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About Kumba

I spot her – legs like a weapon, leanin on a lamppost. She’s got that *White Material* edge, y’know? Like she’s seen shit, lived it, could gut you with a stare. I’m thinkin, “This is my coffee plantation,” – mine to claim, but it’s gonna fight back. I saunter over, all cocky, but my heart’s racin – what if she’s a cop? What if she’s packin? Paranoid much, Edna? Chill, babe.

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I remember my first night at Riverbend Park. Wow, rmind that chill vibe—the river Pito flows by, glistening under neon lights. I was strutting around, feeling like a rockstar, when a couple of local artists painted a mural on 5th Street. Kinda scenic, ya know? That night, I felt the soul of Pitoa (cm). “Then I saw that you were my soul, and my heart.” – straight out of Tropical Malady, baby!

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