Shortly after I took this photograph I saw a man with a ruined arm walking away from me, towards the door. I raised my camera but he saw me and objected (fair enough). I explained that I was just taking photographs in the market but he tried to eject me. I said that I was with my friends, the family in the next photograph, with whom I'd been speaking. The family man told the angry man to leave me alone. He then mimed to me that the angry man had been drinking alcohol.

Behind him the angry man stood in a doorway and made gestures which indicated that he was going to kill me, perhaps by cutting my throat. I wasn't sure how he would do that. One of his arms was useless: the bones between the elbow and wrist had been destroyed some time ago, but the skin was intact (as presumably was the blood supply), so his hand hung and flopped like a glove with no muscle control at all, with a couple of inches of empty skin between it and his elbow. I kept an eye out for him while I remained in the market.