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Nov 19
2007

GRAHAMSTOWN'S RED LIGHT DISTRICT

Posted by Red18 in Untagged 

Red18

This article that I co-wrote was recently published in the RU Campus newspaper
The Oppidan Press
Edition 5, 9 May
By Lisa Brigham and Cara-Ann Carstens

A truck drives past and the driver makes a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it signal to the woman on the corner before driving up Hill Street. He parks in the shadows, 50 metres away from them. The woman runs up to the truck and climbs in. Evidently, prostitution is happening in Grahamstown.


However, when we interviewed Captain JV Naidoo of the Grahamstown Police Department, he was evasive on the subject of prostitution: "I do not agree or disagree that prostitution is happening in Grahamstown." Captain Naidoo stated that if there were complaints lodged, an investigation would be initiated but until then, the police will not take any action.


Sex work is a statutory offence, according to the 1957 Sexual Offences Act. A number of attempts to amend the law and to decriminalise sex work have occured since 1994. However, little real progress has been made and in 2006 the amendments that were made to the Act left the provisions on sex work intact.

A police vehicle slows at the robot but barely notices the sex workers standing nearby. It’s 7:30 by this stage and another woman, Beauty*, takes her place on the corner. Out of the shadows the original woman emerges, pants undone and hair askew. As she walks back to Beauty, it is obvious that she is under the influence and has just accommodated her first client. Beauty rummages through a nearby dustbin for tissue paper.
The street is quiet, so we call Beauty over by flapping a R10 note out the window. Within seconds she is in our car. She carries with her the distinct smell of tobacco and seems disorientated. Behind the shy face, we find a hopeless woman, trapped in the only business she knows.

The R10 we gave to her is the same amount that she charges for oral sex; a mere R10 more and it would be sexual intercourse. Beauty has no family – "no father, no brother, no sister" – and lives near Beaufort Street with her three children. She has been prostituting for the past two years, working most nights and stopping only after she has made at least R50.
Generally, she uses condoms but admits that her clients do not always comply with the rules of safe sex. Beauty cries as she tells us: "Yes, I have HIV." When asked how she feels about possibly giving the virus to her clients she is quiet in thought. "I don’t feel good," she says. She informs her clients of her status but some still insist on unprotected sex and she believes that this is how she got HIV. For some, R20 for sex is a bargain, but with the risk of contracting HIV, it might be an immediate death sentence.

Delia* is another sex worker who works the same corner as Beauty. She charges slightly more at R50 but takes a bigger risk by pleasing her clients and not using condoms. She says that ironically most of her clients are from a nearby church but they don’t only visit her; they also visit male sex workers. These sex workers work nearby and are also from the township. One can easily tell that Delia is a sex worker by what she is wearing; this is not the case with Beauty.


Beauty could be mistaken for a domestic worker from her apparel, so we were curious about her clientèle. Men of all ages and races – "black, white, 19, 69…", all approach her. We discover that Rhodes students regularly approach Beauty for her services. Even more surprisingly, Beauty tells us that she knows of student sex workers from Rhodes. The Oppidan Press has established that sex workers frequent local student hangouts such as SlipStream Sports Bar, Friar Tucks and Champs Action Bar.

Nov 19
2007

The story of my life

Posted by Drucilla in Untagged 

Drucilla
Nov 19
2007

what should be done to all reality TV

Posted by Drucilla in Untagged 

Drucilla
Nov 19
2007

CAD - today's

Posted by Drucilla in Untagged 

Drucilla
Nov 19
2007

HUNT THE GRUNT

Posted by Red18 in Untagged 

Red18

This was an investigative article that I wrote that was published in the Oppidan Press- Edition 4 25th April 2007
Sport for the male chauvinist pig

By Lisa Brigham

If you were a fly on the wall at Friars on a Friday night, you might just fall off in disgust as you discover the despicable depths to which people are prepared to stoop. The name of the game is Hunt the Grunt, and it not only happens right here in Grahamstown but in Cape Town, Johannesburg and other cities with big universities.

The deal is that a group of guys, sometimes a whole residence at a time, pool together money to bet who can score the ugliest girl in the club first. The deeds the guys have to do with the grunt vary from kissing to touching and beyond, which will have to happen in or near the club, at a digs or residence where someone else can prove that the hunter conquered his prey, otherwise photographic evidence must be supplied.

Most guys contributing towards the float are cowardly spectators just enjoying a good laugh at their mate trying to get the unfortunate girl into their pants. Each participant’s contribution varies from R30 per person to R300 per person, so the rewards vary for the goals achieved. If one were to go over and beyond expectations, says a source, then the winner would also get reputation points or "score a few beers".

Nov 19
2007

Blissfully content with you

Posted by Red18 in Untagged 

Red18
 

Blissfully content with you

I see you smiling at me and I don’t know what I did before that smile…
I still wake up some mornings blissfully happy just looking forward to your smile.
I hold you close and take in the warmth of your being, every embrace something I never want to end.
I crave the feeling of your closeness and count the minutes till we may reunite.
I listen to your animated speech telling me of a thousand things that made you go through a thousand and two emotions provoked in the process.
I try to take it all in, sometimes lost in thought of what you’d said before but never inattentive
 Just lost in your stories that keep me entertained, shocked and sometimes in awe of your brilliance.
You take me and lay me down in the sweetest way every time
You lie next to me and breathe contentedly…
Your contentment,
My contentment...
Nov 19
2007

need votes, please support ur fellow blogger!

Posted by Red18 in Untagged 

Red18

Hey guys!!!!

Nov 19
2007

"The Crack Squad Club"

Posted by Bloubulheks in Untagged 

Bloubulheks

     ‘Tomorrow  never comes’ so in the mean time,  Join the ’Crack Squad Club.’ It’s for free, and every body joins it some or other time during their life span on this earth.  Ridiculous would you say? Well you might be a member already, without even knowing it. Did you ever….

Nov 19
2007

Mediocrity

Posted by Cellardoor in Untagged 

Cellardoor
Does anybody ever have the feeling that things were probably better in ye olde times? As I have not even been alive for three decades yet, this is, perhaps, an incongruous statement to make. After all, unlike the stereotypical old men who sit outside on a public bench and pass commentary on our times, I have not been alive long enough to make a distinction between then and now.  Nevertheless, the nature of our times is such that I cannot be lynched for what I say on a weblog and can, therefore, say whatever I damn well please. Joy.

What is the spirit of the age in which we find ourselves now? This is an open-ended question, as I cannot proclaim myself to be an expert on literature, art, science etc. But it seems to me that what is being produced is inferior to the creations of past eras. I suspect that many are crying out "but what of our techonology? Advances being made in Science?" and that is precisely why I left my initial question as open. I can only state my opinion. I say this only because when sports celebrities and pop idols are worshipped (with the nameless masses living vicariously through them); when their works are payed more attention to than works by professionals who spent years acquiring their skill, then I think that something is amiss in our century. When the most popular work of fiction is "Harry Potter", then I think that we are letting ourselves, as a species, slip a little. When the kitsch and the mediocre are given more attention than the brilliant...well...

A thought hit me (like an axe-fiend with a serious grudge) when our Psychology lecturer was discussing the topic of creativity. He was exploring the notion of creativity as a social phenomenon: that, throughout time, people have fed off of the ideas of others living in the same time. I don't mean this in terms of copyright infringement, but in terms of inspiration. For instance, Keats, Byron, P. B. Shelley and his wife (and all of the other philosophers, artists, scientists and poets/authors of that time)...is it a coincidence that so many people could have existed at the same time? The works and thoughts of the Enlightenment...could they have been born independently of the rest of society? If this theory has any merit, then what could we say of our times? What are we "feeding" off of? Cheap gimicks and pornographic magazines? Or is there something nobler to which I am oblivious?

Perhaps my statements depend on too many generalisations. After all, I am not saying that everyone worships gormless pop stars. It is just that when I examine the attitudes of the majority, I wonder whether I'd be happier in a different century.
Nov 19
2007

Precipice of Life

Posted by Kitten in fiction

Kitten

It was not the first time she had been there. It was the place she always went to when things became a little too much. It was one of those scenic viewpoint stops along the Chapman’s Peak drive. You could pull your car off the side of the road and take in the beauty of your surroundings before continuing with your journey. Behind you would be the rugged expanse of the mountain, stretching upward towards the sky, almost menacing at times in its beauty. And then before you would lay the ever-changing face of the ocean, with its varying moods of blue and white. Sometimes the ocean would beckon to her from its watery home far beneath her feet. It would taunt her to step over the little rocky ledge that never really served much purpose anyway. It would be so easy, she thought. Just to take that little step over the edge of the precipice of life. And she always wondered how long it would take for them to find her body. Or if anybody would even miss her.  

“Isn’t anyone trying to find me?
Won’t somebody come take me home

It’s a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Won’t you, take me by the hand,
Take me somewhere new…”







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