Welcome to Portmore
WHAT a gwaan, people? A big, big up to all, especially my Portmore people. A me tell oonu “Portmore fi sure”, now mi see LIME capture the slogan and don’t even acknowledge my input, but that’s ok. My fault for not seeking to copyright it (although truth be told Frisco Kid said it in a song years ago without having heard me mutter it), but a so me love stake ownership to people things.
Speaking of people, Would you believe that some people are still ashamed to say they reside in Portmore? I’ll just keep pushing the message because everybody can’t live in Kingston. Besides Portmore now has ‘uptown’. Oh yes. Places like Caribbean Estate and Portmore Country Club can rival any gated community in the Golden Triangle of St Andrew. Our game has been stepped up, not too shabby for a city in its forties. The recent rains from Nicole did us bad though; the roads are in a deplorable condition. Portmore now has new natural attractions similar to the Grand Canyon, but we’re not the worst, because many roads in town look chakka-chakka too.
Mayor Hinds needs to market us as a premier tourist destination. The campaign would read as follows: come experience the majesty of our toll booth and then you can cruise through the Red Light district of the Back Road on your way to the Twin Sister Caves or for fried fish and festival in Hellshire. You will experience the adventure of navigating the deep and cavernous potholes that line our roadways. That would ‘sell off’ and make a profit for us for sure. We used to get cussing about the mosquitoes, but we’ve had them for so long that we’ve built up immunity, they no longer trouble us. You never noticed that Portmore didn’t even have one Dengue case? We body get so much bite, the mosquitoes can’t find anywhere else on our body to puncture.
I started to fret when I heard that crocodiles were attacking people and livestock in St Elizabeth, because rumour has it that quite a few live in our canals. My neighbour did bawl out sometime ago that he had helped to capture one that had emerged from a canal in Greater Portmore. And he vowed that he was going to get the other one. What led him to believe that only two existed is still a mysteåry to me, because I never know that crocodiles took census. It doesn’t hurt to be cautious, so when me a go in a night time, me walk fast and talk loud and anything rustle a my foot ‘dead like nit’. All the lizards that used to live in my house get notice. After all, they are from the same family, next thing you know the crocs may come over to visit, nope, everybody have to go, even those that were residing there before me. Anybody reading from GP — Greater Portmore, knows what I’m talking about.
Seriously though, when Mr Matalon did a design these houses, a must GP him did a think bout. What a way the house them little and hot? Missis, me turn nudist since I’ve become a resident, because you can’t in you own house and hot so. That’s why I never had a problem putting out the lizards. The first time one come in and back gun pon mi, cause a some gangster lizard I shared the place with (the kind that stares back blankly when you shoo them) I ran out into the yard screaming, wearing nothing but my crush-up birthday suit. Two neighbour boys came to my rescue and got rid of my formidable opponent. Ever since that encounter of the naked kind, every evening I come home, there is a gathering of young males at the gate asking “Miss Melva any more lizard in there?” I usually smile sheepishly and say no. Portmore will always be my home, may she continue to grow. Take care now peeps and remember to follow me on Twitter @ElvaJamaica or email me your comments or suggestions elvachatalot@yahoo.com