Remembering Brixton
In Brixton I found my most beautiful London experience. Emerging from the Underground I was greeted by a sheer mix of races and tribes and nationalities. No tourists here. Londoners in abundance! But Londoners unlike I had ever imagined them to be. Nigerian Londoners. Italian Londoners. Egyptian Londoners. Chinese Londoners. It was like there was an equal mix of every tribe on earth!
On one pavement there was a group of Chinese teenagers break dancing to a gospel song. A few metres away were some young Nigerian men giving away Islam literature.
I came across a flea market in Electric Avenue. Just like the flea markets at home except that the tradespeople were as varied as coloured confetti. Ghanaian selling cloth. Italian selling lamb, Could-be-from-anywhere man selling jewellery. Another could-be-from-anywhere - hmmm- could be Jamaican- selling handbags. Everyone going about his or her own business in his or her own dialect.
I’m certain there are extremely rare, the societies in the world where this sort of mix is prevalent within the same social strata. I found it in Brixton. I am yet to find it elsewhere.
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