The sun cuts October’s chill as I weave through Manchester. I’m walking toward an alleyway garden I’ve followed for months online, but today, I’m not scrolling through photos of tomatoes, berries, and flowers – I’m standing before them.
The stretch of road is nestled in Moss Side, an unassuming part of the city. I turn the corner before the gates, exchanging a smile with parents watching their children cycle up the street. Often dismissed as neglected, it’s somewhere I hadn’t considered visiting until now.
Greenery climbs the brick walls of this metres-long haven, with plant pots labelled in English and Arabic – a testament to the area’s cultural diversity. Festoon lights stretch between neighbours’ fences like held hands. Amid the life is Yasmine, who’s been tending to the garden since 2018. This alleyway is about her personal and community resilience as much as nature.
As we sit together at a wooden table in the alley, I’m struck by how lively it feels here. If I took a few steps backwards, the energy would be completely different. Those still, littered streets feel a world away. It’s the result of years of care and teamwork, and it didn’t come easy.
Yasmine believes gardening is for anyone, regardless of a green thumb. “I was a city girl through and through. I thought growing your own was weird, and I didn’t understand it. Anything beyond houseplants to me was an ‘old-person hobby’,” she laughs. When I ask her how that girl got here, the answer is simple. “Everyone deserves space outside.”
An alum of the University of Manchester, she’s lived here for a decade now, and in this house since 2017. “It just wasn’t very nice!” she admits – “I would open the back door thinking I’d just go put something in the bin, and I couldn’t get outside because there was so much rubbish. A lot of broken glass, fridges, mattresses… It was frustrating.”
Despite efforts, fly-tipping and littering are ongoing challenges for this neighbourhood. As Yasmine shows me around, she picks up an empty glass bottle from the floor. “You can tell someone cares for this space, so I would love for people always to respect it, but that’s just not reality.” She admits that gardening itself is a learning curve. Gesturing to the raised bed beside us, she recalls how much she’s learnt; what grows when, how much watering things need, and just how much work it would be. “But I thought, what’s the worst that could happen? Plants die, but that’s just nature. It’s okay.”
In the face of challenges, neighbourliness is obvious – it’s where the project began. She recalls a spontaneous weeding session with a neighbour as the initial spark. “It’s grown from that one random afternoon in 2018 to now,” into something bigger. Conversation is the string that binds this undertaking. I can hear the conviction in her voice. “Anyone who has heard of Moss Side knows it doesn’t have a favourable reputation. People don’t think of it as an amazing community. We have to prove otherwise,” she tells me. And they have, in no small part due to her engagement efforts.
Yasmine works tirelessly to keep her community clued in. She hosts social meals, knocks on doors with leaflets, and even catches her neighbours for chats by the bins. It isn’t easy to keep people interested, but she remains optimistic. “It provides a challenge, but also means it’s ever-changing. With new people, there’s always someone keen to get started. One conversation goes a long way.”
On the bright side, such challenges force creativity. Yasmine’s relationship with cooking has shifted since growing her own, even inspiring her to get an allotment. “It’s encouraged me to try things I maybe didn’t like before. When you have an abundance of things, you’re not going to cook it the same way every night. I’m a lot more generous too, always cooking and giving it to people, because it’s just nice to share that.”
A few weeks ago, the alleyway hosted its first pizza party. As many neighbours as could fit gathered to talk over a pizza oven and home-grown tomatoes, which feels like what the space was made for. “I’m going to guess at least 10 different countries are represented in this alleyway, minimum. And we all like different things, because of the different comforts we grew up with,” Yasmine says. Events like these don’t just ensure fresh food for families but allow the community to indulge in each other’s joys. Both goals are vital to a thriving community, but have slipped under the radar until now.
Sitting here, I imagine the conversations shared between strangers over soil or soups. The importance of this garden becomes clear – it’s more than just a project. “To think about the types of communities who live with alleys like this, in the North West or North more broadly – we don’t all have access to green space.” Looking around, none of the yards are more than a few metres wide; now, every one of these residents can attune to the planet just by opening their back doors. “On the hottest summer days, being able to come out here and sit with some shade because there’s ivy or a tree – even that is really important. It makes where you live a lot more comfortable.”
This stretch of road has become a vessel for education, connection, and social justice. “It’s the intersection of race, income, nature, and community, coming together in one place.” In an increasingly divided country, I’m inspired by this intentional togetherness. Yasmine’s resilience gives me hope. When I ask what her hopes are for the future, her response is simple; to continue. More social spaces, more growing space, more pizza parties – but this requires funding and support.
“It needs to be a priority by local authorities if that’s what they want to see in their areas, and I think it’s what we know we need,” she says.
Yasmine documents the alleyway’s progress through her Instagram @/mcrurbangardener, as well as sharing the knowledge she’s gained on this journey so far. As I leave, I think of her words – “you can do a lot with a little.”
The Forward Collective 