There's at least one person like Salla in every town.

Salla is a trickster, joker and talker. We saw Salla as he came into the market selling 'bresheh' (breadfruit) and mangoes. His demeanour drew us to him.

"Mi? Mi a house husband! Woman work and min' me," he exclaimed to howls of laughter from those around.

"A mi uncle bresheh mi a sell." Turns out both statements weren't true. Salla, as he prefers to be called, is a farmer.

"If a neva dis, mi would haffi tun tief," he said, somewhat seriously. He was very serious in his hopes for the capital.

"We need a chips factory inna Port Maria. We have breadfruit, banana and plantain. But a peer hol' dung ting. Di system nuh progressive," he said.

Salla also proposed that the market be a two-storey establishment, the upstairs section for clothes vendors while the lower half would remain with the "food people".

Another market vendor asked Salla how many people still do farming.

"Di man dem stop farm and a look other work," he remarked. He thinks a lack of exposure is also hindering the people.

"Di youths dem need fi get representation. Them have skill at football an' dem tings deh but nobady nuh dedeh fi get a glimpse a dem," he explained.

"Tings change. Sufferation a draw out the people dem. Jamaica neva did fi reach yah so. A gun mi want fi fight dis ya revolution yah," he said, to the amazement of those around. But in true Salla fashion, he mumbles, "A likkle joke mi a mek," before he walks off with bag and bucket.