I Am A Camera

I Am A Camera
Goal: To notice what you notice - Using your 5 senses as interpretation - and to render it without trying to explain or interprete it with logic.

Ultimate Hypertension Clinic

De Excellence Palmwine

Reads the sign at the joint where I take shelter.
I had gone out to get breakfast, koko (a meal like custard with a grey color) and akara (bean cakes) but got caught up in a wet surprise.
         Well, the storm gives me a moment of pause and an opportunity to be a camera for my assignment. So I turn on my brain camera, adjust my lens and... ACTION!
         The palmwine joint or bar which is my refuge in this time of storm is painted skyblue on the outside, gloss it appears to be. The part where I stand is an extension of the joint and is roofed with zinc. On the right side is a canteen, with an extension similar to the one I just described. (Actually, all the shops on this block have structures of this kind set up, probably by their current owners.) The leftside of the bar housed a softdrink depot.
         The paintings of these adjoining buildings had peeled beyond recognition. It could have been anything between blue and dove-grey.
         The canteen has an unpainted table in its extension which is crowded with large, brown coolers, these contain the 'orisirisi' (assorted delicacies) offered at the diner. The madam of the food joint is dressed in 'Ankara' blouse and wrapper and has just the perfect physique befitting a food seller. The entire block is overwhelmed by the aroma of her assorted African dishes I would have considered it a taboo if my mouth was not watering already.
         I shift my lens a complete 180 degrees and zoom in on the depot. I give the proprietor who is also a lady a close up: She is in her mid-40s and fair in complexion especially when compared with the food seller who is deep chocolate brown. She has the body of a model and speaks fluent Yoruba, she has an assistant, a man in his mid-30s, he is wearing a blue red-striped shirt on a faded blue denim and is seated on a benched 'toying' with his handset, a Sonyericsson 750i model. A quickscan of the store reveals crates of Coca-Cola products in their dozens.
         My lenses move again, this time outward. Directly opposite my refuge is an 'Okada' (motorcycle) garage now besieged by a deluge. The riders are no where to be found and the motorbikes all drenched by the African thunderstorm bear the semblance of deserted companions.
         The rain stops as suddenly as it had begun. Now I have two choices: sit and wait out the flood which came with the rain and risk losing my koko and akara to fellow customers or wade the waters... I decided I'd take the plunge. My koko is worth all that and more.