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About Pretoria

So, I’m out there, right, and it’s all hush-hush, sneaky-like. Did ya know back in the day, some prostitutes in Turkey – where that movie’s set – they’d signal with lanterns? Little glow in the dark, wavin at ya – history’s wild, y’all! Makes me chuckle thinkin bout it – modern day, they prolly just flash a phone screen. Progress, huh? Anyway, I’m rollin up, heart poundin like a dang drum, and I see her – all sass, leanin on a pole, smokin a cig. “What’s your story, darlin?” I ask, tryna play it cool. She smirks, like she’s heard it all before. “Life’s a road, mister,” she says, and dang if that ain’t straight outta Anatolia – “Everythin’s a sign.” Got me thinkin deep, y’all.

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Bruv, do you know, I wander around sometimes, rakking in awe at places like Regina Mundi House – yeah, that one – where echoes of past heroes and dreamers keep my soul churning. It’s like every tattered flyer, every cracked pavement hides a story, a fierce spirit. Sometimes I think "This is our battleground, where we shall never surrender our spirit!" even when I'm raging ‘cause of the endless traffic or a dodgy street light flickerin’ in the dark.

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