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The sex trade here is arguably just as lucrative and bustling as the nearby Grand Bazaar. However, soon I started to notice men nudging me whilst walking past them. I also noticed that the Black women that I had been greeting, in hopes of engaging them in conversation, were acting distant towards me. I also noticed Black men following me. Thinking that I was being targeted for a potential mugging, I clutched my possessions closer to my body, bracing myself for the worst.
It was only when I asked a Ugandan woman by the name of Ayesha for directions that the real trade of Kumkapi unfolded before my eyes. Whilst walking with her, she was grabbed by a man that she appeared to know.
Ayesha is a prostitute and has been for one and a half years. Turkish men thought I, a Black woman wearing a fur coat, was a prostitute.
And the African women thought I was competition, the new girl on the block. The African men were pimps and intrigued by my overfriendliness. After this epiphany, the trade was impossible to miss. I saw Turkish men walking up to African women that were slowly patrolling the streets and seemed to negotiate with men that would either storm off, or continue walking with them.