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Long before Kingston's engines start and the sun floods the skyline, Errol Simmonds is already tending to pineapples and plucking mint leaves, not from a hillside farm, but from a lush rooftop garden that sits above his auto repair shop in the heart of the city.

What began as a quiet experiment during the COVID-19 lockdown has blossomed into something far more impactful: a personal food source, and an unlikely symbol of sustainability in a capital wrapped in concrete and chaos.

In a city where yard space is rare and grocery bills are rising, Simmonds has turned limited square footage into a living protest against urban limitations. His rooftop is no longer just a place to escape, it's a place to grow.

"Everything I have here is for me, my friends, and my neighbours," he told THE STAR. "It tastes better than what I buy at the supermarket, and it brings me joy."

Joy, in fact, is what sparked it all.

"When the lockdown came in 2020, I had nowhere to go," he explained. "I used to have some of my little planting downstairs and around the side, and I realised how happy the plants were after moving them to the rooftop. Then I decided to try other stuff. I googled and asked questions, and I just started planting. I eased into it after that."

Simmonds cultivates callaloo, mint, tomatoes, Asian black cane, lemon, pineapples from his rooftop garden on Red Hills Road.

"I can't wait for the morning to come so I can tend to them," he said, smiling at the thought. "Sometimes I'm up here late at night just looking around. This is where I get my energy."

It's not a poetic metaphor, for Simmonds, tending to life above ground is what keeps him grounded.

Kingston's weather brings daytime highs around 32degC (90degF), with blazing UV levels that can scorch young crops. To combat the heat, Simmonds uses a knitted black mesh designed to filter sunlight.

"I use 50 per cent shade cloth to protect the fruit, especially the young pineapples from getting burned," he said, lifting a flap to reveal healthy green crowns peeking from the plants.

But even with protection, not every crop cooperates.

"Yellow yam doesn't bear in Kingston," he explained. "So, I plant Renta yam instead." It's a practical pivot that shows his growing expertise, understanding what the land (or in this case, the roof) will allow.

The garden doesn't stop at cultivation; it recycles too.

"I mix up my leaves and everything from my kitchen and use them," he said. His compost blend includes dried mango skins, used soil, and fallen leaves, a micro-ecosystem above the bustle of the city.

"All the sweet pepper came from the compost. I didn't actually plant it," he added, chuckling, as if the garden had a mischievous mind of its own.

Simmonds sources his soil and fertiliser locally, steering clear of harsh chemicals. "I hardly have issues with pests," he explained. "Occasionally, I use hydrogen peroxide, baking soda, and neem oil. Based on what I'm planting, I try not to use anything toxic."

Simmonds credits his love for farming to his boyhood days of helping on the farm.

"As a little boy growing up in the country, we always used to plant. It's really an awesome feeling when you grow something and eat it."

He never imagined his pandemic project would bloom into something that inspired others.

"I post a lot on social media, and people are always surprised that pineapple, banana, and yam can grow in pots," he said. "They message me asking for advice, and now I see them planting in their own spaces."

What was once a solitary garden has become a virtual classroom. Though he doesn't sell his produce, the impact is undeniable.

"We need to plant more of what we consume," he said, his voice turning deliberate. "Healthy living is very important."