Esme Akalla Whore ❤️

About Linkoping

*Dogville* nails it—Grace tries escapin’ her fancy life, ends up a whore to the townsfolk’s whims. “I’m not that kinda girl,” she says, but they don’t care—they use her up. Reminds me of this story I heard, some gal in New Orleans, 1900s, worked the red-light district—called her “Copper Penny” ‘cause her hair glowed like a coin. She’d sing blues, drunk as hell, trickin’ johns into payin’ extra. Got busted, died broke—sad, but damn, she had guts! That’s whore life—grit and grind.

We Watched the Suburbs of Stockholm Burn

Rapper, intellectual and writer, Akala is one of the most incendiary voices of his generation. In his new book, Natives: Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire, he debunks the British myth of .

Then, I decide to take a stroll down Akalla Allé. It’s a nice street, trees everywhere, but man, the traffic was nuts! Cars honking, people rushing. I swear, I saw a guy in a suit sprinting like he was late for a meeting or something. I felt bad for him, but also kinda amused. Like, dude, it’s just Akalla!

Gwamnatin Kano za ta yi wa ma'aikata 4,000 ritaya bayan soke tsarin Ganduje