Percy Zvomuya , Oupa Nkosi 12 Mar Driving around Bloemfontein trying to find our hotel, we slowed our car just after an intersection so we could scan the street signs. She said she had been born in Durban, but, despite our assurances of anonymity, would not say whether she worked for a Nigerian pimp. She worked for a Nigerian pimp, she said, and Dianne worked for him too.
Born in Bloemfontein, she had been lured into working for her current pimp by Batista, her Nigerian ex-boyfriend. Noxolo had never worked as a sex worker until she met her Nigerian handler.
She admits to being a frequent user of rock—a cheap but potent hybrid of cocaine and chemicals that forms crystals which are burned and inhaled. Noxolo recently tried to clean herself up and went to a rehabilitation centre. I am dependent on him [her pimp]. On busy nights she can make as much as R, but her pimp expects her to hand over every rand she earns.
Minutes into our conversation, she suddenly begged us to stop the interview, saying her handlers were watching her. When we stopped the car to let her out, we spotted a police van. Driving around the outskirts of the city the next day, we saw a young woman waltzing along the side of the busy road making suggestive hand gestures at passing cars. It was tough. We were expected to bring back R How had she found herself working for the Nigerians?
A friend had asked her if she was interested in meeting a possible boyfriend, she said. She made up to R a day. Leaving the Nigerians had distinct disadvantages, she said. Competition is stiff and you get mugged. In the past month alone eight young girls have been rescued and given bursaries to go to school.
