“Welcome to Peckham” reads a sign outside the Prince of Peckham pub in South London. Huge, visible from half a mile, crisp white letters on a yellow brick wall resting against the SE15 skyline—a visual proclamation that the Prince of Peckham is here to take its deserved seat at the top table of London venues.

A mural beneath depicts a youthful Black prince and princess. A beautiful triumph of representation in a borough whose population is approximately 50% Black (within the 71% Black, Asian, and Minority Ethnic (BAME) category) in a London littered with statues—from Nelson’s Column to Christopher Columbus in Belgrave Square gardens—which are loaded with racist connotations. The pair look over their shoulders as if to say “you coming in then?” And the answer is always yes. The glint in their eyes, draws in the way I imagine a lighthouse guides ships to safety. Which is an interesting sensation, because pubs don’t always feel safe.

Heading inside is like walking into a warm embrace. A massive feather-adorned chandelier harbouring strong Moulin Rouge energy greets, and a deftly curated playlist (several genres but always excelling in hip hop) plays while the smoky-sweet smell of Caribbean-inspired food elicits a “yeah, I guess I could eat.” The cocktail menu is just the right length and affordable enough that on a confident night you could bosh through the lot, and on a more sober eve save some to try next time. Prosecco is encouraged, and there’s a number of local beers ready for enjoyment. The seating varies from sofas to booths and the staff give the sense that anything else you may need they will go out of their way to provide.

Steering these first impressions is omnipresent landlord Clement Ogbonnaya. Clement always beams about the place, all smiles and all presence, greeting guests and ensuring seamlessness—whether that means picking up empties or an insightful chat on the ethos of the gaff.

“It really felt important to me to be present. Light is faster than sound. People see you before they hear you. It's important to see this journey,” he tells me.

That acute self-consciousness at every level of what both he and his pub represents is empowering to hear, and is part of what makes spending time here so thirst-quenching both literally and philosophically. The thing about Clement is that we all trust him—he doesn’t need to specify he’s a Nigerian-born long time local resident to justify the pub’s slogan: “a pub for South London by South London.” Because the proof is in the pudding, and the pudding is incandescent with authenticity.

I’m keen to hear Clement’s experiences of pubs before owning one. He politely refers to “a gap” in who was being represented and welcomed, noting “people that look like me and identify with me felt the same… Pubs are the cornerstone of British society, and I’m British, you know? I want to walk into a space and feel welcomed, not like a wild west saloon where the music stops as I enter," he says.

Although that image makes me laugh, a pang of poignance hangs there too; both the disproportionate impact of Covid-19 on the Black community, amid escalating police brutality, highlight not just gaps in equality but chasms. I remember the newsletter he sent out in June, with the subject line “Black Is Excellent.” It read: “If you have a platform, a voice or influence we all need to be working together to change the narrative.”

It was a call to action to remind us The Prince of Peckham isn’t a boozer we come to stick our heads in the sand—it’s where we come to empower and protect each other. “Pubs are public houses at the end of the day,” Clement continues. “A lot of people don’t use that language, but pubs are about championing people. This kind of venue is a champion for the marginalised and I implore other pubs to do the same.”

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“I love what the Prince of Peckham has become,” Clement says referring to the community that continues to evolve within it—many coming from across London proving that a ‘local’ is a state of mind. Turning the lens on himself, Clement speaks candidly about his personal growth within the process. We’ve all grown really. This was the first pub I drank in alone and the only pub I can write in free from the pervasive masculinity other spaces don’t just accommodate, but garner. These two things have had a massive impact on me.

““This kind of venue is a champion for the marginalised and I implore other pubs to do the same.””

— Clement Ogbonnaya

I also know all my friends are safe here. A look around always reveals a mixture of local families catching up over craft beer, vintage devotees sipping a “Dark and Stormzy” before tonight's swing dance lesson and LGBTQ+ guests grabbing tickets for the next vogue party. It's a world of tweed suits and Air Force 1s, not because Clement aims to merely cater to Peckham’s myriad energies—but because he’s on a mission to celebrate, uplift and satisfy them.

“If you have a pub in an inner-city community you have to represent every layer of that community,” he says, also recognising himself within this tapestry of contrasts. “None of it ever feels contrived because I personally am that complex." And that’s the thing—we all are—each beholding our own intersections and hankering for spaces to eat, drink, breathe, be merry, sometimes in tracksuits, other times in heels, connect, and just be.

Throughout our conversation, we circle back to two communities in particular. The first is young Black men, and the impact Clement strives to have on them. "I really want them to identify with me and see this space as ours, see we can make it happen on our doorsteps. We can achieve [it], we are amazing,” he says with all the purpose of a barman slamming a tequila shot on the counter before serving the chaser. “Don’t get me wrong, I was born in Nigeria, I came here when I was 7—I've faced many challenges.”

The second community Clement affectionately calls “the elders.”

“I’m African so elders are important to us. When I see aunties and uncles come in I’m gassed—I feel like I’ve arrived,” he nearly sings. At a historical moment where older people are being cravenly overlooked it’s refreshing to hear how integral they are here at the Prince of Peckham.

Speaking of that moment, there’s also—following the tragic murders of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd—a renewed surge in online conversations about the far longer-term endemic of racism. This has brought with it an emphasis on spotlighting Black businesses. While the stream of tagged posts has largely been joyful, troubling responses have emerged too, some expressing disbelief that the Prince of Peckham is Black-owned. “Why can’t we believe it’s Black-owned!?” Clement demands. And that’s a question for us all because as he said in June: we’re all complicit in re-writing the narrative.

While the pub has been closed during lockdown, our only window into the Prince Of Peckham has been through its Instagram feed. The fact this beautifully curated page is abundant with photos depicting Black joy is profoundly important. Sharing visions of fun, frivolity and success in a time where dehumanising imagery has become so normalised is another one of the many ways this pub reclaims the narrative. These images are magnetic, to say the least—in me they always set off an “I’ll have whatever they’re having”.

I’ve always been curious about what the pub’s most popular drink is. Without hesitation Clement anoints “The Prince” as everyone's fave—and I know the sweet, velvety elixir all too well. Clement coos, “I challenge anyone to find a nicer rum punch from here to Jamaica!” His “Lazy Old Fashioned” is also perfect. Always served at the crucially correct temperature—ice-cold; enough to chill the throat as it warms the chest.

Every night a constant carousel of staff traverse food from perma pop-up, White Men Can’t Jerk. The crispy buttermilk chicken wings. which arrive cascaded in finely sliced chillies and swimming in a honey-chilli glaze. have accrued a passionate, word of mouth following. For full time—but often disappointed—carb enthusiasts like myself, the curry goat croquettes and jerk fries will fill the gaping void left by beige pub grub, providing the much dreamed about highly seasoned stodge required to soak up Wray and all his nephews.

Suffice to say it’s a hard pub to leave, and over lockdown Clement worked to make it even more irresistible—an upscaled outdoor area and a basement bar are among the new features. After this isolated and politically tumultuous period, inclusive and freeing spaces will be needed more than ever. These are the barstools from which we’ll build the future because we feel nurtured enough to do so.

“Our customers are important to us, we want everyone to have the best possible time,” Clement tells me. “Everyone has to feel royal, hence ‘The Prince’ of Peckham.”