Abused tiles bear the scars of a relentless traffic of people marching above. The sheer abundance of shoppers and sellers outclasses the vibrancy of a tropical rainforest. They are like working ants buzzing around an ant hill. Weighty concrete blocks, anchoring many of the stalls and seller’s abodes, are the only saving grace from them being washed away by a tsunami of hand bags and shoulders. The market has only just opened yet people throng with anticipation to seek out what bargains and commodities they can hopefully discover.
A young teenager, dressed in skinny jeans and a crimson jumper, has earphones plugged in which offers her respite from a cacophony of deafening, insolent children surrounding her. Although she is thin and agile, she is unable to avoid the certain delinquents who think they are in a game of bumper cars. Engrossed in her music, she subdues any desire to lash out. Peace is restored to the area after the children, who swarmed like angry wasps, were halted by their parents.