Of Clubs And Clubbing by @sir_castiq
I’ve always been a dancer. I like dancing. I’m good at it. As a result, I don’t get it when I go clubbing with friends and see all the fresh dudes with their starched shirts sitting at tables and pinging, all the while attended by waist winding oloshos. You have tables in your house. Why would you then leave there and go to a club just to sit? Are you lonely? If then, you need Jesus, not alcohol and loose morals.
I like to look around everywhere I go. This habit has led to me witness some really funny things. I can say this without reservation. There is no one more pained than a horny dude turned down by a chic.
Here I was sipping my rose jejely when I spot a pretty girl sitting just outside the VIP lounge. Here’s the thing, she was drunk. Not tipsy but fully uncoordinated drunk. The kind of drunk where trying to walk has you looking like an octopus on roller skates. Good. She was cute and on a normal day I would have been over there like Johnny Bravo but I don’t do drunk girls. Feels too much like rape to me. Anyways, out of the corner of my eyes, I spot two boys with much less scruples than myself. They see her, recognise her drunkenness and move in for the kill. The first one gets there, he starts to put the moves on her. She peers at him dimly, like a grandma missing her bifocals, and frowns. Apparently she’s drunk but not that drunk. In her defence the dude was kind’a ugly. And Black. That kind of black that has you checking your white shirt for stains if he bumps into you. Issorai.
Black Dude walks away swaggering to make it look to any onlookers like it was his choice to leave. I look away, deciding not to catch his eyes. No need to embarrass him further. Let it be our little secret.
The next dude slides into the boot like butter in a hot frying pan. I have to admit, the dude was smooth. He had her laughing and in two minutes they were on the floor dancing. Well maybe not dancing. Remember, she was very drunk. You know how you teach kids how to walk? Hold their hands and walk them around? They were dancing just like that. His hands all over her, kissing her neck, she’s pressed against him like like a BRT bus occupant, everything was going good. Next thing, he says something into her ear, she giggles and they walk off towards the bathroom. I nod, amused at the events and am about to look for something else to do when I hear loud shout from behind me “For Wetin !?!” Turns out Black Dude wasn’t too pleased at Smooth Dude’s success. He walks over and has a quick conversation with the manager. He converges in the bathrooms with two heft bouncers in tow. Loud knocking. “Oga, open this door”. No response. I move closer to see more of what is unfolding. The bouncers force open the door and drag out Smooth Dude looking much less smooth now with his trousers around his ankles. At this point I walk forward hoping to prevent the bouncers from giving him a beating. Apparently, Black Dude had told the bouncers Smooth Dude was raping the girl. I managed to persuade the bouncers not to beat him up but he is thrown bodily from the club and told never to set foot here again.
Something is wrong here. The dude has just been dragged out naked in public, called a rapist and thrown out of a major night club yet he doesn’t seem angry. He simply smiles, shakes his head and walks off. An hour later, I hear a gunshot. This being Benin, gunshots are quite usual occurrences and are no reason to be jumping around. Personally, I’ve been robbed at gunpoint so many times that recognizing the make and model of the gun pointed at me has become a hobby. Anyway, this gunshot was just outside the club and in short order, everyone was ordered out. A pickup truck with about 5 soldiers and would you guess it, Smooth Dude, leaning against it. Here’s the complete version of the story. Girl goes clubbing with her friends. Friends leave girl as they go home with their boyfriends. Girls orders a few drinks and dances as she waits for her boyfriend (Smooth Dude) to show up. He comes, they dance and leave for the bathroom to engage in some coital activities only to be interrupted mid-fun by Black Dude and his band of bouncers. Ehen what was I talking about before, Yes, Dancing.
I was chatting with a white friend of mine (now that internet is cheap, one can to have white friends. They can be very interesting too but that is a story for another day.) Anyway, I was trying to describe Nigerian dances to her and failed laughably. With my quirky mind, I began to search for the solution to this problem. On thinking about it, this is how I would describe most popular Nigerian dances:
Yahooze: Looks like someone with a 2 second memory span making god forbid hand movements.
Swe: Remember Edward scissor hands? Well Swe’s Edward scissor thighs.
Garrala – You remember alinco? how he’d take two steps back before taking one step foward? Make alinco a chimpanzee and you have garalla exactly.
Alanta: A chicken pox patient taking chloro-quine.
Azonto – Cerebral palsy patient learning karate.
Kokoma: The sideways motion looks like a Crab Michael Jackson
Skelewu: Bobble headed traffic warden.
I don’t think I’ll be learning any new dance moves though. From the face-spoiling embarrassment of Alanta, the intense cardio of Azonto, I think I’ll be fit far into my sixties from all the dancing I’ve done. It’s been a long time and I’ve missed you guys. Y’all should learn to holler at a nigger. @sir_castiq