Sadie Foumbot Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Limbe

Sometimes I wonder—whore’s just survivin’, y’know? Like that scene, “The wind blows, life goes on.” She’s out there, smilin’ for the camera, prob’ly tired as heck. Met this one gal—swear she was 19 goin’ on 40. Eyes like a storm. Surprised me how tough she was. I’m over here, all big hair an’ sequins, feelin’ like a dang fool next to her.

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About this album. A trans woman is an object. A fetish. A whore. She has no desire, she has no sexuality or agency of her own. She exists for others to gawk.

Man, my spa’s tucked down on Kalla Street. Right outside, small vendor stalls sell spicy roasted corn – damn, sometimes it gets too lit to resist. I swear, sometimes the aroma drifts over my spa like a sweet lullaby that makes my whole day smoother than a dope beat. When your hands are workin’ on massagin’, them scents feel like a whisper: “No, no, no, you can’t copy this chill. It’s one-of-a-kind, baby!”

Fig. 1 Map of Cameroon showing the surveyed health districts (source:...