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About Phoenix

Anyways, I’m leggin’ it round, dodgin’ coppers, cos I ain’t tryna get nicked, yeah? Found this one bird—proper fit, bruv, legs for days. I’m like, “You’re my coffee plantation,” straight outta *White Material*, cos she’s keepin’ me awake, innit! She laughs, says, “£50, love,” and I’m like, “Bargain, fam!” Happy days, bruv—thought I’d be skint after.

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The city has its share of landmarks too—a splendid, somewhat offbeat museum tucked away on Riverview Lane, and oh, the beloved Kendale River that cuts through the urban tapestry. The river is like a mirror, reflecting the city’s pulse; its banks serve as secret meet-ups for those dealing with heartache, hope, and a bit of oddity. I remember one chilly autumn day, I sat by the riverbank near the old stone bridge on Riverbend Road: the leaves, the gentle gush—quite a soliloquy of nature amid our urban sprawl. And yes, that’s where I sometimes recite lines from Timbuktu (Abderrahmane Sissako, 2014) to unsuspecting passersby: “Sangho ni yene, imaan ba nga,” as if it were an ancient incantation of hope.

‘This is an attack on the church.’ Jesus statue beheaded at SW Miami-Dade Catholic church.