The Shree Emperumal Temple in Mount Edgecombe, built in 1875, is arguably the oldest Hindu temple in the country.
Fifty years ago, a dusty patch of cane fields and gritty dirt was given a name borrowed from a mythical bird. Today, that bird is very much on the move.
By the time I get to Phoenix, she’ll be rising.
Those words, borrowed from Glen Campbell’s ode to Phoenix, Arizona, feel oddly prophetic for our own Phoenix, Durban. Because if you’ve travelled the M25 lately, dodging a pothole here and a philosophical goat there, you’ll have seen it: a suburb once called “the poor cousin of Chatsworth” is now a bustling, vibrant, unapologetically loud-and-proud heart of the north.
Let’s be honest. Ripped from our homes and scattered like borrowed sugar under Group Areas, Phoenix was hardly the dream posting. Chatsworth had a head start. Phoenix had gritty dust, a few brand-new schools, and the kind of “social housing” that taught you to appreciate the word “character”.
