The Day I Thought I Was Shooting Real Estate… Until Love Walked In

Two nights ago, I wrapped up a long day of wedding photography and cinematic videography in Lagos.

My back ached from hauling the drone around for aerial shots of the couple’s venue overlooking the lagoon, but man, those sweeping views of the city skyline at golden hour?

Pure magic. I’d just packed my Sony A7IV and gimbal into the boot when the notification pinged—a last-minute booking request for a real estate videography shoot the next morning.

The client typed in all caps: “Need professional photography & videography ASAP. Luxury apartment in Ikoyi. Drone shots mandatory. Can you start at 7 AM?”

I chuckled to myself. After 12+ years chasing light, dodging rain during outdoor portraits, and learning the hard way that you always bring extra batteries for drone photography, I’ve stopped saying no to urgent gigs. They usually turn into the best stories.

I replied: “Got you. Send the address. Full package: interior/exterior photos, 4K walkthrough video, drone aerials. See you at 7.”

The next morning, traffic was surprisingly kind. I pulled up to this sleek high-rise, the kind where the doorman eyes your camera bag like it might explode. The agent, a sharp guy named Tunde, met me in the lobby wearing a crisp agbada and a stressed smile.

“Oga, thank God you came early,” he said, shaking my hand vigorously. “The owner is flying in from London this evening. He wants everything perfect for listing—best real estate photography in Lagos, he said. No pressure.”

I laughed. “Pressure is my middle name. Show me the space.”

We rode the elevator to the penthouse floor. The moment the doors opened, wow. Floor-to-ceiling windows, marble everywhere, ocean views that made you forget you were in the middle of a chaotic city. The living room alone was bigger than my first apartment. Sunlight poured in like it was paid to perform.

I started with the basics: wide-angle lens on the Canon R5 for those clean interior photography shots that make rooms look twice as big. I placed my reflector to bounce soft light into shadows—lesson learned after too many flat, dark real estate photos early in my career.

Then came the videography part. I mounted the gimbal, hit record, and glided through the space narrating softly for the voiceover track later: “Welcome to this exquisite 4-bedroom luxury apartment…”

Tunde hovered nearby, whispering pointers. “Make sure you capture the walk-in closet. And the balcony—clients love that infinity pool view.”

“Already on it,” I said, switching to the drone. I’d checked the weather app three times—no wind warnings. I launched the Mavic 3 from the terrace, fingers steady on the controller.

The footage was insane: sweeping arcs over the building, dipping low to show the rooftop garden, then pulling back to reveal the glittering Atlantic in the distance. Drone videography like this sells properties before buyers even step inside.

Halfway through, Tunde’s phone rang. He stepped away to answer, voice dropping low. I kept shooting, but I overheard snippets.

“…yes, the photographer is here… drone is up… looks professional…”

Then his tone changed. “Wait, what? You’re coming now? But—”

He hung up, face pale. “Change of plan,” he muttered. “The owner’s wife just landed early. She’s on her way up. She wants to approve everything in person before we list.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Okay… so we wrap fast?”

“No,” he said, rubbing his temples. “She’s… particular. Hates staged shots. Wants raw, authentic vibes. Like lifestyle portrait photography, but for a house.”

Great. Pivot time. I’ve done this before—turned stiff real estate shoots into emotional stories. I dimmed a few lights, opened curtains wider, placed a coffee mug and an open book on the table to make it feel lived-in. “Let’s make it look like someone actually enjoys living here,” I told Tunde.

The elevator dinged. In walked Mrs. Adebayo—elegant kaftan, designer sunglasses pushed up on her head, carrying zero nonsense. She scanned the room, then me.

“You’re the one doing the professional photography & videography?” she asked, voice calm but sharp.

“Yes ma’am. Just capturing what makes this place special.”

She walked the space slowly, heels clicking on marble. Then she stopped at the balcony. “Show me the drone footage.”

I pulled up the preview on my iPad. She watched in silence as the aerials played—those smooth orbits around the building, the way the light hit the glass.

Her eyes softened. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “But… it’s missing something.”

I braced myself for criticism. Clients always have notes.

She turned to me. “My husband bought this place as a surprise. For our 20th anniversary. He’s been away for months closing deals. I flew in early to see it first… and to surprise him back.”

Tunde froze. I blinked.

“So this isn’t for listing?” I asked carefully.

She smiled, a real one this time, eyes glistening. “No. It’s our new home. I want photos and video… but not for sale. For us. For our family. Something to show the kids one day—how their dad made magic happen.”

My chest tightened. All morning I’d been grinding for a commercial gig, chasing SEO-friendly real estate photography keywords in my head like “luxury apartment drone shots Lagos” to boost my portfolio. Instead, I was documenting love.

“Then let’s do it right,” I said. “No staging. Just real moments.”

She nodded. Tunde excused himself quietly—probably to cancel whatever fake listing he’d prepped.

For the next hour, we created something different. I shot her standing by the window, wind in her hair, looking out like she was seeing the future. Candid portrait photography—her laughing as she opened the fridge like a kid on Christmas. Videography clips of her walking barefoot through rooms, touching walls, whispering “This is ours…” to the camera.

When her husband arrived—jet-lagged, confused, suitcase in hand—she pulled him to the balcony. I captured it all discreetly: his face when he realized, the hug, the tears. The drone hovered just long enough for one final aerial of them together against the sunset.

As I packed up, she hugged me. “Thank you. This is more than pictures. It’s our story.”

I drove home replaying the day. I’d gone in expecting another real estate videography paycheck. I left with raw emotion on my memory cards—proof that after all these years, the best shots aren’t about gear or angles. They’re about showing up, listening, and catching life when it surprises you.

Sometimes the biggest plot twist isn’t in the script. It’s in the people holding the frame. And yeah, those files? They’ll never hit a listing site. But they’ll rank number one in someone’s heart forever.