PlayBoy says ‘ostentatious displays of wealth is the reason Lagos club scene is world-class’
Adam Skolnick, A Playboy Magazine reporter spent 10 days in Lagos, where he “sought out every party (he) could find” from Ikeja to Quilox in VI, from Sip Lounge to New Afrika Shrine.
He described the city, talked about its crime, poverty, the kind of music Nigerians like and more.
In Excerpt, he wrote:
“At two a.m. one of the biggest stars in the room, Burna Boy, stood in his booth, wearing a straw hat and a gold medallion over his white T-shirt. He took a long pull from the Hennessy bottle in his right hand and reached for the mike with his left. The hype man set the mood. All heads turned. DJ Obi, a Lagos mainstay, laid down a beat, and Burna Boy launched into his hit “Like to Party.”
Imagine hitting the clubs in Toronto or New York and seeing Drake or Jay Z grab the mike. That rarely happens, but in Lagos clubs, when artists turn up—which they often do—they almost always deliver. The promise of priceless impromptu performances and ostentatious displays of wealth are two reasons the Lagos club scene is world-class.”
“Lagos is certainly cinematic, but it isn’t pretty. A massive jigsaw of moldering concrete with almost no greenery, it is the largest city in Africa by population. Although it incorporates dozens of neighborhoods, the city breaks into roughly two sections: the Island and the mainland. The Island is set across a wide brackish lagoon from the mainland and connected with three separate bridges. Although just one landmass, it’s home to several neighborhoods, including Victoria Island, Lekki and Ikoyi, where the high-end nightlife and shopping happen, as well as some tough neighborhoods, including Lagos Island, home to the city’s largest market and its roughest red light district.
A posh wedding in Lekki filled with guests from the music and film industries and complete with “spraying”— throwing money in the air in the bride and groom’s direction.
While the Island features steel-and-glass skyscrapers, posh boutiques, ample space and wide, paved roads, mainland ghettos are jumbles of tin-roofed cinder-block walk-ups and spiderweb electric lines sagging over often unpaved roads running parallel to open sewers. Unemployment is rampant, health services are woeful and emergency services are nonexistent. If someone collapses from heart failure or a robbery is in progress, Lagosians have no reliable number to call. People die every day from treatable illnesses and kids learn early that life on the mainland is cheap, which is why most grow up dreaming of one day making it to the Island to claim a piece of the good life.”