Last night, I went to the club for the first time
and surprisingly I didn't feel nothing. I wasn't excited, wasn't
scared, wasn't looking forward to the experience. I felt normal, calm and I was
wondering what was wrong with me. My roommates cajoled me into going with them because
I was in my final year, final semester and I had never been to a club. As a
Unilag chic the hype attached to clubbing was overwhelming. Thursdays were
the official club days and once it was 9pm, the hostel would suddenly come alive
and most of the girls would keep running from room to room, borrowing makeup
kits, dresses, shoes, accessories and the likes. While all the strategic mirror
locations (the bathrooms inclusive) would be filled with plenty girls trying to
get a glimpse. Some would stand there for as long as two hours brushing their
hair, trying on different clothes, applying makeup, making calls to know where
their date was or as the case maybe the cabman that would convey them to the
various clubs. It was like a jungle, the hostel only quieted down in the early
hours of the morning and we the remaining occupants of the hostel knew peace.
I went to the club out of curiosity to see what
was so exciting and why girls went out of their way to be there. I kind of
club-trotted. The first club me and my roomies went to was Octopus at Yaba, the
noise was too much, the music was too loud, my ears were ringing, men were
ogling and semi-drunk, the atmosphere was filled with smoke, almost all the
girls were half naked, too much flesh was out and the disco light affected my
sight. I kept shutting my eyes because the darkness was better than the neon
signs I exposed my eyes to. I sat down, looked at everyone and wondered how
they had fun in that setting. Then our next stop was McKays (I don’t know how
it’s spelt) on the island. Once I entered my ears started ringing again, the
smoke was unbearable and there were so many people; boys, girls, men, women,
guys, chicks, bruvs, babes…Everybody was looking good, classy, sassy and sexy.
Luckily for me my roomies got seats in the VIP lounge and got drinks even
though I don’t drink. Then my favorite songs started rolling in and I couldn’t
dance properly because I was wearing this sexy gown that felt like a tutu, my
killer heels were there to hinder me and there was no space to move even in the
so-called VIP lounge. I sat down, surveyed my environment and for a fleeting
instant the club house looked demonic like a sexual orgy was going on. It just
didn’t look right for that fleeting moment. From where I sat in the VIP’s
lounge I could see the regular lounge and I could see girls from my school
standing and looking very uncomfortable.
They didn’t have anyone to buy them drinks, no
one to dance with and no place to sit. Then I wondered; why do they hype clubbing
in school? Why do girls leave their comfort zones because they want to be in a
club? To meet rich dudes? Feel sexy and attractive? Dance? Because in my third
year I had a roommate whose sister went to the club with her so-called friends
and got left at the club. The poor girl didn’t have money to take a cab back to
school and had to take a public transport back to school. She had to pass
through Yaba in her ridiculous clubbing outfit and we all know what Yaba boys
can do to the morale of a girl who is fully clothed not to mention one that is
half naked. She came into my room then crying and I kept asking why she went
there even when she knew she didn’t have funds. Turns out it was peer pressure.
I think clubbing is more of peer pressure than having fun. I looked around once
more and came to the conclusion that there was exciting about going to the club
and I wished I was either wearing jeans and digging it out on the dance floor
or I was in my precious bed lounging with my PC. It’s funny how when it’s night
and you aren’t within your bed environment you tend to value your bed more.
When it was around 4am, we were ready to go back to school. On our way out we
met some drunk guys in the elevator, one claiming Lebanese even though he was
obviously a Nigerian and the other obviously not a Nigerian and they kept on
blabbing. We got out of the elevator and even though they were too drunk to
function they were still conscious enough to ask us to follow them to Ikoyi to
spend the remainder of the morning. It was all so funny, boring, dry, stupid
and revolting at the same time. I was so disgusted and bored out of my mind.
When we eventually got to school, the gateman wanted us to tip him before he
opened the gate and we weren’t ready because we didn’t flout any school rule
and he didn’t have a reason to hold us off. This took like another 30 minutes
and when I finally got to my room I just cleared my loving bed and slept off
while bearing in mind that I wouldn’t like to go clubbing again and I might if
the circumstances change.
