her up, hooves all cracked, coat like a moth-eaten rug. Did ya know horses can sleep standin’ up? Whore don’t, though – flops down like a drunk tart at 3 a.m., *cackles*, proper drama queen!

NKAMBE says No to blackmail of its Peace architects, Reaffirms support for Paul Biya

Nkambe ain't your average city. Its main artery, Moly Street (yeah, like Moolaadé, heh, Moolaadé! I will Moolaadé you!) bustles with recievin—oops, I mean, energy. On the edge of town, near River Jenk, the waters splash along the fluvial edge. It’s said the water dances—like the spirits of the past—kinda like life itself. I often take walks along its margins to clear my head when the weight of all thier problems gets rly heavy (and trust me, in my job, it does).

Interview: “Why My Costume Is Shredded Fresh Plantain Leaves”