Tap…tap… tap was the sound of the torch on our car window. The light pierced the screen like a rifle bullet.
“See eh, no give them anytin o dey must learn” the driver muttered.
I was about to learn also. The initial officer who stopped us opened my side of the door and asked me to remove everything in my pockets. The smell of alcohol was clear from each word he said. First I was body searched. The usual frisk pat downs but this one included a side of invasive searches of my private area. Two other officers were interrogating the driver but I couldn’t smell their words from across the car. Next was a wallet search. He was probably hoping to find some cash, dollars, euros or naira but saw nothing but brown leather.
“I told you I don’t have anything, If I have I for give you now”
He ignored the response and zoomed in on my ID.
“Which kind ID be dis?” the officer said. “It’s a UK one” I answered.
Then my phone rang. It was my Uncle. I answered the call while he diverted his attention to the driver.
“Yo Unc, I’ve just been stopped by the feds, I’m literally round the corner like a few mins away” – “What??!” My uncle responded. “Okay I’m coming now wait there”.
After what seemed like ages the officers eventually let us go. Putting our seatbelts on the driver kissed his teeth:
“Stupid people. What exactly are they looking for in the gas tank? Instead of dem to stop the real criminals dem dey harass us.”
He couldn’t have been anymore right. We reached the front of the hotel where my uncle and a few staff members came to ask us if we were alright. We responded yeah. The driver even laughed it off. He said he’s used to it and I saw the funny side in it too. Later on that evening as the stream of water bounced off my back I had a shower thought:
Nigeria is under state capture. Police checkpoints at every corner, bad infrastructure, lack of security and suppression of speech… this is occupied land. Like Israel has occupied Palestine… my goodness.
I rinsed it off and tipped the driver on the Uber app before calling it a night.
Uncle London in Lagos
It was my first full week in Lagos and I started to get my pidgin twang back. Hand movements, the lingo, the always in a hurriness. My Lagosian side slowly was emerging.
“No wahala”. “How far?” “I dey. How you dey?” “I beg”. It wasn’t only my mannerisms that changed, my diet had too. At this point I hadn’t eaten a single chip in days (and anyone that knows me knows that is all I eat).
The evenings activity of the day was a special event as part of my itinerary. Live music at a venue I had only heard stories about but never visited, the Fela Kuti Afrika shrine.
I had planned to go with Mo, a cool dude I met on the 6 hour plane journey to Lagos. Me being me I love to strike a conversation with anyone. Wielding my endless bucket of random facts and other niche topics it always gives me quick wins with people.
Speaking of random facts here’s one for you:
Did you know that Nigerias national budget is about the same as the Pet food industry market in the USA. Yep a whole country! After this article check it.
My friend and I had this conversation recently and he too didn’t believe but when I showed him he was surprised. For the event planned my attire of choice was an all white native, with my two strand twisted locs out. Special events call for special looks.
During my chats with locals I was shocked how many of them had never visited the Afika shrine. Mo arranged for his driver to pick us up. We arrived through a separate back gate and met a young lady who welcomed us.
The Shrine had this special awe to it. All around the building was art work and pictures of influential African leaders. There were people playing pool, selling snacks and people smoking marijuana. A decent amount of it too. Shortly after greeting a few people we were taken to the backstage to meet and greet the Kuti’s themselves.
I couldn’t believe it! Everyone was there. Femi Kuti, Madé Kuti, the band, dancers. I later found out that Mo is really good friends with them and has been for while. Small world right? Before everything commenced we chilled in an upstairs lounge and spoke about music, fashion and travels. I plugged in an AI conversation as a technology nerd.
Everything about the show was electric. The dancers moved their bodys hypnotizingly and the band was just… mwuah (chef kisses air). What I found most interesting was the sheer enjoyment and energy the music gave people. It was like a force. A people force. There was clapping, swaying of bodies left to right and fists were thrown in the air.
People really caught the spirit. If you weren’t a part of it you would think something was wrong with them but nope… they were simply in the moment. We spent the evening tapping feets and swaying side to side as the energy was high. Even I got up and did a little boogie on the dancefloor. The palm wine helped in all honesty.
Let’s get the party started!
Lagos nightlife was another area I had zero insight into as an adult. Didn’t know the spots, or what the vibe was like, or what the ladies were like, nothing. Pretty much had to start a fresh and be shown the ropes. Before my trip, one of my good friends Kio had connected me with his sister King who is from Portharcourt a small town in southern Nigeria. On my next trip to Nigeria I’ll put it on my list of places to check out. She was one of the MVP’s of my whole trip. She helped with what areas to stay, places to eat and any random questions I had.
Later that week, King invited me to a birthday party for one of her friends in the city. The plan was to meet at Cabin a spot in an area called Surulere for 10:00PM (lagos time). They arrived around 11-ish. I did say it was Lagos time right?
The location was this two floor grey building which looked quiet on the outside but when I entered I was mistaken. The music was pumping and the interior of Cabin was this reddish neon look. Kinda like something out of a Kanye West stronger video. The place was tight but not so tight that you couldn’t move, it was more like cozy. Yeah that’s the word, cozy. A quick scan and I found King and her friends partying away at a table. She quickly introduced me, mainly through sign language because the music was loud but they got the jist and reciprocated the welcome.
“Wetin you wan drink?” King asked. “I no mind o, anything wey you get” I replied.
“You go drink tequila?”
Normally, I would have passed on this offer but this wasn’t London me. This was Lagos me and Lagos me is here for full hen-joyment.
“Sure!”
Everything was on the table so I helped myself with the ingredients for a good night. Shots, salt and lime… I quickly realized there weren’t any limes. She pointed to some lemons in a bowl so I grabbed a slice. I’ve had tequila shots before so I was no stranger in the correct order to take them.
When in doubt, the order is lick sip and suck. These translate into the manners to consume items. First you lick the salt. Either from your hand or from somebody’s body part for what is known as a body shot. I’ve done a body shot before in Miami (a wild night) and that was my first and last time. Rule 101, if you ever end up at a bar on South beach partying with a group of Americans and someone asks have you had a body shot just… say… yes. At the time saying “nope” set me up for what seemed like the whole of the strip telling me to “do it do it”. I couldn’t say no.
Next step is to drink the shot and the final step is to grab a wedge of a lime and suck it to neutralise all the tastes. Then wallah! You are ready for a good night or a long night depending on how many of those you take. We ended up partying till the early hours of the morning but I tapped out around around 1:30-ish.
Island Vibes
Partying on the island was a whole other ball game. As mentioned in the first part of the article, the island truly had the nicer spots. Hospitality and comfort was at the forefront of all the establishments. Kaly was place which really stood out with its opulence. A rooftop bar with live music and bloody good shisha. One of my guys first showed me to the place and since then I kept going back for a warm up cocktail or two before any night activities.
They made one of the best whiskey sours I’ve had in my life. It cost about £5 which might have influenced my view on it. Then again it’s still a great price for the location and quality compared to UK standards. The average Nigerian wouldn’t dare spend that much on a drink.
Drinks in Nigeria are strong. I’m talking US strength strong if not more. There are two things Nigerians don’t cut back on. Sizes of food portions and the strength of their drinks. At Kaly I was joined by a mate I managed to stay in contact with during a solo trip to NYC a few years back. We had arranged to join Gunju and his group at a house event in Lekki. Gunju hooked me up with tickets and a table with his group so I got the full VIP experience.
Another cool thing I liked about Lagos was the fashion sense of people. They dressed with such style. It was so refreshing seeing so many vibrant colours, unique patterns and styles. Once we arrived at the music event it too hadn’t failed to showcase Lagos fashion. There were ladies wearing elegant ankara style dresses and skirts and men with cool native designs.
One thing I wasn’t a fan at all about Lagos nightlife was the decibel volume of the music played. It was as if there was no health and safety checks for what level are appropriate for the ears. Then again it’s Lagos so health and safety in itself are all but a facade for the most part. A Lagosian might say.
“If you have healthy money eh then forget, bro you are safe”
So poetic yet true to some extent. Towards the end of my trip my ears actually did start to pain me so I tended to opt for quieter restaurants and bars. On the island the party just doesn’t stop. It was close to 3:00AM at this point and they were like. “You ready for the next spot?”
Next spot?!
I was already envisioning a hot cup of peppermint tea, a game or two of online chess and munching my low sugar digestive biscuits I brought from Tesco. We drove down to another area about 15 minutes away which contained a whole strip of clubs and a strip club. Strip clubs were all over Lagos. At this point I had experienced power cuts in almost every scenario but never in my life in a club. I captured the moment.
(Heads up the video contains some profanity)
My legs started to fade just after 4-ish and I was like “guys I’m done”. Gunju laughed. I said my goodbyes and while waiting for my Uber outside a young man came up to me asking for money. I engaged in a quick conversation.
“How far? I no get much o. Even me self I dey struggle hustle”
“Struggle?” He responded. “Oga you dey enjoy.” “You be big boyy” He was at least 10 years older than me but still called me oga and a big boy.
“The opportunities wey una get I no get am. Nah for here I go sleep tonight”
I wanted to respond, No don’t say that! You have the same opportunities as me. Just believe in yourself, wake up early, work hard and pray to God. But I’ll be lying. If something radical doesn’t happen soon in Nigeria he might never even dream of wanting to live. I slowly dug into my back pocket and pulled out some cash. Wasn’t much about 1000 naira which is about 50p but for him that was enough to give a massive praise.
I’m sure it numbed the pain for him, but tomorrow night he knew and I knew I that we most likely will bump into each other again.
The shower thoughts spoke to me again not too long after:
Speaking to him and others makes it clear as day… there were hardly any Africans left in Africa. It’s almost all gone. The sense of identity and community lost, African spirituality banished, resources under state capture, dignity non-existent. There is almost nothing left. The neo-colonial powers aided by the petit bourgeois (as Frantz Fanon calls the African leaders) and their minions (influencers, media personnel, bankers etc) have successfully completed phase one of the process. The mental genocide of the African.