Hoe 2.0: My week in review: A view of my weak rear

“Jou toet gat nog uitval”- My eloquent mother, presumably referring to my many pregnancy scares, lack of wearing underwear and other general hygiene concerns.

My mother always had a sixth sense.

Like most of the years prior to 2016, I was thrown a curve-ball of note when I finally dragged my thread-dangling poes to my mother’s female doctor earlier this week.

And again, my life was changed forever.
As always, context:

In the beginning of the month of love, I woke up with a burning sensation massaging my recently chaste play area.

My celibacy vow more than a year strong, I felt confident that for the most, a spider had made its home in my warm moisture.

One can only hope.

Regardless, after my acidic urine resulted in our puppy laden two-ply removing my skin [Because you know, you can’t wipe an old trick with new dogs- or something], I did what any responsible adult woman in her late twenties does…

I showed my mommy.

Now, I have been plagued by bladder infections for most of my adult life, which I assumed was the result of letting niggas hit it raw in dingy bathrooms one too many times. [I never sat on the toilet seats though, how awfully common].

“Nee fok Shana, jy bieter Dr Lagardien toe”.

Dr. Lagardien practices in Lenteguer, so I held out for a few more days, walking on my toes at work, and dabbing strategically, after holding my piss for Guinness.

Then, I remembered that I had had these symptoms before…. a few times, when I had dated a man who wasn’t so selective with his screening process….


“Good Morning baby”

Lyle looked at me from the lower side of our blow up mattress. At this point I wasn’t tired of our Cape Flats romance. The air wasn’t thick, and the sagging Aerospace was evidence of that.

Now, at the time, the lack of money, food and friends left very few activities, but luckily for me, he was ‘easily entertained’. My days were spent building core strength while attempting different positions on a bouncy house.

I used to be so toned.

We usually ended up settling for the floor or kitchen counter, though. [It isn’t mossag if you don’t have dite]

Regardless, the debauchery was delightful.

But apparently, the party continued whenever I left for work.

At the time, I was the Editorial Assistant for a large company in the CBD. I worked very long hours and he had the entire day to himself to not cook, or clean, or contribute anything besides piel.
[This is a story I have never divulged, but it informs the core. It is not funny. It is not for entertainment purposes. It merely is what it is.]
One day at work, I fell ill.

Very, very ill. 

My insides were burning, uncontrollably.

I walked around for a while and when I surrendered and went to relieve myself in the ladies room, the blood trickled down my leg.
I wasn’t on speaking terms with my mommy.

Now, never being one to take the day off, my boss didn’t think twice about excusing me early from the office. I tried to call Lyle, but went to voicemail numerous times.

The drive home was excruciating, but at that point, I didn’t know what pain was.

Midday traffic prolonged the journey just enough for me to arrive home and find a private party in full swing[ers]…

I will never forget the smell of Turry that came through our bedroom window.

They both looked up at me… The aerospace was the only thing in the room not completely frozen….

….. “Nee fok Shana, jy bieter Dr Lagardien toe”.
Ma. Se. Poes. 

I emailed my boss that I would be in late, and messaged my new boyfriend- saying that I was going to have my elusive vagina examined.

And as we are both born again Christians who avoid anything Jesus wouldn’t do, this was not how I planned to introduce my vagina… as a whole.
“Baby, I’m not going to work, I need the doctor.
“What’s wrong baby still your bladder?”
“Yoh.. Insha’allah baby”.
I entered the surgery.
“Number 5, Haai is jy nie Genever se dogter nie?”

Oh Lord.
Two hours of sitting on my hip later, and I went into the consultation room, confident that I was overreacting.

“Hi Sharna… How is your mum? I haven’t seen you since you were a child. You look good”
“Thank you doctor”

After explaining that since being twelve I have had two kids, and I am still not married… I explained my symptoms.
“Well.. It sound like a UTI. Let’s have a look shall we?”
And as if on autopilot, I laid on the bed, knees up, spread eagle like a motherfucker.


“Whoa, okay this is a game-changer” she whispered. “Get up, we need to chat”

Ironically, not the first time someone’s tune had changed while staring up my urethra, frankly….



“Shana, have you been promiscuous in the past?”

I fought the urge to send her a link to my blog. “Not really doctor”…

“I used to date some-one who had very little regard for me though. He died.”

… But obviously, he can still hurt me.

I sat at the Passion 2016 conference watching the many different types of Christians that have been my punchlines for many, many years.

Never one to raise my hands in the air for anything, I felt a mixture of embarassment and fear. What if someone I knew saw me? My Jesus-Journey had been secretive for the past year.

Let me tell you why…

Who would believe me?

Now, bear in mind that I have spent the better part of the last 20 years working the pole like a run-away for your brothers, husbands, uncles and distant cousins for no other reason except that I wanted to. My life fell apart and I turned to the one man that I had made the butt of my jokes. So I was ashamed to say to my many readers, friends and even acquaintances that I had become a sell-out. A religious academic.

“Mommy, I gave my life to God”
“En jou toet?”

Good talk.

But yes, the change in my Facebook demeanor is directly related to a pact I made with God that I would change my life. If the fire in my loins are anything to go by… I have no desire to descend into total damnation [probably in the company of your brothers, husbands, uncles and distant cousin… Heads up]

The pastor spoke directly to me from his stage f0r two hours, about how the past was over. He proclaimed ‘Tetelestai!’, your sins are forgiven… leave your burdens at Green-point stadium.

I threw Lyle’s belongings I had taken with me into the bin outside the stadium. 

I felt free as I walked away.


I had followed the instruction, oblivious to the fact that a few days later my past sins would catch up with me.

‘Leave your sins here, you are free’ he said.


I suppose I should have kept the I-pod and thrown my poes in the bin instead. 


“Okay, this is a game-changer”

I put my panty back on and sat next to her desk.

“Don’t be alarmed… but it looks like you have Herpes Genitalis

The silence rang in my ears for what seemed like 15 minutes. 

Cupid’s Disease in February.

Look at that, a post-mortem Valentine’s Day gift. Themed and everything. I am a sucker for Irony.. and naaiers. 

“Do you now where you could have picked that up? scarring suggests you’ve had it for a very long time”. 


They both stared at me through my bedroom window. Keeping a straight face on a bouncy house is very difficult, especially if you are both facing the same way. 

There was no condom wrapper on my floor. 

In autopilot I entered the house and ignored the situation completely. i had no scream in me. I remember going straight to the shower. Letting the warm water accompany my bloody urine.

Lyle laughed from the other side of the curtain.

“She left. Are you kwaad. I’m geroek man. Yoh I’m kak sorry”.

I dried myself, and went to lay on the couch. I found a clean blanket.

“I want you to leave”

“You juss. make me leave. Dnt go on for kak. We were smoking and I didn’t mean it… I smaak to take a naai”….. 



I contemplated revealing this part of my journey for a very long time. I sat down to write at least seven times. My friends and family who I confided in, told me that I would be judged if I spoke about the last few weeks.

But that’s the point of the vow I made two years ago, to help women. 

If knowing my story doesn’t warn you about the dangers of the men that lurk in the light, what will?

You wanna go for the abortion or catch the disease?

I’d rather you read about mine. 

I’ll take the judgement, the shame and the burn for both of us.



I don’t have a pee [cos i’m bung]

I’m pretty sure you can see me in HD though [But that’s a different story]


I am better

I am stronger


Hoe 2.0







2 thoughts on “Hoe 2.0: My week in review: A view of my weak rear

  1. Wow! I am amazed at how strong you are! You are litteraly helping others, unless the dumb hoes have that “it aint gonne happen to me” syndrome, we need more women like you, especially in the coloured community!!


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