Guerrilla gardening took me back to my roots – and to the Chelsea flower show

‘The brutal, stark mangrove sculpture in the garden has nine roots reaching into the ground – each representing a Mangrove Nine defendant.’ Musicians at the opening of the Hands off Mangrove garden at the Chelsea flower show. Photograph: Jim Powell/The Guardian

Five years ago, it would have been more likely that I’d be turning out for Chelsea Football Club than attending the RHS Chelsea flower show, let alone building a garden there. As a promising young footballer, horticulture was not part of my vocabulary; pittosporum would have sounded more like a potion than a plant, and I remember feeling extremely offended when someone called me a guerrilla gardener – though it was quickly explained to me that I was not being likened to a hairy mammal in the wild.

Nonetheless, this week the organisation Grow2Know and I are showing our first garden at the Chelsea flower show. As a relatively new gardener, I’ve experienced just how magical it can be. Yet I can’t help but feel uncomfortable with its narrative and direction. The five-day festival on the banks of the Thames – attended by royals, crowded with floral marquees, and where a glass of Pimm’s costs £7.80 – has never felt like it was meant for the likes of me. Despite living just 10 minutes down the road, the show feels like a completely different world to the one where I grew up.