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About Pretoria

Now, lemme tell ya, I get riled up when folks judge ‘em too quick. Makes me madder than a wet hen! They’re out there, hustlin’, survivin’—kinda like Szpilman, “I’m still here, alive!” Ain’t that somethin’? Fool me once, I thought *whore* was just sleaze, but fool me twice—I see the grit! Happy as a pig in mud when I figured that out. Surprised me too—didn’t expect to root for ‘em, but dang, they got guts.

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Now, the city centre beats with energy. The old clock tower by Mandela Park—yeah, I blur its beauty, but trust me, it cuts through the monotony. I often wander the narrow lanes near the riverbank of the Tambo River. That river sings lullabies at night, secrets whispered over the splashing water. Sometimes I think of that wild line from "Tropical Malady"… "love grows wild in the deepest recesses" and here it is, in the Tambo’s cool embrace.

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