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About Polokwane

*“Lord, forgive us,”* like Ida’d whisper, but this bird, she don’t pray – she survives. Caught her nickin’ a sandwich from a bin – “Gotta eat, Oz!” she grinned, all cheeky. Surprised me, that grit, proper gobsmacked. Reminds me of Ida’s silence, that quiet strength, but with a filthy laugh and a “sod off” for coppers. *Mumbled incoherence, “Sharon!”* She’s a riot, swear down, once kicked a geezer’s shin for hagglin’ – “I ain’t a bleedin’ car boot sale!”

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First off, Ndevana's streets, like Badger Ln and Croc Alley, are as grubby as they sound. I’ve seen more passion in a dead cactus. My favorite spot? Nah, don't get me started. The Sexologist’s Corner near Liberty Park – not like I care for sex, but hell, people are wild and it makes for some fun observations. The park is full of odd lovey-dovey behavior and vintage sculptures that remind me of "Carlos", like when Olivier Assayas said, “Time is precious, don't waste it and enjoy your freedom.” Yeah right, freedom in this concrete jungle is a myth.

Organisers of the bare-fisted fights craze in Venda are unfazed that the bloody contests pose a danger of spreading HIV-Aids