Megan Ladismith Prostitute ❤️

About Cape Town

Me, I’d craft a violin for one, swear I would. Somethin’ dark, sultry, with a tone that’d break your heart. Play it and hear her story—grime and grace all mixed up. “The show must go on,” like they say, and these gals keep goin’, don’t they? Tough as hell, funny too—imagine one laughin’ at a john’s bad wig. Ha! I’d pay to see that.

Sex worker talks about her harrowing life on Ladysmith’s streets in KZN

Women, believed to be prostitutes, allegedly started a fire inside the house.

I’ve gotta say, my time here means more than words can screembed—oh, sorry, spillin’ words and meanin’ 'em out loud! Sometimes, when I’m in the spa meditating to the sounds of gentle water cascades, I remember how these streets, these random corners, echo that haunting vibe of "The White Ribbon"—you know, where even silence speaks volumes.

Kannaland Big Walk this Saturday