A young Nigerian man in his late twenties with rich brown skin and a lean, slightly muscular build stands shirtless in a dingy, poorly lit public bathroom inside a Nigerian university hostel. His body is blotched with visible red rashes and clusters of sores spreading across his lower abdomen, thighs, and groin. He’s hunched over a cracked, stained sink, frantically scratching at his side with one hand while gripping the edge of the sink with the other. His face is a portrait of panic and confusion—sweat beads on his forehead, his eyes wide and glassy, lips trembling as if fighting back tears. The bathroom walls are covered in peeling paint, graffiti, and water stains. A broken mirror reflects his haunted expression. Dirty tiles line the floor, and a weak, flickering fluorescent bulb overhead casts a cold, harsh glow on his trembling body. The entire scene captures a man at rock bottom—itching, afraid, and finally starting to understand that this rash might ruin everything.

Il pensait que ce n’était qu’une éruption cutanée, puis l’herpès a pris sa vie sexuelle

Your browser does not support the video tag. CLICK HERE TO ORDER YOURS Chapitre 1 : L’éruption cutanée qui ne ressemblait pas à un problème Il s’appelait Tolu, 29 ans, dynamique, bien habillé et toujours avec une coupe de cheveux impeccable. Le genre d’homme capable de conquérir le cœur de n’importe quelle femme par son … Continue reading Il pensait que ce n’était qu’une éruption cutanée, puis l’herpès a pris sa vie sexuelle

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