WEIGHT: 47 kg
Sex services: Lapdancing, Sauna / Bath Houses, Humiliation (giving), Anal Play, Domination (giving)
O n 5 September, at about 10am, the government of Togo cut off the internet. The plan was to limit the threat from a growing number of young people around the country who were mobilising online and talking of toppling the government. The internet was closed for business.
Text messages were blocked and international calls filtered. Leaving aside politics, it was a unique opportunity to observe the effect of internet deprivation on a country. During the week-long shutdown, I talked to friends. I interviewed strangers. For many, especially the young, it was a first taste of how state power could affect their personal life. Initially, people were confused. Some tried restarting their phones or computers.
Internet subscriptions were renewed and mobile data plans topped up. Telecom company employees were accused of the usual appropriation of credits, while engineers were branded incompetent.
After a few hours, though, the penny dropped: we realised the government had shut down the internet. For many people in Togo, the internet is WhatsApp. People went online or bought a smartphone just for WhatsApp. On that first evening, bars and restaurants were deserted. People were afraid. They talked of keeping money in case things went wrong, in case the the banks closed or the government was unable to pay wages.
Many among the upper middle class rushed to the bank to stockpile cash. But nothing was working during the first hours, because the internet had been cut. In all likelihood, sexual activity also dropped off. Togo has high youth unemployment and the economic situation is harsh, but there is a culture of sexual freedom.