Nova Nkoteng Brothel ❤️❤️

About Limbe

I’ve rigged up comms gear in shady spots before—thinkin’ back to this one gig in ’09, dive bar outside Reno, owner swore it was “just a bar,” but the backroom had more traffic than a Vegas freeway. Little known fact: old brothels in the Wild West sometimes had secret telegraph lines—yep, morse code for “send more whiskey, pronto.” Surprised the hell outta me when I read that. Made me happy too—history’s got a twisted sense of humor. But modern joints? Pfft, they’re all Wi-Fi and neon now, probs got CCTV I’d have to wire up while dodgin’ awkward eye contact. “What is this body without organs?”—Godard again. Brothel’s like that—chaos, no center, just bodies and cash swappin’ hands.

The Sex Trade, Part 1: Pleasure, At Any Price

So, if ya roll through Nkoteng, let your heart lead ya, soak up every wild moment, and remember: “In the Mood for Love” ain’t just a movie, it’s a state of mind, fo’ shizzle! Peace out and enjoy the ride, my friend – dis city’s got plenty to show ya, nonstop!

Labor abuse and work accidents on plantations of Cameroon’s largest sugar producer